hoonieangel

[hoonieangel]

peak cinema 

mall rat

pairing: yandere entity!sunghoon x reader

genre: backrooms/liminal space au, predator-prey dynamic, thriller

synopsis: you enter an abandoned mall looking for a thrill, but the deeper you explore, the more the walls start to twist and the exits begin to vanish. when you hear footsteps following close behind, you meet sunghoon—a boy who seems to know this place too well and who enjoys chasing you a little too much. the longer you run, the more you wonder if you’re escaping him… or being led exactly where he wants you.

warnings (MDNI 18+ only!!) : smut(mirror sex, oral sex (f. receiving), face-fucking / oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected rough sex, degradation, dirty talk, chase kink, choking, hair pulling, manhandling, size kink, overstimulation, everything is consensual), yandere themes, obsessive behavior, intense chase sequences, predator-prey dynamic, backrooms/liminal space horror, cursing, mean!evil!sunghoon, manipulation, stalking, supernatural(?) filming without consent, reader's hair is of length that can be braided and pulled, pls lmk if there's anything i skipped!

note: this is more of a liminal space au and a liiiitle darker than the jw one. it has more smut too oops(i think i got better?). i hope you like reading this, i can't wait to hear your thoughts about it! enjoyyy

word count: 10.2k

backrooms au collection

if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3

you pressed your hand against the cool glass doors of the abandoned mall, your breath fogging the grimy surface for just a second before disappearing. 

"well, this is either going to be amazing or the worst decision i've made this month," you muttered to yourself, the sound of your own voice strangely comforting in the empty parking lot. 

you gave the doors a push, wincing as the rusted hinges screamed in protest. "okay, okay, i'm coming in. no need to announce me."

the smell hit you immediately—that distinctive abandoned building smell of mildew, dust, and something faintly metallic. you pulled your shirt collar up over your nose. 

"ugh, smells like a grandma's basement crossed with a hardware store," you coughed, waving a hand in front of your face as you stepped further inside.

your flashlight beam cut through the darkness, revealing the frozen-in-time horror of the abandoned mall. this was your thing—haunted places, urban legends, liminal spaces. you chased them for fun. your camera was clipped to your bag, already recording, the thrill crawling under your skin like electricity.

"damn," you breathed, taking in the collapsed storefronts and creepy, dust-covered mannequins. one particularly unsettling female mannequin had toppled face-first onto a broken jewelry counter. 

as you moved deeper, the air grew thicker. you wiped sweat from your brow despite the chill. "why is it so damn humid in here?" you grumbled, pausing to shake out your damp shirt. 

that's when you noticed the escalator—the broken, rusted escalator was moving. your blood ran cold. 

"no. no way. that's not..." the metal steps groaned as they jerked upward. "okay, new plan. we're leaving now."

you fumbled for your phone, hands shaking so badly you nearly dropped it. the screen glitched violently before freezing on a distorted image of your own terrified face. 

"what the hell? what the actual hell?" you whispered, slapping the device against your palm like that might fix it. when you looked up, the hallway had changed. the entrance was gone. 

"no, no, no. this isn't funny anymore."

you started walking faster, then running, your sneakers slapping against the cracked tiles. 

"left here... then right... then..." you skidded to a stop in front of the same dented soda can you'd passed three times now. "this isn't possible," you panted, kicking the can in frustration. it clattered against the wall with a hollow metallic ping that echoed far too long.

that's when you heard them—footsteps that weren't yours. you froze, your breath coming in short, panicked bursts.

"hello?" you called out, immediately regretting it. the footsteps paused, then changed direction, coming toward you. "okay, okay, not hello then," you whispered, backing away slowly. "just... just passing through. don't mind me."

but the footsteps kept coming, maintaining that same steady, unhurried pace. you turned and ran, your heart hammering against your ribs. 

"there has to be a way out, there has to be..." you chanted under your breath as you took turn after turn, each corridor stretching longer than the last. 

the footsteps behind you never sped up, never slowed down—just kept coming, always the same distance behind you no matter how fast you ran.

your body locked in place, muscles coiled tight like springs about to snap. the air seemed to vibrate with a supernatural, suppressing hum, crawling under your skin until you could feel it in your teeth. when you tried to speak, your tongue felt thick and useless in your mouth. 

"w-who's there?" you finally managed, the words barely louder than a whisper. your voice sounded alien to your own ears—thin and frayed at the edges.

the footsteps came again, slow and deliberate, each one measured to land just as your heartbeat stuttered. you spun around so fast your vision blurred at the edges, flashlight beam slicing through the darkness like a knife. empty space stared back at you. 

"stop it," you demanded, hating how your voice cracked. "this isn't funny!"

silence answered you. then suddenly, a soft exhale that wasn't your own, came from somewhere just behind your left shoulder. you whirled again, nearly losing your balance as your sneakers squeaked against the tiles. still nothing. your breath came in ragged gasps now, each inhale tasting like dust and something metallic. the back of your neck prickled with the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

you broke into a run before you could think better of it, legs pumping wildly as you careened around corners. your lungs burned, your throat raw, but you couldn't stop, wouldn't stop. that's when you noticed it: the sound of your own panicked breathing was being perfectly mimicked just half a second behind you. your stomach dropped. 

"no no no," you chanted under your breath, skidding around another corner only to find yourself face-to-face with—

"finally."

the voice came from everywhere and nowhere all at once. you staggered back, flashlight beam jerking upward to illuminate the figure leaning against a crumbling storefront. a boy—no, a young man—stood bathed in the flickering glow of a broken neon sign, his head tilted in quiet amusement. he was beautiful in a way that made your skin crawl, too perfect, too untouched by the decay surrounding him.

"you took your time getting here," he said, pushing off from the wall with unnatural grace. his voice was smooth, almost melodic, but it set you on edge. "i was starting to think you'd never arrive."

your mouth worked soundlessly for a moment before you forced out, "who are you? what is this place?" 

the questions tumbled out in a rush, your voice gaining strength even as your hands shook. "why can't i get out?"

he didn't answer right away, instead taking a slow step forward. you noticed with dawning horror that his footsteps made no sound—no crunch of glass, no echo in the empty space. it was like watching a ghost move. 

"names are so... limiting," he mused, circling you with predatory grace. "but you can call me sunghoon. as for this place?" he gestured lazily to the decaying mall around you. "let's call it my playground."

your breath hitched. "let me out," you demanded, taking a step back for every one he took forward. "i didn't mean to come here. i just—"

"you just couldn't resist poking where you didn't belong," he finished for you, lips quirking into something that wasn't quite a smile. "curious little thing, aren't you? that's what brought you here. that's what keeps you here."

a cold sweat broke out across your back. "what do you mean 'keeps me here'?"

sunghoon's eyes gleamed in the dim light as he took another soundless step closer. "you've noticed by now, haven't you? how the halls change when you're not looking? how the doors disappear?" he tilted his head, studying your reaction with unsettling intensity. "this place... it likes you. and so do i."

your stomach twisted uncomfortably. "let me go," you repeated, voice trembling. "please."

for a moment, something like genuine surprise flickered across his face before being replaced by that same eerie calm. 

"oh sweet thing," he murmured, almost pitying. "you still don't understand. you can't leave. not unless i let you." he took another step forward, now close enough that you could see the unnatural way the light refracted in his eyes. "but where's the fun in that?"

your body moved before your mind could catch up—spinning on your heel and sprinting down the nearest corridor. behind you, sunghoon's laughter followed, rich and warm and utterly terrifying. 

"run all you want!" he called after you, voice carrying unnaturally through the empty space. "you'll only end up back with me!"

your vision blurred with unshed tears as you ran, sneakers pounding against tile after tile. the mall stretched and warped around you, corridors twisting in impossible ways, but you didn't stop. couldn't stop. not when you could still feel his gaze burning into your back, not when his voice seemed to whisper from the very walls themselves.

"that's it," the mall itself seemed to croon as you turned another corner only to find yourself facing a dead end. "run. struggle. it only makes the game more fun."

your lungs burned as you tore through corridors that curved at impossible angles, the walls warping like melted wax as you passed. the floors beneath you changed without warning—one moment your boots slammed against cracked linoleum, the next you were sprinting across pristine marble that looked freshly polished, your own terrified reflection staring back at you from its glossy surface. your flashlight beam jerked wildly as you swung it from side to side, the light catching on vines that slithered through broken ceiling tiles like snakes, their leaves rustling despite the stale, motionless air.

"this isn't possible," you gasped, skidding to a halt as you reached a fork in the hallway that hadn't been there seconds ago. 

your pulse roared in your ears as you frantically tried to decide—left or right, left or right—before choosing at random and plunging down the left passage. the walls here were lined with storefronts from different eras, some sporting 80s neon signs still glowing brightly, others with boarded-up windows covered in decade-old missing person posters. your breath hitched when you recognised your own face staring back from one of the yellowed flyers, the dates smudged beyond recognition.

you ducked through a broken security gate into what might have once been a children's play area, the colourful foam flooring squishing unnaturally underfoot like living flesh. the scent of artificial strawberries and disinfectant assaulted your nose, so strong it made your eyes water as you crawled beneath a frozen turnstile, the metal bars ice-cold against your palms. 

when you scrambled to your feet and looked back, your stomach dropped—the hallway you'd just come through was gone, replaced by smooth, unbroken drywall still smelling of fresh paint.

"i like watching you panic."

the voice came from directly behind you, closer than anyone should have been able to get without you hearing. 

you whirled around so fast you nearly fell, your back hitting the wall as your flashlight illuminated sunghoon leaning casually against a carousel pole, one arm draped over a frozen plastic horse with eerily lifelike glass eyes. he looked different under the stark white light—his features sharper, his smile showing just a hint too many teeth. 

"makes you look real," he murmured, tilting his head as he studied the way your chest heaved with panicked breaths.

your fingers dug into the wall behind you, searching for purchase against the suddenly slick surface. 

"what are you?" you demanded, hating how your voice shook. "why are you doing this?"

sunghoon pushed off from the carousel with that unnatural grace, taking a slow step forward. the children's ride creaked to life behind him, the eerie sound of carnival music starting up as the horses began bobbing in jerky circles. 

"you came looking for excitement, didn't you?" he said, his voice almost gentle. "for something beyond your boring little world." another step closer, his shadow stretching long and wrong across the floor. "well, here i am."

your muscles tensed, every instinct screaming to run even as some deeper, more primal part of you recognised the danger of showing fear to a predator. but when his eyes flickered black for just an instant—just long enough for you to question whether you'd really seen it—you broke, spinning away and sprinting for the nearest exit sign.

his laughter followed you, rich and warm and utterly wrong in this twisted place. "run, run away," he called after you, the words curling around you like smoke. "it's so much more fun when you run."

and you did run—because you were starting to understand the unspoken rules of this nightmare. running kept you in the game. running meant you were still playing instead of being played. but most of all, you ran because some small, terrified part of you knew that if you ever stopped—if you ever let him catch you—you might never leave this place at all.

the corridors blurred together as you fled, your vision tunnelling with adrenaline. you barely registered the way the walls pulsed faintly, or how the exit signs always seemed to lead you in circles. all that mattered was the burning in your legs and the single thought repeating in your head like a mantra: don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.

because stopping meant facing what was following you. and that was something you weren't ready to do.

the concept of days blurred like wet ink on your makeshift calendar, the marks you'd scratched into a dressing room wall with a bobby pin becoming meaningless after the seventh "day." 

your hands shook less now when mapping the mall's shifting corridors, having learnt which walls would stay solid and which might disappear if you blinked too long. the lingerie store's plush pink fitting room had become your primary shelter, its locking mechanism still functional if you jammed a hair tie in just right. you'd lined the floor with stolen silk robes and bras as makeshift bedding, their lace edges tickling your wrists when you turned in your restless sleep.

"northwest corridor floods at 3:17 pm," you muttered, adding the note to your growing collection of observations. the mall kept its own time—you'd watched the water rise like clockwork through the broken tiles near the food court every "afternoon," though the clocks all remained stubbornly stuck at 4:37. "elevator music plays for exactly six minutes before the—"

a sudden burst of the same static like buzzing filled the air. your body reacted before your mind could process—muscles locking, breath hitching. he was near. the air thickened with the weirdly tempting combination of vanilla and matchsticks, that hadn't been there moments before. you pressed your back against the fitting room wall, clutching your notes to your chest as if the fragile paper could protect you.

"mapping my home?" his voice oozed through the thin partition, rich with amusement. "how... domestic of you." a single finger tapped against the other side of the door in a mockery of knocking. "may i see?"

your throat closed. the hair on your arms stood straight up as the temperature dropped sharply. "no," you managed after a too-long pause, immediately cringing at how small your voice sounded.

sunghoon's mean laughter wrapped around you like smoke. "still defiant. i adore that about you." the fitting room's lights flickered in time with his words. "but you're missing the best parts—the service tunnels behind the east wing, the hidden staircase in the old toy store." he paused, then almost conspiratorially whispered: "i could show you."

"i'd rather starve," you snapped, immediately regretting it when the entire row of fitting rooms rattled like something enormous had brushed against them.

"now why would you say that," he chided, voice suddenly coming from directly above you. you jerked your head up to see his face partially phased through the ceiling tiles, upside down and smiling. "when i've been so generous with my hospitality?"

you screamed without meaning to, scrambling backward into the corner as he dissolved through the ceiling like ink in water, reforming upright before you. he looked different today—his usually pristine white shirt was slightly rumpled, the first button undone to reveal a sliver of collarbone that looked almost too sharp and human, but not quite.

"you—you're not real," you stammered, fingers digging into the silk robes beneath you. "this place is messing with my head."

sunghoon tilted his head, the motion eerily smooth. "oh darling," he sighed, crouching to your level with unnatural grace. "i'm the most real thing here." 

his hand hovered near your cheek without touching, close enough that you felt the unnatural chill radiating from his skin. "don't you want to know why you're special? why the mall chose you?"

your breath came in shallow pants as you pressed harder against the wall. "i didn't choose this."

"but you did." his smile widened just slightly too far. "all those late nights researching liminal spaces, chasing that delicious thrill of almost-danger." he leaned in, his breath oddly scentless against your ear. "you whispered your invitation every time you clicked on another article, every time you snuck into places you didn't belong."

a sudden crash from elsewhere in the mall made you both turn. sunghoon's expression darkened momentarily before smoothing back into pleasant calm. "speaking of invitations," he murmured, standing abruptly. "i have to attend to something. but we'll continue this... later."

he was gone between one blink and the next, leaving only the lingering scent of ozone and a single red string tied around your pinky finger that hadn't been there before. you stared at it, nausea rising when you realised it matched exactly the shade of the lingerie store's signature colour.

the gifts from him became more frequent after that encounter. you'd wake to find your stolen vending machine snacks replaced with gourmet meals still steaming on fine china. your worn out sneakers disappeared one night, replaced by pristine red shoes that fit perfectly. worst of all were the notes—appearing in your own handwriting on mirrors after you'd looked away:

"you smiled in your sleep today.""i love how your voice cracks when you're scared.""say my name again. i liked how it sounded in your mouth."

one "evening" as you huddled in the makeup aisle, exhaustion finally dragging you under, you dreamt of him properly for the first time. not as the predator, but as something almost human—sitting cross-legged beside you, gently braiding your hair while humming a lullaby you vaguely remembered from childhood.

"why won't you let me leave?" you asked in the dream, surprised by how calm your voice sounded.

sunghoon's fingers stilled in your hair. "because you belong here," he murmured, lips brushing your temple. "with me." his hands slid down to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing under your eyes. 

you woke with a start to find your hair actually braided, a silky red ribbon woven through it. the security mirror above showed sunghoon's reflection sitting behind you, his chin resting on your shoulder. when you turned, there was nothing there—but the ribbon remained, smelling faintly of his vanilla and matchsticks scent.

"stop fighting it," the latest mirror message read that morning, the words appearing letter by letter as you watched, like invisible fingers tracing them. "you're mine already."

your reflection in the glass looked different—darker eyes, sharper cheekbones, lips slightly redder than they should be. when you reached up to touch your face, your reflection smiled a second too late.

you woke with a start, your body arching off the makeshift bed as the last waves of pleasure still crackled through your nerves like live wires. the dream—god, the dream—had been so vivid you could still feel the phantom press of sunghoon's lips against your inner thigh, the teasing scrape of his teeth against your neck. your hand flew to your neck instinctively, half-expecting to find marks, but your skin was unbroken. unlike your underwear, which was soaked through with undeniable evidence of your arousal.

"fuck," you hissed into the empty fitting room, pressing your thighs together as another aftershock trembled through you. 

the lingerie store's pink lighting suddenly felt too intimate, the silk robes you'd repurposed as bedding clinging to your sweat-slicked skin like a lover's caress. you scrambled to your feet, nearly tripping over tangled fabric in your haste to escape the suffocating space. "this isn't happening. this isn't—"

the mall greeted you with unnatural stillness, the usual flickering lights frozen in a perfect, eerie glow. even the ever-present hum of that weird buzz had gone silent, leaving a vacuum of sound that made your pulse roar in your ears. you didn't bother dressing properly—just yanked on a discarded denim jacket over your sleep shirt and stormed into the main corridor, bare feet slapping against cold tile.

"sunghoon!" your voice shattered the silence, bouncing off the concave walls of the empty mall. "get out here and explain what the hell you just did to me!"

for a long moment nothing happened and you felt a little dumb for deciding to approach him because weren’t you supposed to be hiding from him?

just then a soft, familiar chuckle came from directly behind you, so close you felt his breath stir the hair at your nape. "i didn't hear any complaints in the dream," his voice purred, laced with smug amusement. "quite the opposite, actually."

you whirled around so fast you nearly lost your balance, coming face-to-face with the living embodiment of your shame. sunghoon looked unfairly put together, leaning against a shuttered kiosk with his arms crossed over his chest. his usual white shirt was unbuttoned one more than necessary, revealing a tantalising sliver of pale collarbone that your traitorous eyes immediately tracked. when your gaze snapped back up to his face, he was smirking.

"stop that," you snapped, gesturing wildly at his general existence. "stop—whatever mind control shit you're doing. i didn't ask for this."

his dark eyes gleamed under the artificial lighting as he pushed off the kiosk, taking slow, measured steps toward you. 

"mind control?" he repeated, tilting his head like a curious predator. "is that what you think this is?" another step closer, his polished shoes clicking against the tile in a rhythm that matched your accelerating heartbeat. "or are you just upset because you liked it too much?"

your face burned. "i didn't—that wasn't—" the words died in your throat as he closed the final distance between you, his scent wrapping around you.

sunghoon's smile widened as he reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with deceptive gentleness. "you're a terrible liar," he murmured, fingers lingering just a second too long against your heated skin. "i felt every shudder, every gasp." his voice dropped to a whisper. "heard my name on your lips when you—"

"shut up!" you slapped his hand away, your chest heaving. "what are you? some kind of sex demon? ghost? fucking—incubus?" the words tumbled out in an angry rush, your voice cracking on the last syllable.

for a brief moment, something dark flickered behind his eyes—something hungry that made your survival instincts scream. then it was gone, replaced by that same infuriating amusement. 

"so many questions," he mused, circling you with predatory grace. "but you don't get to ask the questions here." his hand shot out unexpectedly, catching your wrist in an ice-cold grip. "this place belongs to me." his thumb pressed against your fluttering pulse point. "and now... so do you."

you yanked your arm free with a startled gasp, stumbling backward. "like hell i do," you spat, but your voice lacked conviction, still breathless from the dream, from his proximity, from the way your body reacted to him despite your terror.

sunghoon's laugh was low and knowing as he watched you back away. "run if you want," he said, spreading his arms in mock invitation. "we both know how this ends."

and once again you started running away from him, this time against your will. it felt like some force was controlling the pumping of your legs, bare feet slapping against suddenly glossy tiles as you sprinted down the nearest corridor. the mall seemed to shift around you, walls stretching unnaturally as you skidded around corners, your breath coming in sharp, panicked gasps. you didn't stop until you crashed through the swinging doors of an abandoned department store, the air thick with the scent of mothballs and decaying fabric.

the mannequins here were arranged in a creepy arrangement, their plastic faces all turned toward the entrance as if they'd been waiting for you. your stomach lurched as you ducked between racks of yellowed wedding dresses, their lace catching on your arms like grasping fingers. the silence was absolute except for your own ragged breathing—until a soft creak echoed from near the fitting rooms, followed by the unmistakable sound of a zipper being slowly pulled down.

"come out, come out," sunghoon's voice crooned from the darkness, dripping with false sweetness. you pressed a hand over your mouth to stifle a whimper as his voice dropped to that sinful register from your dream. "i'll make you feel good." he paused, then lowered his voice: "just like i did in the dream."

your thighs pressed together instinctively at the memory, drawing another frustrated groan from your lips as you lunged for the mirror-lined changing room, slamming the flimsy door behind you. the small space was a hall of mirrors, your own panicked reflection repeating endlessly in every direction—pupils blown wide, chest heaving, lips parted around shaky breaths. 

then sudden movement caught your eye in one of the far mirrors. his reflection stood behind yours, hands resting possessively on your shoulders, chin propped on your head like you were some cherished doll.

"n-no," you stammered, backpedalling until your shoulder blades hit the opposite mirror with a rattling thud. "this isn't real. you're not—"

"real?" sunghoon finished, stepping out of the mirror behind you as easily as walking through an open door. his hands came down on either side of your head, caging you in without actually touching. "oh sweetheart," he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. "i think we're past that, don't you?"

your breath came in short, sharp gasps as he leaned in closer, his body heat—or lack thereof—seeping through your thin sleep clothes. "running again?" he teased, tilting his head to study your flushed face. "you're cute when you think you have options."

before you could respond, tell him you were being controlled when you ran this time(probably by him since he seemed to enjoy the chase), one hand slid down to cradle your chin, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip with terrifying gentleness. his other knee slotted between yours, spreading your legs with effortless pressure that made your traitorous body arch toward him instinctively. 

the memory of the dream—his mouth between your thighs, those long fingers working you open—flashed through your mind with embarrassing clarity.

"go on," he whispered, lips hovering just above yours. "scream. see if anyone hears you."

but no sound came out, your throat closing around a choked whimper instead. sunghoon's smile turned victorious as he took in your trembling form, your pupils blown wide with conflicting emotions. 

"look at you," he murmured, his free hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hiking it up around his hip with casual dominance. "all flushed and wide-eyed." his thumb pressed against your pulse point, feeling the rabbit-quick beat there. 

your body remembered the pleasure he'd given you in the dream, remembered how good it felt to surrender to those clever hands and that mocking mouth. as if reading your thoughts, sunghoon leaned in closer, his lips grazing the sensitive spot beneath your ear. 

"i could make it real," he promised, voice dropping to that low, sinful register that made your stomach clench. "just say the word."

his hand slid higher up your thigh, fingertips brushing the damp fabric of your underwear, and you realised with horrifying clarity that you were considering it. considering letting this beautiful monster have you right here in this cursed changing room, surrounded by endless reflections of his hungry gaze. the thought should have terrified you. it did terrify you.

so why were you leaning into his touch? why did your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the crisp fabric of his shirt? why did your body feel like it was burning up from the inside out?

“i-fuck—i want it.”

your breath hitched violently when his fingers slipped beneath your waistband with terrifying familiarity, the cool metal of his rings pressing against your overheated skin. 

his fingers traced the crease of your thigh first, maddeningly slow, the calloused pads dragging up so deliberately you could feel every ridge of his fingerprints against your oversensitive skin. you bit down on your lip hard enough to taste copper, but the whimper slipped out anyway, high and pathetic in the quiet of the changing room.

"fuck," sunghoon muttered, smirking against your ear as his breath fanned cool across your flushed skin. his fingers dipped lower through your slick with a soft, obscene sound that made your stomach clench with shame. "so wet already." 

his voice was low, amused, as he brought his glistening fingers up between you, turning them in the flickering light. "did you start dripping the second you saw me? or were you already this worked up from your little dream?"

you squeezed your eyes shut, humiliation burning through you hotter than any pleasure. "i didn't—"

"liar," he whispered, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the hinge of your jaw that made your knees weaken. his fingers returned to circle your clit with torturous precision, the pressure just shy of enough as he watched your face intently. 

"i felt it. the second you woke up—all hot and bothered, thighs squeezing together like you could hide how much you wanted me." his teeth scraped your earlobe, the sharp sting making you gasp. "admit it."

your thighs tensed instinctively, trying to close, but his knee stayed firm between them, keeping you spread open and vulnerable to his exploring fingers. "n-no," you stammered, hands scrabbling against the mirror behind you for purchase. "you—you put those thoughts in my head. you made me—"

sunghoon laughed, a dark, velvety sound that vibrated through your chest where he pressed against you. 

"oh, sweet thing," he murmured, lips trailing down your neck as his fingers finally, finally pushed inside, curling just right to make your back arch off the mirror. "i didn't put anything in your head that wasn't already there." 

he pumped his fingers slowly, watching with rapt attention as your mouth fell open on a silent moan. "you've thought about this, haven't you? all these days in the dark, when you thought no one was watching?"

your head fell back against the mirror with a dull thud as he added a third finger, the stretch burning deliciously. the reflections around you showed a dozen versions of yourself—cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure you didn't want to feel. 

"look at you," sunghoon murmured, his free hand gripping your chin to force your gaze to the mirrors. "see how pretty you are like this? see how your body begs for me?"

his fingers sped up, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit in a steady, relentless rhythm that had your hips jerking without permission. your moans slipped free—quiet at first, then louder and more broken when his thumb pressed harder, circling just right. "f-fuck—"

"there it is," he breathed, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you gasped.

 his free hand slid up to wrap around your throat, not squeezing, just holding, his thumb tipping your chin up to watch yourself in the mirrors. "come on, baby. let me see you fall apart."

you shook your head weakly, but your body betrayed you, hips rolling, back arching as the tension coiled tighter and tighter, "i don't—i can't—"

"you can," he growled, fingers thrusting harder, curling just so. "and you will." his lips found your ear again, voice dropping to that sinful whisper that made your stomach flip. 

"come on my fingers like a good girl. show me how well you can listen."

the command, coupled with the filthy sound of his fingers moving in you, tipped you over the edge. pleasure ripped through you like a live wire, your cunt clenching around his fingers as you sobbed his name into the humid air. he didn't let up, fucking you through it with ruthless precision, his lips ghosting your ear as you trembled and shook.

"told you," he whispered, voice thick with satisfaction as he finally slowed his movements, letting you ride out the aftershocks. his fingers slid out with a wet sound, bringing them to his lips to lick clean with deliberate slowness. "fuck, you taste even better than in the dreams."

you were still panting, oversensitive and dazed, when he laughed—soft and mean—and sank to his knees between your legs. the sight of him there sent a fresh wave of heat through you. 

"cute," he murmured, before biting the inside of your thigh hard enough to make you yelp. the sharp pain melted into pleasure almost instantly, your traitorous body arching toward his mouth.

then his tongue was on you, licking a broad stripe through your folds with terrifying precision. it was just like the dream—his mouth hot and demanding, tongue sliding over your slit like he'd studied you, memorised the shape of your body in every twisted corner of this place. he started slow, languid licks that made you whine, your hips jerking forward on instinct—

he growled, low and guttural, hands digging into the backs of your thighs to lock you in place. "stay fucking still," he muttered into your pussy, voice raw with annoyance. "or i'll stop, and we both know you don't want that."

the threat shouldn't have worked. it shouldn't have made your stomach flip with something dangerously close to want. but you froze, hands fisting in your own hair as he dove back in, eating you like a starved thing—messy and loud and ravenous. his tongue curled inside you, lips sucking your clit until it throbbed, until tears stung your lashes from how good it felt, until you were gasping out broken little apologies you didn't even understand.

"please—" you choked out, unsure if you were begging him to stop or never stop, your thighs trembling with the effort to stay still.

he ignored you, his grip tightening as he licked a stripe up your soaked centre. "you say that like you have a choice," he murmured against your skin, the vibration making you jerk. "like you're not already mine in every way that matters." his teeth grazed your clit, the sharp edge of pleasure-pain making you cry out. 

when he finally pulled away—lips shiny and chin dripping with you—he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grinned up at you like he'd just won some grand prize. 

"that's more like it," he whispered, stroking a finger through your folds one more time just to watch you twitch. "told you." his thumb pressed against your swollen clit, making you whimper as he rose to his full height, crowding you back against the mirrors. 

"you were made to fall for me. every part of you."

as he stepped back into the mirror, literally melting into the glass like it was water, his final words followed you into the heavy silence.

“sweet dreams, darling.”

and you knew, with sinking dread, that they would be. he would see to that.

you woke up sprawled on the cold tile floor of an unfamiliar department, your body aching in ways that made heat crawl up your neck. your thighs stuck together uncomfortably, the fabric of your shorts damp in a way that had nothing to do with sweat. your throat felt raw, like you'd been screaming, but the last clear memory you had was sunghoon's fingers digging into your hips, his mouth—

"fuck," you hissed, slamming a fist against the floor hard enough to send a jolt of pain up your arm. 

the sharp sting grounded you momentarily before the memories came flooding back—his hands everywhere, his voice whispering filth in your ear, the way your body had arched against him despite your screaming mind. you dragged your nails down your own arms, leaving angry red trails in their wake. "stop it. stop thinking about it."

but your skin still burned where he'd touched you, your pulse still throbbed between your legs in a traitorous rhythm. 

you ripped a strip of fabric from your already tattered shirt with shaking hands, tying your tangled hair back with jerky movements. the scrap smelled faintly of his scent, that same scent that seemed to cling to every surface in this godforsaken mall. you threw it away violently, only to watch in horror as the fabric slithered back into your pocket like a living thing.

"i hate you," you whispered to the empty air, unsure if you were talking to sunghoon or yourself.

you walked with purpose this time, dragging your house keys along the walls to carve deep grooves in the paint. one scratch for every step, counting under your breath like a prisoner marking days. 

"one hundred twenty-seven. one hundred twenty-eight." the numbers kept you sane, gave you something to focus on besides the way your body still hummed with residual pleasure. "one hundred twenty—"

the scratches disappeared before your eyes, the wall healing itself like fresh skin over a wound. you screamed then, a raw, guttural sound that echoed through the empty corridors. 

"stop fucking with me!" your voice cracked on the last word, bouncing back to you in mocking repetition.

hours passed without any sign of sunghoon, and the silence grew teeth. it pressed against your eardrums until you found yourself humming just to fill the void, jumping at every creak of settling infrastructure. part of you—a traitorous, weak part—missed the sound of his voice, the way it curled around your name like a physical touch. 

you shook your head violently, as if you could dislodge the thought. "shut up," you hissed to yourself, digging your nails into your palms. "just shut the fuck up."

that's when you found the theatre. it materialised at the end of a hallway that definitely hadn't been there yesterday, its ornate double doors gleaming under the emergency exit lights. the sign above read "starlight cinema" in peeling gold letters, though you'd never seen this place during your days of mapping the mall. 

when you stepped closer, the doors swung inward with a whisper of movement, revealing a cavernous space of red velvet seats and a screen that took up the entire far wall.

your feet moved against your will, carrying you forward like a sleepwalker. the moment you crossed the threshold, the doors slammed shut behind you with a finality that made your stomach drop.

inside, the theatre was pristine—crimson velvet seats untouched by dust, the screen glowing faintly in the darkness. it smelled like fake butter and childhood nostalgia, the scent so incongruously normal it made your chest ache. 

you sank into a plush seat without meaning to, your exhausted body folding into the comfort despite every warning bell ringing in your skull.

the screen flickered to life with a soft whir, showing shaky home footage of your bedroom. you watched, transfixed, as you saw yourself working on your studydesk, the scene not older than a year or two. the angle was skewed like someone was watching from the shower. 

"stop," you whispered, fingers digging into the armrests.

you in your bedroom last year, dancing to a song only you could hear as you got ready for something. you crying in a car, your face illuminated by passing streetlights. you sleeping peacefully, the camera lingering on the rise and fall of your chest. hundreds of clips, some from moments you remembered vividly, others from mundane instants you'd never think to recall. and then—

you at your birthday party, blowing out candles for an age that you hadn’t turned yet. you old and grey, rocking slowly on a porch swing that didn't exist.

your blood turned to ice in your veins. "no," you whispered, fingers digging into the velvet armrests. "what the— this isn't—"

"i recorded all your best parts.

the seat beside you creaked as weight settled into it. you didn't need to look to know who was there. the scent of vanilla and matchsticks enveloped you first and then that oppressive buzz filled the air. then his fingers were prying your hands away from your face, his grip deceptively gentle.

"you see now, don't you?" sunghoon murmured, his breath warm against your ear. on screen, the footage showed you kissing him passionately, your hands fisted in his hair like you never wanted to let go. “i want to show you how pretty you look.”

"shhh," he soothed, pressing a finger to your lips just as you were about to scream at him. on screen, the footage changed to show last night—your head thrown back in pleasure, his mouth between your thighs. 

"does it matter? you liked it. you came so hard you cried." his thumb brushed your bottom lip. "say thank you."

the words bubbled up in your throat before you could stop them. "thank you," you whispered, hating yourself even as your legs fell open slightly.

sunghoon smiled, slow and satisfied. "good girl." he stood abruptly, leaving you cold and aching in the theatre seat. "i'll be seeing you soon," he promised as he faded into the shadows. "very soon."

the screen went dark, then flickered back on to show real-time footage of you sitting there, your face flushed with desire and shame. as you watched, you couldn’t comprehend the rush of emotions going through you.

you staggered as you stood up, knocking over the popcorn stand in your rush to escape. the doors slammed shut behind you with finality, but it didn't matter—the images were burned into your retinas, playing on loop behind your eyelids every time you blinked. your future. your past. all his.

worst of all was the tiny, traitorous part of you that had lingered on one particular clip—the one where he'd kissed you so deeply you'd melted into it, your fingers tangled in his hair like you never wanted to let go.

that part of you wondered if resistance was even worth it anymore.

the maintenance corridor behind the shuttered arcade became your new hide out spot, its walls vibrating with a constant electrical hum that drowned out the mall's other noises.

you'd barricaded the door with a broken air hockey table, your back pressed against cold metal as you spread stolen flyers across the concrete floor. a penknife trembled in your hand as you carved routes into the paper, mapping every loop and dead end you'd encountered, marking each mirrored surface with a small 'x' that grew more frantic with each addition. 

for the past few hours you had been constantly muttering patterns to yourself—three flickers of the lights meant he was nearby, that weird overhead buzzing preceded his appearances by seven seconds exactly, he always emerged from the largest reflective surface in any given room.

you'd figured it out through sleepless nights and panicked observation—sunghoon wasn't just haunting the mall. according to all the myths and stories you had read in your previous researched for an adventure, he was some type of a mirror entity, his presence woven into the mall’s very architecture. and mirrors were his doorways. 

the realisation should have brought comfort because knowledge was power, wasn't it? but instead it settled in your stomach like a stone. how many reflective surfaces had you passed in your old life without realising he might be watching from the other side? how many shop windows, bathroom mirrors, even puddles on the street had been potential gateways for those hungry eyes?

the mall had continued shifting around you in subtle, malicious ways. you'd wake to find new corridors branching off familiar paths, their walls lined with mirrors angled just so to create infinite reflections. exit signs flickered and rearranged themselves into words that made your skin crawl when you accidentally read them aloud—"stay" one morning, "mine" the next. 

you took to covering every reflective surface you passed with stolen clothing, your fingers shaking whenever you caught your own exhausted reflection in a shard of broken glass.

but the most terrifying change wasn't in the mall—it was in you. you started noticing the careful patterns in his stalking, the way he'd linger exactly three steps behind you in security mirror reflections before manifesting. how he'd pause near certain corridors, giving you time to notice escape routes that always, always led you somewhere worse. 

he wasn't just chasing. he was leading you to where he wanted you to be. he had a sick fascination with chasing you. the realisation curled inside you like smoke, poisoning every thought even as your treacherous body began responding differently to his appearances—your pulse racing not just from fear, but from something hotter, darker, more shameful.

as you returned to reality from your spiralling thoughts, you realised that you hadn’t seen him in quite a while. it had been a few days and he had been pretty much laying low since the theatre incident. 

so, you carefully removed the obstructions from the door and stepped outside to see what was going on. just as you turned right, a corridor appeared between one blink and the next—a stretch of space you were sure hadn’t been there yesterday, lined with rusting kiddie rides and claw machines that shuddered to life as you passed. 

neon lights flickered overhead, painting the walls in harsh pinks and blues, the air full of mechanical chirps of arcade games activating without coins . your fingers tightened around the flashlight until the plastic groaned. every instinct screamed trap, trap, trap—he’d laid this path like a fisherman unspooling line, waiting to reel you in. and yet, your feet kept moving.

deeper into the arcade, a toy store’s entrance gaped dark ahead, its broken animatronic mascot slumped in the corner like a discarded puppet. you stepped inside before you could chicken out, the air thick with the scent of aged plastic and something faintly metallic. 

"okay, seriously," you muttered, kicking a deflated basketball out of your path. it hit a shelf of waterlogged stuffed animals, their fur patchy with mold. 

"how many times do i have to ask? why me?" your voice bounced off the ceiling, too loud in the silence. "why not just pick someone who'd actually want this fucked up—"

"because you're mine."

his voice came from everywhere at once—from the cracked speakers of a nearby karaoke machine, from the mouth of a decapitated doll at your feet, from the hot press of lips against your ear a second before hands locked around your waist. you gasped, elbow flying back to connect with nothing but air as he materialised behind you with a sharp smile.

"most guests just die," sunghoon continued, walking you backward until the checkout counter dug into your spine. his knee slid between yours, forcing your legs apart casually. 

"scream themselves hoarse begging for doors that won't open. but you—" his teeth grazed your pulse point, biting down just hard enough to make you whimper. "you keep fighting. even when your pretty little cunt drips for me. even when you moan my name in your sleep."

your flashlight cracked against his cheek before you could think better of it, the sound echoeing like a gunshot.

for one terrifying second, the entire mall went still. the flickering lights froze. the distant hum of electricity cut out. then sunghoon's hand was fisting in your hair, yanking your head back so hard white spots danced in your vision.

"oh, darling," he purred, pupils swallowing his irises whole. "you're gonna regret that."

the world tilted as he spun you around, your front slamming into the counter hard enough to bruise. his body pressed flush against yours, every inch of him radiating predatory intent. you could feel him, all of him—the thick length of his cock straining against his pants, pressed snug against your ass. your breath hitched traitorously.

"still so fucking feisty," he mused, grinding forward just to hear you gasp. one hand kept yours pinned to the counter while the other slid down to squeeze your throat—not cutting off air, just reminding you he could. "gonna have to get rid of that nasty attitude, huh?"

you thrashed, but he just chuckled darkly, his free hand making quick work of his belt. the clink of metal hitting tile sent a shiver down your spine. when his cock sprang free, heavy and flushed against your lower back, your thighs pressed together instinctively.

"none of that," he tsked, delivering a sharp smack to your ass that made you yelp. the sting bloomed hot under your skin, mixing with the shameful pulse between your legs. "on your knees. now."

when you hesitated, his grip on your hair tightened, forcing you down until your knees hit cracked linoleum. the pain barely registered—not with the way he was staring down at you with dark hunger. his cock bobbed inches from your face, the tip glistening with precum.

"open," he demanded, thumb pressing against your bottom lip.

you clenched your jaw shut, glaring up at him through your lashes. bad move. his smile turned razor-sharp as he leaned down, his free hand slipping between your legs to rub two fingers against your soaked panties.

"really?" he mocked, feeling you jerk against his touch. "gonna play tough when you're this wet? fucking dripping just from me manhandling you?" his fingers pressed harder, drawing a broken moan from your lips. "open your mouth or i stop. your choice."

the threat shouldn't have worked. it shouldn't have made your stomach flip. but when his fingers started to pull away, your lips parted on a whimper.

"good girl," he crooned, sliding his cock between your lips before you could change your mind. the stretch burned—he was thicker than you expected, the head bumping the back of your throat immediately. tears pricked your eyes as you gagged, your nails digging into his thighs.

sunghoon groaned, his hips jerking forward instinctively. "fuck, look at you," he rasped, tilting your chin up so he could watch your lips stretch around him. "taking me so pretty even when you're pouting. gonna ruin you for anyone else."

his thrusts started slow—shallow pumps that let you adjust to his size. but when you hollowed your cheeks experimentally, his control shattered. suddenly he was fucking into your mouth with abandon, the head of his cock hitting your throat with every other thrust. tears streamed down your face as you choked, spit dripping down your chin in messy strands.

"that's it," he praised, fingers tightening in your hair. "take it. you love this, don't you? love how fucking filthy you look right now." his voice dropped to a growl. "bet you'd come just from this if i touched you."

the humiliating part was that he wasn't wrong. your hips rocked forward uselessly, seeking friction against the air. sunghoon laughed, the bastard, but didn't give you what you wanted, his thrusts only growing erratic.

"gonna cum," he warned, pulling back just enough to let you breathe. "swallow every drop or i'll make you lick it off the floor."

you barely had time to nod before he was coming, hot spurts flooding your tongue. you swallowed obediently, your throat working around him. his groan was downright sinful, his hips stuttering as he milked himself dry on your tongue.

when he finally pulled out, you gasped for air, your lips swollen and slick. sunghoon looked wrecked—hair mussed, chest heaving, his cock still hard and glistening with your spit. he crouched to your level, tilting your chin up with two fingers.

as he hauled you up and kissed you deep, you weren't entirely sure you minded. you wondered when exactly the lines between captor and something else had begun to blur.

"look at you," he murmured, voice wrecked, thumb brushing your lower lip like he was marvelling at some precious artifact. the way his dark eyes drank you in—mouth slack, lashes fluttering, that stubborn defiance still flickering beneath the dazed surrender—made heat crawl up your neck. 

"so fucking pretty when you give in."

"i didn’t—ah!" your weak protest dissolved into a gasp as he suddenly gripped your jaw, his thumb pressing down on your tongue with possessiveness that sent sparks straight to your core.

"liar," sunghoon purred, watching with rapt attention as you instinctively sucked at his thumb. he dragged the wet digit down your neck, leaving a cool trail that made you shiver. 

you opened your mouth to retort, but the words dissolved into a startled moan as he manhandled you with terrifying ease, spinning you around and bending you over the dusty counter so fast the world tilted. the cold air hit your exposed skin just before his palm did—a sharp smack that made you jerk forward with a yelp. "f-fuck!"

"always so loud," he teased, yanking your jeans down past your thighs with no patience, his fingers skating over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. you could feel his smirk against your shoulder blades as you trembled. 

"so wet and i haven’t even touched you yet." his voice dipped into something awed, almost reverent, as he dragged two fingers through your slickness, spreading you open with obscene ease. "shit, you’re dripping. all for me?"

"shut up," you managed, voice trembling as much as your legs, fingers scrambling for purchase on the counter’s edge. 

the denial sounded weak even to your own ears, especially when your hips pressed back instinctively at the first brush of his cock against your entrance—thick and hot and already leaking.

sunghoon’s laugh was dark as he lined himself up, one hand fisting in your hair to yank your head back. "say that again when you’re not grinding against me like some desperate thing," he challenged, before slamming into you with one brutal thrust that punched the air from your lungs. 

you saw stars, knees buckling as the stretch burned—he was bigger than you’ve ever had, the ache bordering on too much until he pulled out and drove back in, hitting that spot inside you that made your toes curl. 

"f-fuck! sunghoon—"

"that’s it," he growled, releasing your hair to grip your hips instead, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. each snap of his hips sent the counter rattling, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the abandoned store alongside your broken whimpers. 

"take it. you can." his voice frayed at the edges as he angled deeper, the filthy squelch of your combined arousal filling the air. "fuck, the sounds you make..."

you bit your lip to stifle the noises, but he noticed immediately, leaning over your back to nip at your earlobe. 

"none of that," he chided, breath hot against your neck. "i want to hear every pretty little noise i pull from you." his hand slid around to your clit, rubbing tight circles that had you arching with a cry. "that’s my girl. let go for me."

the coil in your belly tightened unbearably as he whispered filth in your ear—how perfect you felt wrapped around him, how he’d dreamt of this since the first moment he saw you through the glass, how he knew you’d come untouched if he just fucked you deep enough. 

"p-please," you sobbed, nails scratching at the counter as your thighs quivered.

"please what, sweet thing?" he teased, thumb pressing harder on your clit as his thrusts turned erratic. "use your words."

"please let me come," you begged, the admission spilling out amidst broken moans. "i need it—need you—"

your orgasm crashed over you without warning as he snarled "good girl" against your skin, so intense your vision whited out, his name tumbling from your lips like a prayer as you clenched around him. 

sunghoon cursed, his rhythm faltering for the first time as he fucked you through it, his own release barrelling toward him. 

"gonna fill you up," he rasped, hips stuttering as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling inside you with a groan that sounded almost pained. "fuck—fuck, you take me so well."

for one suspended moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths and the slow drip of condensation from a broken freezer somewhere in the mall. then his lips brushed the shell of your ear, softer now, almost tender as he gently turned your face toward a nearby security mirror. 

"look," he murmured, still sheathed inside you, his arms bracketing your trembling body. the reflection showed your wrecked form—flushed skin, bitten lips, his handprint blooming across your skin.

"see how beautiful we are together?" his fingers traced the love bites along your shoulder. "you don’t really want to leave."

the worst part wasn’t the words. it was the way your heart stuttered in agreement as you watched his lips graze your pulse point in the mirror—his satisfied smirk, your dazed eyes, the obscene way his cum leaked down your thigh when he finally pulled out. and god help you, you’d never felt more alive.

you didn’t pull away when sunghoon pressed closer, his chest warm against your back as he nuzzled into your nape. his fingers traced lazy circles on your hip through the sticky mess he’d left between your thighs, the touch somehow possessive and tender at once. your body just hummed with leftover pleasure, muscles loose and pliant like melted wax.

"say it," he murmured against your ear, lips brushing the shell so softly it made you shiver. "just once. i know you want to." 

your throat tightened. you dug your nails into your palms, trying to summon the anger that used to come so easily. but all you could focus on was the way his breath hitched when your thighs squeezed together reflexively, how his hands trembled slightly where they gripped you—like he was the one unravelling now.

the word slipped out before you could stop it. "yours."

he went utterly still behind you. for one terrifying second, the entire mall seemed to hold its breath—the flickering lights froze mid-spasm, the distant dripping faucet you’d listened to for weeks went silent. then his arms locked around you so tight you felt his heartbeat against your spine, frantic as a caged bird. 

when he turned you to face him, his eyes were different—not that eerie predator’s gaze, but something raw and human and starving.

"again," he demanded, voice cracking on the word.

you expected to feel trapped. instead, something warm uncoiled in your chest when his thumb brushed your cheekbone with unbearable gentleness. 

"yours," you whispered, and watched his lashes flutter closed like you’d given him water after years in the desert.

the mall came alive around you. lights buzzed to life down the corridor, the broken neon sign outside the arcade sputtered pink and blue across your tangled bodies, and somewhere distant, a music box began playing that half-remembered lullaby from your childhood. when he kissed you, it wasn’t like before—no biting, no games—just slow, deep presses of his mouth that made your toes curl against the filthy tile.

"good girl," he breathed against your lips, the words so full of wonder it made your chest ache. "let me take care of you now. please." his hands slid under your thighs, lifting you like you weighed nothing, and you surprised yourself by tucking your face into his neck without protest. his skin smelled like that familiar vanilla and spicy scent, which was now comforting and familiar as your own heartbeat.

he carried you past mirrors that no longer showed your ragged reflection—just glimpses of a softer version of you with your fingers threaded through his hair, wrapped in his jacket, smiling sleepily up at him. part of you knew you should be terrified. the rest of you was too busy memorising the way his breathing stuttered when you nuzzled closer.

time moved differently after that. the mall stopped fighting you—or maybe you stopped fighting it. the flickering lights steadied. the food court started serving your favourite mango smoothies exactly when you craved them. one morning you woke to actual sunlight streaming through a skylight that hadn’t existed the night before, dust motes dancing in the beam like tiny stars.

"you’re spoiling me," you muttered when sunghoon pressed a cup of real coffee into your hands, just how you’d liked it before this place.

he grinned, all sharp teeth and boyish delight, as he flopped onto the mattress beside you. 

"that’s the point, dummy." his fingers laced through yours, cold as always but no longer unsettling. "if you’re happy, i’m happy." the way he said it made your stomach flip—like your joy was his oxygen.

you learned the new rules slowly. when you mentioned missing thunderstorms, the mall piped in recorded rain sounds until sunghoon caught you crying to the fake patter and snapped his fingers to make it stop. 

"none of that," he’d grumbled, pressing you into a pile of stolen blankets. "if you want real rain, i’ll find a way. just don’t—" his voice cracked. "don’t look at me like i’ve failed you."

the first time you saw another person—a college-aged girl with a backpack clutching her phone like a lifeline—your stomach dropped. sunghoon tensed beside you on the escalator, watching your face carefully. 

"want me to scare her off?" he whispered, already smiling at the idea.

you studied the girl’s wide eyes as she took in the suddenly pristine stores, the way her fingers hovered over a rack of vintage dresses that definitely hadn’t been there yesterday. she looked like you, once. hopeful and stupid.

"no," you said at last, turning your face into sunghoon’s shoulder. "she’s too loud anyway."

his laugh was bright and surprised, his kiss to your temple so proud it made your cheeks burn. "whatever you want, darling." 

as the girl wandered deeper into the mall, the lights behind her dim one by one. you don’t watch. you already knew how this was going to end.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

series taglist: @senazzzz @yourislandgirl @enhareaderr @neotbzenhaswag @innies-goth-gf @e-r-i-15 @antochios @goldenmellow @myuzivis @heeshlove @heejakeyy07whtv @psyches-reid

perm taglist: @soobnuuy @senascoooop @moafloribunda @lunalovesstories @firstclassjaylee @levandright @fancypeacepersona @gaonashi @kkamismom12 @evandsolo @candyredmoon @ijustwannareadstuff20 @tokkisluv @moonpri @k1ttyjwon @matchacake2 @fjayp @honey-bunnysweet @junenjwy @sea-moon-star @seokjinthescientist @mintchocoddeonut @yooonjnng @won1yoiz @sosaphiee @wondash @yenienha

[hoonieangel]

🩷🤠

FARMER’S DAUGHTER

pairing: sunghoon x fIreader

summary: sunghoon's down bad for the farmer's daughter

warnings: hidden relationship, kissing, making out, suggestive, slight exhibitionism if you squint?

wc: 2.8k

it was hot.

the summer sun was beating down on sunghoon who had been moving hay bales for the past twenty minutes. his shirt was clinging to his skin, sweat soaking through his tank top to the point there were visible damp spots.

he stopped for a second, standing up as he wiped his forehead with the back of his arm, shutting his eyes as he breathed out a heavy sigh, trying to think of anything besides how much more work he had to do in this sweltering heat today.

a firm hand landed on the back of his shoulder, causing him to let out a quiet curse as he opened his eyes, turning to see the farmer standing next to him.

“getting soft on me, boy?” he asked, tilting his chin at sunghoon as he took in the boys exhausted state.

“it’s hot out here,” sunghoon replied, shrugging as he watched the man’s lips curve into a small smile, “the work isn’t gonna do itself though.”

the man let out a rough chuckle, patting sunghoon’s shoulder lightly before letting his hand fall, looking back to the hay bales. “damn right. not bad, kid.”

“anything you need me to do after the hay bales?” sunghoon asked, raking his fingers through his hair as he pushed the sweat-soaked strands out of his face.

“the cows need feeding,” the man replied, gesturing off to another part of the farm absentmindedly, “after that, check on the pigs, will you?”

sunghoon opened his mouth to reply, before a voice he knew all too well cut through the air, chirpy and energized.

“hey!” you call out, strutting towards the two with two glasses of ice cold lemonade in your hands. “i brought you guys some lemonade.”

sunghoon turned around, his throat instantly tightening at the sight of you. tight denim shorts that hugged you just right, paired with a tiny white tank top that you had tied up, dirt-covered boots on your legs as you walked towards them.

you smiled, tilting your head just slightly as you got closer, trying to hold back as a laugh as you watched sunghoon try to keep his composure.

he was fighting everything inside him to not let his eyes rake over your body, to not grab your waist and pull you into him, to not press a soft kiss to your lips for walking up to him looking this good while your dad was right next to him.

“hey, pumpkin,” your dad smiled, taking the cold glass from your hands before taking a big sip, shaking his head at the taste. “about time someone brought us something.”

“of course, daddy,” you beam, handing the second glass to sunghoon before turning to him, a glint in your eyes he knew all too well, “can’t have my favorite farm hand overheating now, can we?”

you watched the way sunghoon nearly malfunctioned, clearing his throat as he turned away, hastily grabbing the lemonade from your hands.

“thank you”, he muttered, his voice tight, and you couldn’t stop yourself from watching the way his adam’s apple moved as he took a sip, your eyes following the movement.

“you’re welcome,” you replied sweetly, keeping your eyes on him a second longer than necessary. you knew you shouldn’t be this obvious when your dad was near but, my god, he looked good.

your dad took another sip beside him, his eyes flickering between the two of you before lowering the cup. “guess you better get back to the hay, sunghoon.” he glanced at the boy, turning his head just slightly towards the hay bales.

“and pumpkin, do you mind going inside and making some iced tea?” he continued, turning to you, his expression leaving no room for argument. not that there was any use, anyway, especially when you caught the way he was glancing between you and sunghoon- you could practically see the gears turning in his head.

you only nodded, keeping that sweet smile on your lips, careful to not give away anything to your father. “sure thing, daddy,” you reply, already turning on your heels to head back to the house, sending a small wave towards sunghoon, who only nodded at you in response.

you glanced down at your boots, kicking a small patch of dirt, watching the small cloud it formed dissipate into the air. being the only daughter- well, the only child- had its perks, but it also came with a lot of hovering, especially from your dad. also loneliness, considering you grew up on a farm, but you had grown used to that. your dad acted as if the world would end if something that was bad even in the slightest happened to you.

you understood it, really. you knew how cowboys acted, especially the way father’s viewed their daughters as their little girls to the end of time. but sometimes parts of you wondered what he’d do if he knew you weren’t the sweet, innocent farm girl he still painted you as in his mind- not while sunghoon was around.

you glanced back just once, just long enough to catch sunghoon’s eyes, the way he was watching you walk away, his grip still tight around the glass you had handed him. you spared a glance at your dad, making sure he wasn’t looking before blowing a tiny kiss at sunghoon, a quiet laugh leaving your lips as you turned back around, making quick steps back towards your house.

it’s a good thing iced tea didn’t take long to make.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

the sun had started to disappear at this point, casting a beautiful orange glow in the sky as the heat of the day began to disappear slowly. but the barn remained hot, sunghoon continuously wiping sweat off his furrowed brows as he crouched by the latch of one of the stalls. it had been sticking all week, and had chosen the perfect moment to completely snap off, leaving sunghoon to fix it unless he wanted to get extra work from your dad for breaking something.

he muttered a curse under his breath, running a hand through his disheveled hair as he shook his head lightly, already fed up with the workload from today. his tank top had only gotten damper, still sticking uncomfortably to his skin, mixed with the smell of hay and animals as he rolled his shoulders, wincing at the ache that ran through him.

then the barn door creaked open, quiet and creaky. he didn’t look up at first, figuring it was your dad coming to ask for help with something else.

“thought i’d find you in here,” you said softly, a small smile on your lips as you leaned against the neighboring stall’s door, your eyes flickering to his back muscles through his tank top, the way his biceps flexed every time he twisted the wrench on the latch.

he straightened slowly, his eyes raking up your figure before meeting your eyes, his usual lazy smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. then he was standing up, his eyes tracing your figure once again, and you caught the way his eyes darkened, his tongue poking out to run over his lips.

“you tryna’ kill me, baby?” he muttered, his eyes flickering up to yours again, the intensity of his gaze making something swirl deep inside you.

you bit back a smile, a teasing glint in your eyes as you answered, “maybe.”

he didn’t say anything, instead reaching out, curling his fingers in through the belt loops of your tiny shorts, tugging you closer to him. your hands instinctively lifted, resting on his chest to stabilize yourself, a small hum leaving you when you felt his muscles through his tank top, too many thoughts running through your mind.

“why’d you act like nothing earlier?” you asked, jutting your bottom lip out into a pout, but the teasing tone in your voice was evident. “like you didn’t know me at all?”

sunghoon’s jaw clenched. his hand stayed where they were, low on your waist, but his fingers tapped small patterns against your skin.

“if i acted how i wanted to,” he leaned in, close enough for your noses to touch, your lips a hairsbreadth apart as he continued, his voice lower than before, “your daddy’d bury me under the cornfield.”

you blinked, your lips parting slightly as your heart skipped a beat- but your smile never faltered. your hands slid up his chest slowly, fingers curling around the hem of his shirt as you tilted your head just slightly, a quiet hum leaving you.

“well,” you whispered, tugging him just slightly closer, your lips brushing against his, “he’s not here right now, is he?”

sunghoon let out a quiet, rough laugh, his hands sliding lower on your his as he leaned down. and then he was lifting you onto a nearby hay bale, stepping between your legs before you could fully process what had just happened.

his eyes scanned your face slowly, his fingers digging just slightly into your hips, his voice coming out quiet. “i’ve been thinking about this all day.”

you swallowed, your gaze dropping to his lips. “yeah?”

he nodded once, his voice a bit louder, one hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. “yeah.”

and then he kissed you. you couldn’t help the way your body instantly melted into his, your arms immediately sliding around his neck as you kissed him back, a quiet sigh slipping past your lips. and it was like that was all he needed.

his mouth moved more urgently, his fingers tightening on you as he pulled you closer to the edge of the hay bale, one hand sliding around to splay across the small of your back as he stepped closer, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he needed to be closer.

your hands tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as his lips parted against yours, and he let out the quietest, most sinful groan against your lips- the noise making your head spin with need.

he pulled away first, heavy breaths leaving both of you as he rested his forehead against yours, his eyes dark and dazed as he stared into yours.

“you drive me crazy,” he muttered, his voice low, the corner of his lips quirking up. “you know that?”

you just smiled, a quiet, breathy laugh leaving you as you tugged him closer, connecting your lips once again, already aching for more of him.

it was hotter this time. more desperate. his hands were roaming everywhere now, sliding up your back, fingers slipping under your shirt like he needed someway to ground himself from losing his whole mind right now.

you could feel every part of him pressed against you now, strong and solid. your mind was spinning at his touch, heat pooling deep in your belly.

“sunghoon,” you murmured against his lips, your voice barely audible as your fingers tightened in his hair, your body aching for more of him.

he only hummed against your lips, his hands tightening their hold on your body. his tongue swept along your bottom lip, your mouth instantly opening as his tongue slipped into your mouth, and you whimpered, unable to control the way your hips twitched in his hold.

but he felt it. and it only made a rough groan slip past his lips, both hands sliding up under your shirt, his fingers tracing your spine slowly and making shivers erupt across your body as you tilted your head, deepening the kiss as your legs tightened around him, locking his body against yours.

the hay behind you shifted as he leaned in more, pushing you back just slightly, until one arm braced beside your head, caging you in. pieces of hay dug into your back, scratching your skin, but you couldn’t focus on anything besides sunghoon’s touch, his lips against yours. he broke the kiss, just to instantly latch onto your neck, his lips forming a trail as his lips pressed against your throat.

you whimpered out his name, your fingers moving from his hair to his shoulders, desperately trying to ground yourself as need swirled inside you.

“you’re gonna be the death of me,” he murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your jaw. “i swear to god, baby, if i don’t stop-“

“don’t,” you gasp out, all critical thinking leaving your mind as your hands slipped down his sides, gripping the hem of his tank top, desperate for something, anything, your body aching to close the gap that somehow still existed between your bodies.

you heard the way his breath hitched, and then his mouth was back on yours instantly, his kisses rougher now. more desperate. every press of his lips, every time his tongue slid against yours, every sigh that slipped past his lips had your head spinning, your hands tugging at his shirt, whining something against his lips.

everything felt too hot. your legs wrapped tighter around his hips, feeling the way his body pressed against yours. his hands were sliding down your body, his touch rough and desperate, and your back arched into his touch instantly, a desperate whimper leaving you. then his hands were on the edge of your shorts, tugging at the waistband just slightly, before his hands moved to the button, his fingers beginning to undo it, your hips pushing up against his hold-

“sunghoon?”

you both froze. your eyes flew open, his hands stilling on your body as heaving breaths left both of you, panic settling in your chest as your eyes flickered towards the barn door, praying to every god that your dad would just walk away.

but then you heard his footsteps approaching, your eyes widening as your stomach dropped, sunghoon’s hands immediately leaving your body as he swallowed. hard.

“get off,” you whispered, panic lacing your voice as you pushed at sunghoon’s chest, sliding off the hay bale, “he’s coming inside- move.”

but he was already moving. he backed away from you so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste, as he pulled his shirt down, trying to make himself look somewhat normal. he ran his hands through his hair, trying to smooth it down, before he wiped at his lips.

you were doing the same, wiping hay off your body, straightening out your shirt, fixing your hair to the best of your ability, wiping at your lips and neck- trying to calm down your uneven breaths. and then the barn door pushed open.

sunghoon had barely knelt down by the latch on time, trying his damndest to look at it like it was the most interesting thing in the world, his fingers fiddling with it like he hadn’t been pulling whimpers past your lips one minute ago.

“there you are,” your dad’s voice came, stepping fully inside the barn, “i was calling you- that damn latch still giving you trouble?”

sunghoon cleared his throat, turning his head towards him. “yeah. i’m just about done with it. think it would just be best if you bought a new one, though,” he responded, his voice lower than usual.

your dad simply nodded, his eyes flickering around the barn before finally landing on you, your legs crossed over one another as you leaned against the hay bale.

“pumpkin,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing just slightly, your stomach dropping as anxiety ran through you. “what’re you doing in here?”

“i was just checking if he needed help,” you replied, biting your tongue as you realized how obvious that sounded. “i finished the iced tea a while ago.”

“next time, let the boy work,” he nodded, before heading to the opposite end of the barn, “you’ll distract him.”

“of course, daddy,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure it was going to beat out of your chest. “sorry.”

he didn’t respond, instead rummaging through some box full of tools, presumably looking for something to help sunghoon out. you took that as your cue to leave. but before you could reach the door, sunghoon’s hand caught your wrist, not hard, but just enough to stop you in your tracks.

your eyebrows shot up, instantly looking to make sure your dad wasn’t looking. he wasn’t. his back was turned to you two, still digging in the box.

you looked down at sunghoon, his thumb rushing over your wrist in the lightest of touches as he spoke, just quiet enough for you to hear. “we’re not finished.”

the shock on your body melted away, and your lips curled into the smallest smile, leaning down just slightly as you kept your gaze on his.

“you’re getting bold, cowboy. my dad’s right behind us,” you whispered, tilting your head slightly before straightening up.

his breath caught for just a second, a mixture of something smug and something disbelieving taking over his features. but before he could respond, you were already pulling your wrist from his grip, sauntering away.

and right before you fully stepped out of the barn, you tossed him a glance over your shoulder, that signature smile playing on your lips as you shot him a wink, finally shutting the large door behind you.

you couldn’t wait to get him alone again.

[hoonieangel]

cutie jungwon 🩷

"who's that boy?" જ⁀➴ ♡

pairing: yang jungwon x reader

genre: shy!jungwon x influencer!reader, youtuber!reader, content creator!reader, established relationship, loverboy!jungwon, famous!reader, smau/fake texts, romance, fluff

warnings: kissing and some suggestive stuff, stan culture (some neg some pos), profanity, 18+ pls ignore typos if any

synopsis: yn, a popular influencer known for her bubbly personality finds herself going viral on the internet when people spot a boy in the back of one of her vlogs, leading people to eventually find her boyfriend on twitter.

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @manaah02 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy @s1rawb3rry @ddeonuswife @orxngebloods @xylatox @saccharinezennie @izzyy-stuff @yooonjnng

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[hoonieangel]

TEXTS WITH BOYFRIEND YANG JUNGWON

[hoonieangel]

no one fucking talk to me, this was so good. i read it all in one sitting and it was so worth it omg 😖

SAFE & SOUND — enhypen (m)

Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

word count: 142k words

genre: dystopian, post-apocalyptic survival, horror/thriller, slow burn, ANGST

status: completed! (15/01/25 – 05/04/25)

warnings: depictions of graphic violence, blood, death, and loss, horror themes, usage of strong language and profanities, descriptions of gore, killing, weaponry use, survivor guilt, trauma bonding, morally gray characters/ideologies, and basically anything and everything that comes with a zombie apocalypse. readers' discretion is advised. please click out if you have a weak heart, I MEAN IT.

disclaimer: this is a work of pure fiction. If any context is similar to any other stories, it's either inspired (in which credit will be given) or just a coincidence. the characters' personalities, words, actions and thoughts do not represent them in real life. any resemblance to any real life events or person, present or past, are purely coincidental. i apologise in advance for any spelling or grammar mistakes.

notes from nat: some plot points and zombies are inspired by the walking dead franchise. also inspired by safe & sound—mother swift's soundtrack for the hunger games. actually lowkey want to kms for writing this.

part 1 - rotten

part 2 - warmth

part 3 - whispers

part 4 - blood

part 5 - people

part 6 - dusk

part 7 - hope

extra cuts - jungwon's pov

Copyright© 2025 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved

[hoonieangel]

very good!! i loved this

Knuckles, Bruise, Heart

enhypen masterlist

my wattpad story - ༒︎ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄 - 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 ༒︎

quiet brute!jungwon (enhypen) x bruised fighter!fem!reader | weak hero AU (??)| enemies to allies to lovers | fists-first trust | trauma bonding | found family | earned tenderness | eventual smut | brutal past, soft future

wc: 10k

summary: In a school ruled by fists, you’re just trying to survive. Then Jungwon steps in—not to protect you, but to fight beside you.

warning: graphic school violence, bullying, fistfights, knife threats, blood, bruises, broken bones, trauma, parental neglect, found family themes, emotional vulnerability, intense romantic tension, slow-burn healing, smut (eventually) including rough sex, filthy talk, oral (both), hickeys, choking, grinding, face sitting, light possessiveness, praise kink, crying during sex, emotional aftercare, very detailed sex scenes using explicit language

♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱ ♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆꒷꒦꒷⋆✧˙⋆⊹.♱ ♱⁺. ⋆˙✧⋆

You never meant to make a name for yourself.

It just kind of happened—somewhere between a shattered nose, two broken fingers, and a hallway that smelled like copper for three days. You’d been trying to drag Sakura out of another stairwell brawl when one of the older boys—taller, louder, already with his jacket sleeves rolled up—said something crude about her mouth. So you broke his jaw. Clean. Everyone watched. No one interfered. The silence after the crack was almost sacred, like even the school walls had sucked in their breath.

That’s the first time you heard his name connected to yours.

“Isn’t that one of his?”

“You touched Jungwon’s crew?”

“Girl’s fucking dead.”

You didn’t know who “he” was at the time. You do now.

⸻

Eunjang High isn’t a place for futures—it’s where Seoul’s leftovers learn how to survive. Nobody wears their blazers right. Nobody trusts the teachers. Every inch of the school is carved up by fists, gangs, and old debts. There’s no proper hierarchy—just bruises, bloodlines, and whoever hits hardest. And at the top of that quiet, unspoken food chain? Yang Jungwon. No loud declarations. No slogans on the back of his jacket. He just walks down the hallway and lockers shut. Crowds part. People lower their eyes. He’s not the biggest. Not even the fastest. But when he hits someone, they don’t get back up.

He doesn’t run a gang. Not officially. But a few loyal followers trail him like shadows.

There’s Jake, soft smile and stupid dimples, always carrying a first-aid kit even though he swears he’s “done with the violence.” He’s the reason your busted lip didn’t scar worse. He’s also the only person who ever says hi to you in the morning. Always like, “Hey, you eating? You look like you haven’t eaten,” like he hasn’t noticed the bruises blooming under your collarbone. You pretend not to like him. He pretends not to care.

Sunghoon’s different. Lean, long-limbed, eyes like ice. He’s the quiet one perched on desks, watching everything from behind his fringe. You don’t know if he hates you or finds you interesting—maybe both. He hasn’t spoken to you once. But the one time a teacher tried to suspend you for a fight you didn’t start, Sunghoon left the room with him. The teacher came back alone. The suspension vanished.

Then there’s Sakura, your ride-or-die, your other half, your walking chaos machine. She doesn’t fight like you—her hits aren’t clean, her stance sucks, and she always kicks with the wrong leg—but she fights anyway, and that’s what matters. She’s the reason you ever stayed in this godforsaken school. If you’re fire, she’s gasoline. You’ve both dragged each other home bleeding more times than you can count.

Yunjin and Eunchae are outliers. Yunjin’s older, smarter, already on her way out with a full ride to university—if she can make it out alive. She deals in information. Knows who owes who, where the next ambush is, which rooftop to avoid on Tuesdays. She’s not loyal to anyone except herself and maybe, on rare nights, to you and Sakura. Eunchae’s younger, quieter. Not a fighter. Not a schemer. Just a girl who reads in corners and wears oversized sweaters like armor. You watch over her the way you wish someone had watched over you. Some days, she’s the only thing keeping you soft.

⸻

So when you knock out that senior—the one with Jungwon’s colors half-tied to his bag strap—it isn’t courage. It’s instinct. He had Sakura by the wrist, her cheek already split. You saw red. You don’t remember throwing the punch, but you remember the way he hit the floor. You remember the silence after.

And more than anything, you remember the moment you looked up and saw him.

Jungwon.

At the far end of the hall, leaning against the lockers, hands in his pockets. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t glaring. He just looked at you like you were a piece of glass already cracked—waiting to shatter.

He turned around and walked away.

You should have been relieved.

You weren’t.

Because when Yang Jungwon walks away, it’s only ever to pick the right time to strike.

“You know what he’s going to do, right?” Sakura’s voice cut through the haze in your skull as you leaned back against the rooftop water tank, knees pulled up, knuckles still split open. The air was biting cold, wind tugging at the blood-stained sleeves of your uniform. You didn’t answer her right away. You just stared at the rust on your fingertips like it might have come from the railing instead of someone’s teeth.

She shifted beside you, hugging her arms around her knees. Her lip was swollen. Your jaw ached. Between the two of you, it looked like you’d gone ten rounds in a ring — and technically, you had. Minus the rules. Minus the mercy.

“He’s not going to come after me,” you said eventually.

Sakura snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself. He’s not going to come after you—he’s going to end you. Quietly. The way Jungwon does everything.” You glanced at her, one brow raised. “You’re being dramatic.” “I’m being realistic.” She tilted her head. “He doesn’t make a mess. You know that, right? If you’re going to die, it’ll be clean.” The bell echoed faintly across the rooftop. You didn’t move.

⸻

Third period passed in a blur. You skipped English. The teacher barely noticed — she’d stopped calling roll for the back half of the class weeks ago. Bloodstains on your collar dried into a stiff, copper crust. You didn’t bother changing your uniform. If someone wanted to start something, they’d have a reason now.

Nobody did.

But you felt it. Every hallway had eyes. Every time a door creaked open, you caught yourself bracing for footsteps. The silence around you was no longer ignorance — it was tension. It was people watching, waiting. The school had a nose for blood. Especially when it came to territory. And apparently, you’d crossed a line.

You were halfway to the courtyard when someone fell into step beside you.

“You want ice for that?”

Jake.

You didn’t look at him. “It’s fine.”

“You say that every time.”

He said it easily, the way someone might comment on the weather. But his eyes flicked to your bruised temple, the dried blood near your ear, the way your right shoulder didn’t quite move the same as your left. He had a lollipop in his mouth — watermelon, from the color — and a white armband tucked into his jacket pocket, just visible.

“You saw?” you asked.

He nodded. “He was watching too.”

You stopped walking.

Jake didn’t. Just shrugged, tossed the lollipop stick into a trash can, and waited for you to catch up.

“Didn’t say anything. Just turned around.” “Yeah. I noticed.”

Jake gave you a sideways glance, all warmth and soft sighs. “You know he doesn’t talk much.” “I don’t need him to talk. I need him to stay out of my way.” That made Jake laugh. A low, disbelieving sound, not unkind. “You just punched out his right-hand guy in front of the vending machines. You are in his way.” ⸻

By lunch, you weren’t hungry — but you showed up anyway. It was dangerous to skip. Not because of the teachers. Because of who else might notice.

You slid into your usual table near the back. Sakura was already there, twisting the cap off a bottle of milk with one hand and texting with the other.

“Yunjin says it’s quiet downstairs,” she said, not looking up. “No retaliation yet.” “Yet,” you muttered.

Sakura handed you a hard-boiled egg, peeled halfway. You cracked it the rest of the way with your thumbnail and took a bite. The yolk was overcooked. Your stomach turned.

Then someone dropped a tray across from you.

You looked up.

Eunchae.

Her eyes were wide as ever, lashes damp, bangs pinned back with mismatched clips. She sat with both hands folded over a cheap bento box — cucumber kimbap, string cheese, two tiny oranges.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

You blinked. She wasn’t talking to Sakura. She was looking right at you.

You hesitated. “Yeah. Just a bad morning.” “Oh.” She smiled like it meant something to her that you were honest. “I saved a seat for you in sixth. Don’t let Hyeseo take it. She smells weird.” Sakura snorted into her soup.

⸻

It was on your way to sixth that it happened.

You’d just turned the corner near the old stairwell — the one with the cracked windows and the creaking lights — when the hall emptied. Not just quiet. Vacant.

You stopped walking.

No voices. No footsteps. No Jake. No Sakura. No Eunchae.

Then he stepped out.

Jungwon.

Still in uniform. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Hands in his pockets like he had all the time in the world.

You didn’t run. You didn’t speak. You didn’t flinch.

He looked at you — really looked. Slowly. Like he was reading a page.

“You broke his jaw,” he said finally, voice low and even.

“He grabbed my friend.”

A beat.

“Not your crew?” he asked.

“No.”

“Then why step in?”

You stared at him. “Because someone had to.” That made something flicker in his eyes. Not softness. Not amusement. Just…interest. Like he’d been expecting a different answer.

“I’m not going to hit you,” he said, quiet.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should.”

He stepped closer. You didn’t move.

“I’m not interested in showing off,” he said. “And I don’t punish people for protecting their own.” That surprised you. You didn’t show it.

“But,” he added, tone sharpening, “you made a spectacle. Now people are watching. They think I let it slide.” You said nothing.

“So I need you to understand this,” he murmured. “Next time you fight in my territory, you clear it with me. Or I won’t stop it. No matter who you’re protecting.” You looked him in the eyes. “And if I don’t?” He held your gaze for a long, cold moment.

Then, calmly, he said:

“Then you and I have a problem.”

And just like that, he turned and walked away.

____________

Sakura didn’t speak to you the whole walk home.

She just walked half a step behind you, hoodie pulled low, eyes on the cracked pavement, breathing sharp through her nose like she was trying not to snap. You let her simmer. She’d seen you with Jungwon. Seen how close he’d stood, the way your fists hadn’t curled. She wasn’t mad at you, not really. She was mad that the silence between you and him hadn’t exploded into something more violent.

And maybe she was mad because you didn’t want it to.

When you reached her front gate, she paused.

“You think he’s fair,” she said, not a question.

You shrugged. “I think he’s calculating.” “Same thing?”

You didn’t answer. She didn’t expect you to. Just nodded, once, like she was logging the truth away for later. You bumped her shoulder as she turned to go, and she flicked you off over her shoulder without looking back.

⸻

The next morning, you bled before homeroom.

It started with a shove. Not even a hard one — just a little bump near the side entrance where the third-years liked to loiter. You didn’t react at first. Not until the second shove, then the third, and the fourth that came with a hand around your backpack strap, yanking you back toward the stairwell.

There were three of them. Not Jungwon’s crew. Not even affiliated.

Just dumb kids with something to prove.

“You’re the girl who hit Kangmin?” the tallest sneered. His hair was half-bleached, poorly. His knuckles were already taped. “That guy’s my cousin.” You didn’t answer. Just twisted out of the grip and stepped back into open space, eyes scanning for cameras (none), witnesses (too far), and exit routes (none worth running).

They didn’t wait.

The first punch was wild. The second caught your ribs, hard and sharp. You doubled forward, then pivoted, grabbing one by the collar and driving your knee up into his stomach. Someone kicked you from behind — you slammed into the concrete wall and bit your tongue hard enough to taste blood.

It was ugly. Fast. Dirty.

You knocked one out by throwing him down the stairs. He cracked his shoulder on the landing. Another ran. The third didn’t get the chance.

You grabbed him by the hair, slammed his head into the railing, then pulled back, breathing ragged, vision ringing in red.

“You done?” you rasped.

He groaned in response.

So no — not done. But broken enough.

⸻

Jake found you in the infirmary twenty minutes later. He opened the door without knocking and frowned like it was just another Tuesday.

“You need to stop doing this,” he said, sitting beside the cot with a tired sigh. “Do you like being in pain or is this some kind of performance art?” You rolled your eyes and winced. “Do you like following me around or is that some kind of fetish?” Jake grinned. “Maybe I just like playing nurse.” You didn’t smile, but the corner of your mouth twitched. He noticed. He always did.

He peeled off your jacket gently, wincing when he saw the purple bruise blooming across your ribs.

“Shit,” he muttered, running warm fingers along the edge. “That’s gonna suck tomorrow.” “It already sucks now.”

He glanced at you, eyes warm but sharp. “They jumped you?” “Yeah. Kangmin’s cousin.”

Jake whistled. “Moron.”

“Three of them.”

“Still morons.” He started applying ointment, slow and careful. “You tell Jungwon?” You tensed. “Why would I?”

“Because it happened in his stairwell.” Jake’s voice was casual, but his eyes weren’t. “And it’s his job to keep shit like that from happening.” You narrowed your gaze. “That what you think this is? A job?” Jake didn’t blink. “I think if he doesn’t handle it, someone else will. And I’d rather not carry two people back to the infirmary this week.” You didn’t respond.

⸻

You skipped math. Sakura skipped it with you.

Instead, you perched in the music room — no instruments, just cracked chairs and one functional heater that groaned like it might explode. Sakura stole you a yogurt drink from the cafeteria and peeled the foil lid before handing it over.

“You shouldn’t have fought them alone,” she said.

“I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice.”

“Not for people like us.”

She didn’t argue.

You sipped the drink. It stung your tongue. You didn’t tell her about the conversation with Jake. Or how Jungwon had walked past the infirmary after fourth period and glanced through the door. He hadn’t come in. But he’d seen you.

You’d felt him.

⸻

After school, you found yourself back in the courtyard. Not waiting — just passing through. Or so you told yourself.

The air smelled like wet asphalt and cigarette smoke. Boys leaned against rusted railings. Someone was playing music on their phone — old hip-hop, barely audible.

You spotted him near the fence.

Jungwon.

Hands in his pockets, hood up. Alone.

You shouldn’t have walked over. But you did.

He noticed you halfway across the yard. His eyes flicked up, unreadable. You stopped just outside arm’s reach.

“They jumped me,” you said.

“I heard.”

You watched him. He didn’t move.

“I handled it,” you added.

“I saw.” A pause. “You’re not bad.” The praise didn’t land like praise. It landed like a trap.

You swallowed. “You going to do something about it?” Jungwon tilted his head. “Why would I?” Your eyes narrowed. “Because it happened on your ground.” “And you’re not mine.”

There it was — clear and brutal.

You almost turned. Almost walked away.

But then he said:

“I don’t protect people who don’t listen.” You froze.

“Last time,” he said evenly, “I told you not to fight in my halls without clearing it first. You did it anyway. I’m not cleaning up after your ego.” “It wasn’t ego,” you snapped. “It was survival.” “Same thing here.”

He stepped forward then, just once. Close enough that his breath hit your cheek.

“You want protection?” he asked quietly. “Then prove you’re worth it.” You stared him down. Didn’t blink. Didn’t back away.

Then you said, “I don’t need your protection.” And he smiled — just barely. Like something about that answer interested him.

“I know,” he said.

And walked past you.

___________

The first rule of Eunjang was never fight for free.

No matter how moral the excuse, how noble the cause, how furious the rage — you didn’t lift your fists unless there was a stake. Territory. Debt. Family. Reputation. Fighting for anything else made you look desperate. Or stupid. Or dead.

So when you heard Eunchae scream, you hesitated for half a second. Just long enough to break the rule.

You were rounding the corner behind the old gym, earbuds in, hoodie up, bruised ribs wrapped tight and aching, when the sound hit you—sharp, panicked, too high-pitched to be playful.

By the time you pulled your earbud out, it came again.

“Let go of me—what the hell are you doing—” Your legs moved before your brain did.

Behind the dumpsters, down the slope of broken pavement and overgrown grass, were three boys in private school uniforms—white button-downs, ironed slacks, not from Eunjang. One of them had his hand twisted in Eunchae’s bag strap. Another had her arm pinned to the chain-link fence. She looked terrified. She looked like she’d been crying for a while before you got there.

You didn’t ask questions.

You just threw your elbow into the first boy’s nose and felt it give under your weight.

Everything went white after that.

⸻

They didn’t fight fair. You didn’t expect them to. One pulled your hood over your eyes. Another grabbed your waist and slammed you into the fence. You kicked his shin, then bit down when he tried to yank your head back.

You got one down — hard. The other two backed off for a second.

You didn’t notice Jungwon until he was already there.

No warning. No announcement. Just a blur of black sleeves and sharp movement. His fist hit one boy’s temple with a sickening crack, and the kid dropped like a puppet with the strings cut.

You turned just in time to see Jungwon twist the last one’s wrist, slam him to the ground, and drive his knee into the boy’s back. Calm. Brutal. Efficient.

You were bleeding from the temple, breathing hard. Your arm was scraped to hell.

He looked at you without speaking. Blood was dripping from his knuckles.

“Eunchae,” you rasped.

She was crouched against the fence, crying. You dropped to her side and reached for her.

“I’m okay,” she whispered. “I’m okay, I— I tried to run—” You brushed the hair from her face, gently. “You did good.” She clung to your wrist.

When you stood, Jungwon was still looking at you. His hands were still in fists.

You looked around. “Security cameras?” “Nope. Already checked.”

You nodded. “You followed me?” He didn’t answer.

You took that as a yes.

⸻

Half an hour later, you were in the abandoned nurse’s office on the second floor. Yunjin had found you halfway through dragging Eunchae down the back stairwell and took over without question.

“Idiots,” she muttered, pressing gauze to your head. “Private school trash think they can just walk in and grab girls off the fence? This place needs to be firebombed.” Eunchae was curled up on the cot, Sakura sitting beside her, holding her hand.

You looked across the room at Jungwon.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Blood still drying on his fingers.

“You didn’t have to show up,” you said.

He didn’t move. “I didn’t do it for you.” You snorted. “Thanks.”

“I did it because of her.” He nodded toward Eunchae. “She’s under my protection.” You stared at him. “Since when?” “Since I said so.”

Yunjin muttered, “Oh, that’s cute. She gets inducted like a lost puppy.” You ignored her. “So now I’m in your debt?” Jungwon’s eyes were unreadable. “No.” You blinked. “Why not?”

“Because you already paid it.” You froze.

He pushed off the wall and stepped closer — not threatening, just solid. Present.

“You fight smart,” he said. “You move like you’ve been hurt before.” You didn’t answer.

He tilted his head slightly. “Next time you hear something in a blind spot, don’t run in without checking elevation.” You narrowed your eyes. “You giving me pointers now?” “Just one.”

Then — for the first time — he smiled. Not cruel. Not mocking. Just quiet.

“Nice elbow,” he said. “Clean.” You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything.

You just nodded once.

And for the first time, you both walked out of a room together.

Not as enemies.

Not yet as allies.

But something in between.

A bruise that hadn’t bloomed fully yet.

Something earned.

____________

The bruises bloomed slow.

You didn’t notice the worst of them until the next morning, when you bent to tie your shoes and couldn’t straighten back up. Purple curved beneath your ribs, a deep ache blooming in waves. You wrapped the gauze tighter. Kept your head down. Gritted your teeth through first period like nothing hurt. Like nothing ever did.

Sakura glared at you the whole time from her seat. She’d been quiet since the Eunchae incident—hovering close but not pressing. That’s how she showed worry. Not with questions. With presence. With sharp glances. With the way she threw your favorite drink on your desk without a word and acted like it wasn’t on purpose.

Jake passed you a note during second period. You unfolded it under the desk.

u still alive?

Then below it:

jk. but seriously. i have bandaids.

You rolled your eyes. Then wrote: i’m not bleeding.

He sent back:

you sure? emotional wounds count too.

You flicked the paper back at him. He grinned.

⸻

Jungwon didn’t show up until lunch.

You spotted him through the windows, standing at the edge of the courtyard like a statue cut from smoke and steel — head down, hood up, silent and still.

You weren’t going to go to him. You told yourself that twice. You told yourself again as you stood. As you crossed the cafeteria. As you stepped into the open, your boots crunching against dead leaves.

He didn’t look up as you approached.

You stopped beside him. Not too close.

“The guy from yesterday,” you said. “The one with the busted shoulder. Did you—” “I handled it.”

You hesitated. “How?” “Doesn’t matter now.” You frowned. “I don’t like being left out of the loop.” “You’re not in it.”

That stung more than it should have.

“I was the one who got her out,” you said, voice low. “I took the hits. I dragged her away.” “I know.”

“Then why treat me like I’m disposable?” He turned his head then. Looked at you — not cold, not sharp. Just calm. Careful.

“I don’t treat you like anything,” he said.

You blinked.

“Because I don’t know what you are yet.” You stared at him.

“Some people fight for power. Some fight because they’re scared. Some fight because it’s the only thing that makes them feel like they matter.” He paused.

“And some fight to protect something.” You looked away.

“I don’t know which one you are yet,” he finished.

The silence that followed wasn’t empty. It was full. Weighted.

Then, to your surprise, he pulled something from his jacket pocket — a small plastic case.

“Pain patches,” he said, holding it out.

You stared at him.

He didn’t move. Just waited.

Finally, you took it.

Your fingers brushed his.

He didn’t pull back.

⸻

That night, your body gave out.

Not during a fight. Not during a run. Just… walking home. One second you were upright, the next your knee buckled and your palm hit the sidewalk. You scraped it. Swore under your breath. Tried to get back up—and failed.

Someone caught your elbow.

You flinched.

“It’s just me.”

You looked up.

Jungwon.

He crouched beside you, silent, steady, eyes scanning your face, your posture, your breath.

“You’re overheating,” he said quietly. “You didn’t eat enough.” “I’m fine,” you snapped.

“You’re not.”

He didn’t argue further. Just slipped your arm over his shoulder and helped you up — firm, but not rough. He walked with you, slow and even, letting you lean as much or as little as you needed.

Neither of you spoke.

The silence stretched, but not awkwardly. Just long enough to mean something.

⸻

When you reached your apartment building, you expected him to leave.

He didn’t.

He followed you inside, up two flights, to your door. You unlocked it. Pushed it open.

He didn’t ask to come in. You didn’t ask him to leave.

He closed the door behind him.

You sat on the floor.

He sat beside you.

Still silent.

The city lights leaked through the window. Someone shouted on the street below. A dog barked. Your heartbeat slowed.

Then he said, quietly, “How long have you lived alone?” You turned your head. Met his eyes.

“Since I was fourteen.” He nodded.

“Me too.”

And you realized that was the most personal thing either of you had said so far.

You looked down at your palm, still scraped and pink.

He reached over, wordless, and opened a bandaid.

You let him press it to your skin.

Then you whispered, “You always show up at the end.” He tilted his head. “So?” “So why?”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then he said:

“Because if I showed up earlier… I wouldn’t stop.” You stared at him.

He stared back.

Then stood up.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” And just like that — no promises, no declarations, no apologies — he left.

But something was different.

You didn’t feel like he was walking away.

You felt like he’d finally decided not to.

________

You felt it before you heard it.

The tension. The stillness in the hallway air. The way the chatter died out three seconds too early, the way bodies shifted toward walls like they knew something was coming and didn’t want to be in the way.

You turned the corner.

And there he was.

Jake.

Pressed against the lockers.

Blood on his temple.

Lip split.

Three guys in uniform you didn’t recognize—bigger, broader, not from your grade. One had a chain wrapped around his fist. Another had your backpack slung over his shoulder like a trophy.

And in the middle of them, breathing hard but standing tall, was Jake.

You didn’t hesitate.

You stepped between them and him like it was your name on his forehead, not his own.

“Let him go,” you said calmly.

The guy with the chain laughed. “Another hero?” You stared at him. “You picked the wrong school to test today.” Jake’s voice, rough: “Y/N, don’t—” But it was too late.

The one holding your backpack swung first.

You ducked, spun, kicked out his knee. He went down hard.

The chain guy moved faster. Fist flying, metal gleaming. You caught the blow with your forearm, pain blooming sharp and hot. You twisted, grabbed the chain, yanked him forward—straight into your knee.

His nose broke with a satisfying crunch.

Then, behind you—

A thud.

You turned.

The third guy was already on the floor.

Jungwon stood above him.

Hands loose. Eyes sharp. Breathing even.

Like he’d always been there.

You didn’t speak.

Neither did he.

But you moved like you’d practiced it.

You grabbed the chain. He grabbed the bag.

You took the left. He took the right.

It was a blur after that — clean, fast, brutal.

You worked in sync. Like matching halves. Every dodge, every strike, every time you leaned out of the way, he was already there behind you, catching the fall, flipping the counter, watching your blind spot.

You slammed one guy’s head into the lockers. He swept another’s legs out.

He caught your wrist when you slipped.

You touched his shoulder when he wavered.

It wasn’t choreographed. It wasn’t planned.

It was earned.

When it was over, all three were down. Groaning. Clutching ribs. Spitting blood.

You were breathing hard. Jungwon wasn’t.

Jake stared at you both, stunned.

Jungwon tossed your bag back to you without a word.

You caught it one-handed.

“Thanks,” you muttered.

He didn’t respond. Just turned to Jake.

“You okay?”

Jake nodded, still wide-eyed. “Yeah. Yeah, I just—what the hell was that?” You said nothing. Neither did Jungwon.

But you glanced at each other. For a half-second.

Like a silent handshake.

⸻

Later, on the roof, Sakura said it out loud.

“So you’re teammates now?” You rolled your eyes. “It was one fight.” “You fought like you’d done it fifty times.” She sipped her juice box. “He didn’t even tell you to duck. You just knew.” You looked at the sky.

“I don’t know what it is,” you admitted. “But when we’re fighting, it makes sense.” Sakura was quiet for a beat.

Then she said, “That scares me more than anything else you’ve done.” You didn’t argue.

Because deep down—you knew she was right.

⸻

That night, as you rinsed blood from your hands in the school bathroom, Jungwon appeared behind you in the mirror.

You didn’t jump.

“Thanks,” you said again.

He leaned against the sink next to yours.

“You took the chain hit for Jake,” he said. “Didn’t have to.” “You showed up without being asked.” He nodded once.

Then, voice quiet, he said: “No one fights alone. Not anymore.” You stared at your reflection.

Then at him.

He was watching you like he saw through the cuts. Past the bandages.

“I didn’t think I needed anyone,” you murmured.

“You didn’t,” he said. “But now you have me.” You didn’t reply.

But when he walked you home again, you didn’t ask him why.

And when he lingered at your door, silent and steady, you didn’t tell him to go.

You just stood there.

Not speaking.

And for now — that was enough.

__________

He showed up again.

Not during a fight. Not after school. Not because someone screamed, or you were bleeding, or the hallways reeked of danger. He showed up in the most ordinary place: the corner convenience store three blocks from your apartment, where the fluorescent lights flickered and the old clerk snored behind the counter.

You were holding a pack of ramen in one hand and a grape-flavored Chilsung Cider in the other. He was standing in front of the refrigerated section, reaching for a yogurt drink. The same kind Sakura always gave you after fights. The same kind he offered you once, in silence.

You froze.

He didn’t.

Just looked at you. Blinked once.

Then said, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.” You stared at him, unsure what to say.

“I live close by,” you offered.

He nodded. “Me too.”

Silence stretched.

Finally, you said, “You came all this way for a yogurt drink?” He cracked the faintest smile. “I was hoping for something better.” You glanced at the freezer. “Not much luck.” He tilted his head. “You eating tonight?” You blinked. “Is that a threat?” “It’s a question.”

You paused.

Then, after a breath, you held up the ramen packet. “Kinda.” Jungwon looked at it. Then at you.

“You should eat real food.” You raised an eyebrow. “You offering?” He didn’t hesitate. “Yeah.” ⸻

You followed him through back alleys and narrow roads until you reached a tiny hole-in-the-wall noodle shop lit by a single red sign. It smelled like garlic and grease and too many late nights. He nodded toward a booth near the back, and you slid in without a word.

He ordered. You didn’t ask how he knew your preference. Maybe he didn’t. Maybe he just guessed. Maybe he just paid attention.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward. Just new.

When the food came, you didn’t speak for a while. You ate. He ate. Occasionally, you both reached for water at the same time and your fingers brushed.

Neither of you pulled back.

It wasn’t a date.

It wasn’t anything.

But it was… something.

⸻

Halfway through the bowl, you said it.

“I don’t fight for power.” Jungwon looked up.

“I don’t fight for status. Or because I want to be feared.” You poked at your noodles. “I fight because no one else ever did.” He didn’t speak. Just listened.

You breathed slowly. “When I was thirteen, someone broke into our apartment. My mom didn’t come home that night. My neighbor said she was out with her boyfriend. I waited six hours on the fire escape. No one came.” You swallowed.

“That’s the first time I hit someone. Some drunk guy on the stairwell. He grabbed me, and I— I just snapped.” You didn’t know why you were telling him this.

You didn’t even know what made it come out.

Jungwon didn’t interrupt. Didn’t shift. Just let you talk.

“I never wanted to be this person,” you muttered. “But if I’m not hard, I get crushed.” He set down his chopsticks.

“You’re not hard,” he said softly.

You blinked.

“You’re solid. There’s a difference.” You stared at him.

“You know how many people at Eunjang fight to be feared?” he asked. “How many of them would’ve left that little girl at the fence?” You looked away.

“You didn’t.”

He leaned forward slightly.

“That’s not weakness.” ⸻

After dinner, you walked side by side. Not touching. Not talking much. But walking close enough that your shoulders almost brushed.

When you reached your building, he didn’t stop.

He walked you all the way to your door again.

You turned to him. “You do this for all your fighters?” He raised an eyebrow. “You think you’re just another fighter?” You didn’t know how to answer that.

He stepped closer.

Not threatening.

Just close.

Then, softly:

“You asked me why I always show up at the end.” You nodded.

His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“It’s not because I don’t care,” he said. “It’s because I do. And I don’t know how to stop.” You froze.

He stepped back.

“See you tomorrow.”

And this time—this time when he left—you didn’t feel cold.

You felt seen.

And that was almost worse.

___________

It started with a note in Sakura’s locker.

No name. No handwriting. Just a piece of folded paper with one line scratched into it: “If you want to keep her safe, come to the gym after final bell.” She found it during lunch and showed it to you without a word. You both stood in the stairwell behind the science wing, your backs to the door, trying not to let anyone hear your breathing change.

“Is this about Eunchae?” Sakura asked.

You shook your head.

“No,” you said quietly. “It’s about you.” ⸻

She went anyway.

Of course she did.

Told you to stay out of it. Told you she’d be fine. Told you she wasn’t stupid.

You followed anyway.

Of course you did.

The gym was locked. Dark. You broke in through the equipment room. Moved fast. Quiet. Steps practiced from a hundred nights of not getting caught.

You found her behind the bleachers.

Blood on her shirt.

Her arm bent wrong.

Eyes open, dazed. Breathing shallow.

And you—just for a second—you froze.

Because it wasn’t like before.

This time, you hadn’t been there fast enough.

This time, you hadn’t protected her.

⸻

The hospital was too white. Too quiet. Too still.

Jake sat beside you in the waiting room. His hoodie was stained with Sakura’s blood. He hadn’t spoken since the ambulance. Neither had you.

Yunjin came in twenty minutes later, phone still in her hand, eyes burning.

“I found them,” she said. “The guys who jumped her. They weren’t from here.” You looked up.

She met your gaze. “They came from Daechang. You know what that means.” You nodded.

A trap. A hit. A message.

But not for Sakura.

For you.

“Someone hired them,” you said.

“Yeah.” Yunjin’s voice was tight. “And we both know who.” Jungwon.

⸻

You didn’t go to school the next day.

You went to the underpass.

Where the street kids passed messages. Where the broken bikes rusted in piles. Where the crew rats watched from the shadows like twitchy, wide-eyed ghosts.

You didn’t ask questions.

You just waited.

And eventually, he came.

Jungwon.

Alone. Hoodie up. Hands in pockets. Same as always.

He stopped ten feet away.

You didn’t move.

“You think I did this,” he said.

You didn’t answer.

“I didn’t,” he added. “You know I didn’t.” You swallowed. “But you let it happen.” His jaw clenched. “No.” “You knew someone was coming for me.” “I suspected.”

“And you said nothing.” He stepped closer. Slowly. Carefully.

“Because I knew you’d go,” he said. “Even if I told you. Even if I warned you. You’d run straight into it.” “I would’ve brought her with me,” you said, voice breaking. “I would’ve made sure she didn’t—” “I told you,” he said, louder now, “I told you this was what happens when you fight without backup.” You stared at him.

“You think I don’t care?” he said. “You think I haven’t been following you for weeks? Watching every alley? Every roof? You think I’m just some cold bastard waiting to see you bleed?” You said nothing.

“Then say it,” he snapped. “Tell me I don’t care.” You opened your mouth.

Closed it again.

Then, quietly:

“I don’t know what you are to me yet.” That stopped him.

He breathed out, once. Shaky.

You looked away. “But I know what she is.” And that was the end of it.

⸻

That night, you went alone.

To Daechang territory.

They were waiting.

Three of them. Older. Taller. Tired of Eunjang rats messing up their peace.

You didn’t get the jump.

You got jumped.

Your ribs took the first hit. Then your jaw. Then the back of your skull.

You tasted iron.

Fell hard.

Everything swam.

You fought like a cornered animal — not clean, not tactical. Just wild. Desperate. Clawing and screaming.

One guy went down.

Another cut your shoulder open.

You were on the ground when the boot came down.

And stopped.

Mid-air.

Jungwon.

You didn’t see him arrive.

But suddenly the air cracked with violence.

His elbow connected with someone’s chin. He took the second guy down with a sweep kick. Grabbed the one who cut you and slammed him so hard into the wall that you heard plaster break.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t look at you.

Just fought.

And when it was over—when they were all on the ground, groaning, bleeding—he turned to you.

Dropped to his knees.

And said, low and furious, “What the hell were you thinking?” “I had to,” you gasped.

“No, you didn’t.” He touched your side. You flinched.

“Don’t,” you whispered.

“Let me see.”

“Jungwon—”

“Let me see.”

You exhaled and moved your hand.

His face tightened.

“Hospital?” you asked weakly.

“No.”

“Why not?”

He met your eyes.

“Because I’m not leaving you again.” And the way he said it—it sounded like a promise.

Or a confession.

Or maybe both.

________

You weren’t supposed to be in his room.

You weren’t supposed to be sitting on his bed with your thigh pressed to his, your shirt soaked in blood from the shoulder he just stitched up, your breath still uneven from the ambush and the rage and the way he screamed at you for going alone.

You weren’t supposed to want him like this — not when everything still ached. Not when the city still smelled like blood. Not when you could still feel Sakura’s hand slipping from yours in the gym.

But here you were.

And his fingers were on your ribs. Barely brushing. Like he was trying to memorize every bruise.

“You never stop,” he whispered. His voice was low. Rough. Like something uncoiling in his throat. “Even when you should.” You didn’t respond.

You couldn’t.

Because his hand was sliding up.

Flat palm. Slow drag. Over your side, your bandages, the edge of your ribs where your tank top had ridden up.

You should’ve stopped him.

You didn’t.

Your breath hitched.

He looked at you.

And everything shifted.

The silence wasn’t empty anymore — it was full of it. The tension. The heat. The way you’d spent weeks pretending you didn’t notice his eyes on you. The way he always showed up. The way your skin sparked when he was near. The way your body now ached for something that had nothing to do with bruises.

His hand paused on your waist.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Jungwon—” He leaned in.

Not fast.

Not rough.

Just intentional.

And when his lips brushed yours — just barely, just enough — it felt like someone had ripped your spine out and set it on fire.

You whimpered.

He caught it in his mouth.

And then you were kissing.

Hard.

Teeth. Tongue. Jaw clenched. Mouths open. Hot, messy, breathless.

You straddled him without thinking. Thighs bracketing his hips. His hands flew to your waist, dragging you forward, grinding you down against the bulge already straining in his sweats.

You moaned into his mouth.

He swallowed it. Then groaned — deep and broken — when you rolled your hips.

“You wanna pretend I don’t exist?” he gasped, lips against your jaw. “That you don’t need me?” You gripped his hair. Yanked his head back. “Shut up.” He smirked.

Then sucked a bruise into your neck so hard your thighs clenched around him.

“You don’t get to pretend now,” he growled. “Not when you’re soaking through your fucking underwear for me.” You gasped — sharp and needy — and shoved your hips forward again. His hands flew to your ass, grabbing you hard, grinding you down over him. The friction sent a jolt of white-hot pressure between your legs.

You moaned. Loud.

He loved it.

“Say it,” he murmured, dragging his mouth down your throat, licking the skin. “Say you want me.” You hissed through your teeth. “You already fucking know.” “I wanna hear you say it.” He bit your collarbone.

You gasped again, nails digging into his back.

“I want you,” you breathed. “I want your mouth, your hands, your cock—everything.” He growled.

And then your shirt was gone.

Torn over your head. Tossed somewhere on the floor.

His mouth found your chest. Hot. Desperate. He bit down just above your bra — then licked the mark he left, slow and messy.

“Fuck,” you choked. “Jungwon—” He looked up, eyes wild, voice wrecked.

“You’re not leaving this room until I make you cum begging.”

_______

You didn’t remember falling back.

But your spine hit the mattress, and his weight followed. Not crushing — grounding. He hovered over you, one arm braced beside your head, the other sliding slow, so slow, down the line of your stomach.

Your skin burned.

His eyes dragged across your body like he was seeing something sacred. Like this—you—was something he hadn’t let himself want until now. Until he saw you broken and bloody and still choosing to fight.

“I’ve wanted to touch you since the first time you spat blood and smiled,” he whispered, voice low, full of gravel. “Didn’t think I’d deserve to.” You trembled under him.

His hand slid lower.

Under the waistband of your shorts. Past the band of your underwear.

And then—

“Shit,” he breathed. His eyes fluttered closed. “You’re soaked.” You jerked at the contact, hips lifting on instinct, thighs tightening around his wrist.

His fingers didn’t even move yet—just rested there, against your slit, barely grazing. But it was enough to make you bite your lip to keep from moaning.

He looked down. Smirked.

“Don’t hold back,” he murmured. “I wanna hear all of it.” Then he slid two fingers down your folds — slowly, deliberately — and dragged them back up.

You gasped.

He did it again, a little firmer this time. Then pressed the pads of his fingers just right against your clit. Not rubbing yet — just pressing. Circular. Gentle. Teasing.

Your thighs twitched.

“Fuck—” you breathed.

“There she is,” he murmured, grinning like a goddamn sinner. “Sound so fucking pretty when you’re desperate.” You whimpered. Arching. Your hips started grinding into his hand on their own — small, needy movements, trying to find friction.

He let you.

Watched you.

Then, slowly, he curled two fingers and dipped them down, pushing them gently into your heat — not deep, just enough to slide between your folds, coating them in slick.

Then he rubbed.

Right over your clit.

Back and forth. Circles. Pressure that made your legs shake and your mouth fall open.

“Jungwon—fuck—please—”

His eyes darkened.

“Please what?”

You could barely breathe. Your body was clenching, grinding, needing.

“Please touch me—don’t stop—” He growled.

And then he slipped one finger inside you.

Your mouth dropped open in a silent moan.

“God, you’re tight,” he hissed. “Warm, soaking wet, fucking gripping me—” He curled it.

You screamed.

Not loud. But real. From your gut. From everything that had been clenched and locked and buried inside you for weeks.

He kissed you. Messy. Tongue deep. Swallowing every sound as he slid his finger in and out, slow and wet, curling it every time he found that spot that made your hips jerk.

You were panting. Writhing. Drenched.

He slipped in another finger.

You gasped—sharp, raw, helpless.

“Too much?” he whispered, voice low against your jaw.

“No,” you breathed. “More.” He gave it to you.

Two fingers, fucking into you slowly, then faster, then curling so deep you saw stars.

His palm rubbed against your clit with every thrust.

Your body was shaking.

And when he leaned down, brushed his lips over your ear, and said: “Cum for me like this. Just on my fingers—just from this.” You did.

You broke.

Moaning. Clenching. Crying his name like it was the only thing you knew.

And when you came, he kept going.

Kept rubbing. Kept fucking you through it.

You begged. Pleaded. Tried to push his hand away.

He pinned your thighs open and whispered, “Not done.” And you knew—

You’d never be the same again.

________

You were still trembling.

Your thighs wouldn’t stop shaking, your chest rising and falling in ragged waves, lips parted as he pulled his soaked fingers from you slowly — dragging your slick out in a thick, wet trail that clung to his skin.

He stared down at it like it was something holy.

Then he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked.

Licked them clean.

“Fucking sweet,” he growled. “I could taste you for days.” You moaned, heat pulsing low and deep between your legs, your pussy clenching around nothing now, desperate and soaked and aching for more.

He leaned down. Kissed you again.

Slower this time. Hot. Deep. Tongue sliding into your mouth while his hand cupped your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek like he was trying to anchor you there. Like if he touched you soft enough, maybe you wouldn’t disappear.

“Still okay?” he whispered, lips ghosting over your skin.

You nodded, eyes blown wide. “Need you.” “Yeah?” His voice cracked. “How bad?” You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinding up. Feeling how hard he was against your soaked core.

“Bad enough I can’t think straight,” you whispered. “Bad enough I want you to fuck the fight out of me.” That broke something in him.

He reached down, shoved his sweats low enough to free his cock, and it hit your thigh — hot, heavy, thick. Your breath caught the second it slid against your folds. He grabbed the base, hissing softly, and stroked it through your slick, dragging the tip over your clit before nudging it lower, teasing your entrance.

Your hips lifted—chasing it. Chasing him.

He didn’t push in yet.

He hovered.

Pressed the head right there, right at your hole, just enough to feel your body twitch.

“You want this?” he rasped. “Say it.” “Want your cock,” you begged. “Please, Jungwon—fuck me.” That was it.

He slid in with one long, slow, filthy thrust.

You cried out — loud, raw, almost overwhelmed — as he stretched you open, inch by inch, so deep you could feel him in your belly. The pressure was unbearable. Addictive. Your walls clenched around him like you didn’t want to let go.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped. “You’re so tight—fuck, you’re gripping me.” You couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe. His cock filled you in a way nothing ever had — thick, deep, perfect. He bottomed out with a groan, forehead falling to yours, chest shuddering.

“Been dreaming about this,” he whispered. “Fucking dreaming about being inside you.” You were already shaking again.

And then—

He moved.

Pulled back, slow and heavy, just until the tip kissed your entrance — then slammed back in.

You screamed.

The sound tore from your throat as he started fucking you in deep, hard thrusts that rocked the bed. Every drag of his cock lit your nerves on fire. He angled his hips, searching for that spot — and when he found it, you arched.

“There,” you choked. “Fuck—there—” He locked in.

And didn’t stop.

Slamming into that spot again and again, watching you fall apart, gripping your hips to keep you right where he wanted you.

“You gonna cum again?” he panted. “You gonna cum all over my cock, baby?” “Yes—fuck—yes, please—”

He grabbed your thighs, pushed them up, folded you in half, fucked into you with every ounce of frustration and need he’d buried for weeks.

“You’re mine now,” he growled. “You hear me? No more going into fights alone. No more pretending you don’t need anyone.” You sobbed. “I’m yours.”

“Say it again.”

“I’m—fuck—I’m yours, Jungwon—”

You came hard.

Clenching. Crying. Writhing underneath him while he groaned and fucked you through it.

And when he followed — hips jerking, breath breaking, cock pulsing as he emptied inside you — he said your name like it meant something.

Like it was the only thing he had left.

________

The room was quiet again.

Not like before.

This silence wasn’t tense or heavy. It was soft. The kind that settles into your bones after everything has been ripped open. The kind that wraps around you like a blanket when your guard finally drops and you realize—for the first time in a long time—you’re safe.

Jungwon was still inside you.

His cock softening slowly, body pressed close, skin slick with sweat. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, still racing, still wild. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even tried to. He was just holding you. Breathing with you.

And you—your hands were still trembling.

Not from fear.

From relief.

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder.

Then your collarbone.

Then the corner of your mouth, gentle and lingering.

“You okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

You nodded, slow.

He pulled out carefully, eyes on your face the entire time, watching for any wince, any shift in your breath. You whimpered—soft, overstimulated—and he kissed your forehead.

“Got you,” he murmured. “I got you.” He got up, disappeared for a moment, and came back with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you slowly. Tenderly. Like you were made of something rare. He wiped between your thighs, over your swollen lips, across your belly where his hands had gripped too hard.

“I didn’t hurt you?” he asked softly.

You shook your head. “No. Not even close.” He smiled then—small, real.

When he tossed the cloth away and slid back into bed beside you, you expected him to keep space. He didn’t. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. Bare skin to bare skin. Your head tucked under his chin. Your leg thrown over his.

He was so warm.

So solid.

You didn’t even realize you’d started crying until his hand was brushing tears from your cheeks.

“Why are you—” he started, but stopped.

Because he knew.

He didn’t ask again.

Just held you tighter. Let you bury your face in his chest. Let you break a little. Because he knew that in all the fights, all the pain, all the moments you swore you didn’t need anyone—this was the part you never let yourself have.

He kissed the top of your head.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. “Not after this. Not ever.” You didn’t say anything.

But your fingers curled around his.

And he understood.

You’d never be alone in a fight again.

Not when he was here.

Not when he’d already carved your name into his chest and called it home.

———

You knew it was a setup the second you heard Eunchae scream again.

This time it wasn’t by surprise. Not the kind that comes from getting grabbed or tripped or shoved. No — this one was louder. Sharper. Ripped from the throat.

Luring.

Your body moved before your brain did.

You grabbed your jacket off the chair, yanked open Jungwon’s front door, and took the stairs two at a time, boots hitting concrete like gunshots. Sakura was still asleep on the couch, bruised and healing. Jake had gone to get food. You were supposed to be safe. Resting. Letting your ribs and wrists and the inside of your thighs recover.

But they knew how to get to you now.

They didn’t need to find you.

They just needed to find the people you cared about.

⸻

The rooftop was empty when you got there.

Too empty.

No Eunchae. No bodies. Just wind, sharp and cold, biting across the metal railings and faded paint. You didn’t stop. You turned on instinct, already heading back toward the stairwell when the door slammed shut behind you.

Then came the laugh.

Low. Crooked. Not familiar.

But you recognized the tone.

The same kind all cocky boys used before they bled.

“So you’re the one who fucked Eunjang’s ice king,” the voice drawled. “Didn’t think you’d be so easy to bait.” You didn’t wait for him to finish.

You launched forward, fist already flying.

⸻

He was stronger than expected.

Older, too.

One of the Daechang holdovers. Hired muscle. Probably paid off by someone who still wanted Jungwon’s grip on the school broken.

He took the first hit.

Dodged the second.

Laughed when you clipped his jaw.

Then his foot caught your ankle.

You hit the ground hard.

Your ribs screamed.

So did you.

⸻

There were four of them total.

They didn’t come all at once. They didn’t need to. They circled. Took turns. One cracked your shoulder. Another stomped the side of your knee. You got a few hits in. Good ones. You heard a nose break. Felt a wrist twist under your grip.

But you were already bleeding.

Already slowed.

You reached for the railing. Tried to get up.

A boot caught your side.

And this time—you didn’t.

⸻

“Was hoping for a little more fight,” one of them sneered, wiping blood from his cheek. “Guess all that attitude was just for show.” You tried to speak.

All that came out was a broken breath.

“Gonna send a little message back to your boyfriend,” he said, crouching beside you. “Let him know his girl bleeds just like everyone else.” He raised a fist.

And then—

Jungwon hit him so hard he flew sideways.

⸻

You didn’t even hear him come in.

One second you were on the ground.

The next, someone was screaming, and it wasn’t you anymore.

Jungwon was on him—crushing him—his fists a blur, a storm, an earthquake made of skin and rage and love. His knuckles split open on impact. He didn’t stop. He didn’t fucking stop.

Another boy came from behind— Jungwon turned.

Blocked. Countered.

Elbow to the nose.

Knee to the ribs.

Then he grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him into the rooftop tiles hard enough to knock him out cold.

You tried to sit up.

Failed.

Blood in your mouth. In your eyes.

Then—

Arms. Around you.

Hands on your waist. On your face.

“*Y/N—hey—*fuck—stay with me—” You blinked through the blur.

He was kneeling beside you, covered in blood—some of it his, most of it not.

He cupped your face gently.

Cradled it like it might break.

“I told you,” he whispered, voice shaking, “I told you I wasn’t leaving you again.” Your lips trembled. “You came.” “Of course I came.”

You reached up. Touched his face.

“I thought I was gonna die.” He laughed—wrecked, raw, real. “No. No, baby. Not tonight.” He picked you up.

Carried you down.

Every stair was fire. You didn’t care.

You didn’t look back.

⸻

The nurse on the fourth floor of the clinic didn’t ask questions.

Neither did Jake when he showed up with his jacket soaked in sweat, breath ragged. He looked at you on the table, eyes wide, and then just sank down to the floor with his head in his hands.

Yunjin came twenty minutes later.

Sakura followed.

Eunchae burst into tears the second she saw you.

You smiled through a split lip.

“Not dead yet.”

⸻

That night, in Jungwon’s room, you curled into his chest.

Your body ached in places you didn’t know existed.

But your heart—your heart was quiet.

Not calm.

Just held.

Then he whispered, right against your hair: “I’ve loved you since the moment you refused to flinch.” You looked up.

His eyes were glassy. Bleeding with everything he didn’t say.

You leaned in.

Kissed him soft.

And said, “I love you.”

_______

The school didn’t go quiet.

Nothing ever did.

There were still fights. Still rival crews. Still lockers that slammed too loud and stairs that echoed with threats. The halls still smelled like sweat and rust, and someone was always waiting to see who would bleed next.

But they didn’t come near you.

Not anymore.

Because now when you walked through the courtyard — bag slung over one shoulder, bruises healing slow, knuckles still taped for safety — he was at your side.

Jungwon.

Hands in his pockets.

Eyes sharp.

But not cold anymore.

Not when he looked at you.

And that was enough.

⸻

People whispered.

They always did.

Not just about the way you moved now — together, always — like a unit sharpened by violence and fused by something deeper. But about what had changed. Why the fights had stopped the second Jungwon dragged four unconscious Daechang boys into the middle of the gym lobby and dropped them at the teachers’ feet.

“Anyone else wanna touch what’s mine?” he’d said.

You weren’t there when he said it.

You were in the clinic.

But the story made its way to you by nightfall.

You didn’t correct it.

Because it was true.

You were his.

But he was yours too.

⸻

Sakura healed.

Slowly. But fully.

She still rolled her eyes every time she caught you two making out against the stairwell wall, but she also smiled a little too hard afterward. Jake started bringing you snacks every morning, grumbling like he hated being the group’s emotional support, but never missing a beat. Eunchae followed you like a shadow again, less afraid now, more proud.

“Can I punch someone next time?” she asked one afternoon.

You and Jungwon both answered at once.

“No.”

She pouted.

You ruffled her hair.

⸻

You were back on the rooftop when it happened.

End of a long day.

Backs to the water tank. His jacket wrapped around your shoulders. Your fingers laced in his hoodie drawstrings. The sunset burned red across the horizon — same color as dried blood, but softer now. Warmer. Something earned.

He looked at you.

Really looked.

Not like he was waiting for you to break.

Not like you were something he had to protect.

But like you were his equal.

Like you were the one he would trust to hold the line beside him.

“I used to think,” he said slowly, “that if I didn’t keep my distance, I’d lose everything I built.” You didn’t speak.

Just waited.

“But then you walked in like a fire I couldn’t stop,” he whispered. “And I let it burn me.” Your breath caught.

He reached over.

Brushed his knuckles over your cheek.

“You taught me that soft isn’t weak.” You swallowed. “And you taught me I don’t have to fight alone.” Then he leaned in.

And kissed you.

Not rough. Not desperate.

Just right.

Like everything you’d been bleeding for had led to this.

⸻

Later, when the sun dipped and the stars showed up quiet and late, you lay with your head on his shoulder, legs tangled.

“What now?” you asked.

He didn’t answer right away.

Just breathed.

Then said:

“Now we fight smarter. Together. For us. For them. For peace, if we can earn it.” You looked up.

“You think we can?” He met your eyes.

“I think bruised things still beat.” You smiled.

And this time, you believed it.

___________

THANK YOU FOR READING!!! PLS REBLOG AND COMMENT

[hoonieangel]

so good!! loser sunghoon is favorite sunghoon

♯┆ERROR 404 .ᐟ word limit reached. ᡣ𐭩 박성훈｡

"i promise myself, while drinking a glass of water in the morning, to tell you. i'll confess what has been on the tip of my tongue tomorrow. you are pretty." — pretty u by seventeen.

୨ pairing ୧ : park sunghoon x fem!reader.

୨ synopsis ୧ : he wouldn't necessarily call himself talkative. sunghoon is just a normal college boy with normal hobbies and interests, so of course he likes talking about those, and he especially likes talking about you— but talking to you? it's an entirely different challenge. and he knows he has to man up and speak up before you get sick of his silence.

୨ genres ୧ : college!au, classmates!au, slow burn-ish, strangers to lovers, lowkey loser!sunghoon, romance, very fluffy, light angst, but a whole lot more comfort, a bit of jealousy, sunghoon is a stupid dumb idiot lover boy. ✮ featuring: enhypen's 02z + heeseung, ive's gaeul and liz, and seventeen's jeonghan. ୨ warnings ୧ : suggestive content, making out, swearing, pet names, alcohol consumption, parties, brief mentions of blood, unintentional self injury, poor attempts at humor, sunghoon is kind of emotionally constipated but in a good way. sunghoon's taller than reader. lmk if i missed anything!

୨ word count ୧ : 18.3k words.┆read the teaser here.

୨ from ! 🐰 yan ୧ : my first written work !! i normally write smaus so writing a full oneshot has been daunting. this is my literal brain child so i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i would love to get feedback via asks/replies !! (pls be nice) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏  ✾  𝙍𝙀𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙎 are appreciated.

TODAY MARKED THE FIRST DAY OF YOUR FOUR YEARS IN COLLEGE. you walked past your university’s gates, chin tipped up and proud with a book held close to your chest, thin silver glasses framing your face, and a smile that you spent an entire hour practicing in the mirror yesterday. 

you wore the best outfit you could, but not in a trying-hard overdressed kind of way, just enough effort to make you memorable. you wanted to make a good impression, after all. 

if you could look lost enough, maybe a senior would notice you. maybe he’d ask for your schedule, walk you to class, make light gossip about the professors you have and in a few years, he’d propose to you in the same spot by the gates, and you’d say i do, and live a happy married lif—

clank!

you get snapped out of your sweet little daydream as pain shoots through your shoulder, down your left arm. “fuck.” you whisper, head snapping up to shoot a frustrated glare at the thick pole in front as if it’s the one who bumped into you.

the impact was hard enough to have your book and glasses falling to the floor with a thud, and definitely hard enough to leave a bruise tomorrow because even merely moving your arm makes you wince. 

thankfully, the area was mostly empty— which meant your dream of being a college cool girl was still in play —save for a tall guy just a foot beside you. 

shit. 

he’s already kneeling down to pick your things up and before you could even bend over to help, he just looks up and gestures to you to stay still by pointing to your outfit. “skirt.” is all he says, his voice deep and quiet.

you’d normally blush at the gentlemanly gesture but instead, you do it out of pure embarrassment. 

god, this wasn’t the meet-cute you imagined. 

he hands you back your book and your glasses, freshly wiped of dirt from the hem of his faded black hoodie. you slip it on your face again and bow your head out of shame, stepping aside to escape this nightmare of an embarrassment, but before you could even attempt to, he tugs on the sleeve of your cardigan, showing you his open palm like he's telling you to stop.

and against your better judgement, you do. 

the stranger slips one of his backpack’s straps off his shoulder, fishing a box out of it and begins scribbling away with a pen cap trapped between his teeth.

you took this time to look at him— really look at him. tall, lean physique, sharp features, fair skin. he wore a pair of black thick-rimmed glasses that framed his kind-looking eyes really well. he’s stylish, no question about that.

and painfully handsome, too.

the pen is closed with a faint click and he slips it back into his hoodie’s pocket and you take that as a sign to stop checking him out lest you embarrass yourself further.

his lips purse into a straight line and his thick eyebrows furrow closer as he gives the box an intense stare, the soft eyes from a while ago turning more serious and stressed as it turns to you, back to the box, and back to you again.

the suffocating silence is shattered by two men shouting from a distance, the shorter one of them comically jumping and waving his hands in the air.

he turns to look at the source of the noise and lets out a small grunt, handing you the box and before jogging away without another word.

you stand there dumbstruck, watching the three boys interact for a while before turning on your heels, slipping the box between your chest and the book. that was odd. 

you walk to class with a sore shoulder and cheeks that still feel warm from the whole ordeal. upon finding your room, new faces give you polite smiles or nods of acknowledgement and you do the same. once you're seated and settled, you put the book down on top of your desk.

the forgotten box falls on your lap, urging you to take a closer look at it. 

menthol pain relief patches. 

you flip the box around and you're greeted by a pastel yellow post-it note stuck on the back.

“for your shoulder. please be careful next time.” 

he probably thinks you're a loser with no depth perception. and he wouldn't be wrong for thinking that, but it doesn't stop your cheeks from heating up for the nth time this morning.

you convince yourself it's okay. that your university is big, and you surely you won't meet him again. the fact disappoints you a little bit, but at least you're saved from having to face him after what happened.

you press your fingers against your forehead in stress.

first day in and you’ve already made a fool of yourself in front of a man. not just any man but a handsome one. a very important distinction. 

developing a crush feels on him feels pathetic. he just gave you muscle relief patches, an act of kindness that was just a little bit above the bare minimum. and he only said one word to you, for gods’ sake. but you’ve never been one to think logically, so while your lecture starts, your head starts drifting off and it’s already incorporating the good-looking, tall stranger in your romantic fantasies.

turns out, the man in your dreams wouldn’t be a senior, nor would he be gossiping with you about your professors.

instead, you’d be sharing them. 

during your third class of the day, the handsome stranger walks in the lecture hall with his two friends in tow and you immediately recognize him because of the glasses. his hands are stuffed into his hoodie as he settles on a seat a couple of rows in front of you, still as intimidating as he looked like when he gave you the box.

you learned of his name when the professor called him to read a passage in the book. 

park sunghoon. 

you think it’s a pretty name— fitting for a pretty boy like him.

sunghoon’s voice was steady while he read, smoothly pronouncing every word, clearing his throat after a mistake and resuming with the same composure. the speed at which he spoke was just right, slow enough to enunciate every syllable but not too much to bore whoever chose to listen.

"mr. park, care to share your thoughts on what you just read?"

sunghoon only stood straighter, his natural confidence in his voice making you swoon in your seat.

“i don't believe the fable's moral lesson to necessarily be applicable in real life where businesses and industries have become fast-paced. should the readers need to have a takeaway, they should focus on what the hare lacked— humility. his over-confidence is the ultimate reason for his downfall, being a creature that has already been given natural talent and an advantage on the terrain—” 

just like that, your small happy crush turned into full-blown attraction. his voice? his eloquence? damn. it’s like he’s trying (and succeeding) to make you want him.

you wish you had sat in front so you could look at him more. you could only imagine how stern he’d look, how his thick brows would meet together making him look even more gorgeous when he’s focused. but for now, you could settle for the view of his back while trying your best to listen to your professor, and not to the voice that suspiciously resembles sunghoon's playing in a constant loop inside your head. 

he’s in the rest of your classes today too, which makes the task of focusing twice as hard. you feel like a creep with the way your eyes naturally gravitate to him every time you hear his voice, or when you see a tiny bit of movement from the corner of your eye. 

so when it’s almost time to go home, you do the most un-creepy thing you can think of: wait outside the door. 

a student, and another, they all step out one by one. then he finally walks out, laughing at something his friend said before freezing mid-sentence as he catches sight of you standing with a familiar box laid out on your palm.

he looked surprised for a moment, before gripping on the single strap hanging on his shoulder, shifting uncomfortably before raising a brow like he was waiting for you to speak. 

“oh! i, uh.. i already put some on my shoulder and on my arm a while ago. there’s too much in the pack and i figured i could give it back to you since i don’t really have any use for it.” you explain, pushing it towards him. 

one of his friends gasps at the sight, quickly throwing a punch to sunghoon’s shoulder which he receives with a quiet hiss.

“what the fuck, hoon? i was looking for that! you know i have try-outs later!” the boy shouts, his australian accent thick and evident as he snatches the pack from your palm. “tch, can’t believe you lied to me.”

sunghoon gives him a cold stare, taking the patches away again before whispering something to the other boy which resulted in the rowdy blonde getting dragged away by his collar. he flipped the box over once, twice, and raised an eyebrow, seeming to notice that the post-it note was not there anymore. 

“is this what you’re looking for?” taking the neatly folded paper from your pocket, you place it on top of the box. “i’m sorry for taking it. i thought it was for me. unless you also have other friends who regularly bump into poles while actively daydreaming and you actually meant to give that to someone els—” 

sunghoon cuts you off with his index finger pressed on his own lips. he gives both back to you before flashing you a small smile, one that causes your poor little heart to thump faster.

“for you. keep it.” his words are clipped but you can feel the kindness behind them. 

say something, anything, to keep the conversation going. 

“i’m y/n, by the way.” you hold your hand out.

“i know. i’m sunghoon.” he murmurs, looking at the hand extended towards him before shaking it.

you sense the slight hesitation but the contact makes you giddy nonetheless. it’s as sweet as it is short lived because sunghoon quickly lets go, hands returning to the safety of his hoodie’s pocket. 

“huh? how’d you know? i don’t remember the professor calling me. wait- did he take attendance? shit, i forgot to say present—” 

the chuckle he lets out is low and breathy, making the words halt in your mouth. sunghoon shakes his head and his eyes do a quick scan of you before pointing to the small sticker that reads 'yoon y/n's!' on the book you've been holding.

"oh."

another beat of awkward silence.

“uh.. what’s your schedule?” you ask with a kind smile, following sunghoon as he starts walking towards your building's exit, trying not to dwell on how he started walking slower, at the perfect pace for you to keep up with his long strides. 

he fishes for his phone to show you the picture and you do the same, eyes looking at your screen then his. “we share most classes! all the ones in the afternoon.” you smile victoriously, and sunghoon releases another quiet chuckle, nodding along.

before you know it, you’ve reached the gate where his friends are waiting. he pauses, squinting his eyes at the duo who suddenly stopped talking to look between you and him, teasing grins plastered on their faces which just made sunghoon rub his temple.

“oh? who is this? a new friend?” the black-haired friend asks, a smirk on his lips while raising an eyebrow at sunghoon. 

“y/n.” sunghoon says, pointing to you. “jake.” he points to the blonde boy with an aussie accent, before turning to the tanner friend with a jawline so sharp you’re convinced you’d need more than menthol patches if you touched it. “jay.” 

sunghoon must have told them about what happened this morning because they looked at you, eyes scanning you up and down with anflash of amusement showing in their eyes. 

“hi.” you give them a shy wave and they return it with a welcoming smile, their hands gently shaking yours.

jake pulls sunghoon away, huddling on one side while whispering, their heads occasionally turning to you every now and then with synchronicity.

“what do you mean that’s her?”

“jake, pipe the fuck down!”

“are they… talking about me?” you turn to jay with raised eyebrows and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's grown familiar to this scenario. “looks like it. please forgive jake. he’s normally more… discreet when he’s curious about someone.” 

yeah, there’s nothing discreet about jake pointing his finger at you with a wide smile. sunghoon, on the other hand, is insistent on pushing jake's hand down with a pretty pink flush on his cheeks, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. very cute.

“do you guys share all your classes?” 

“yeah, we share an apartment so we were together when we chose our classes.”

“so i’d take it that you guys are close?” 

jay gives you a nod, eyes fond while he looks at his best friends. “met in middle school— and we’ve unfortunately been inseparable since then.”

“that's cute. must be nice to have people you can rely on already. college is kinda scary.” 

“you have us!” jake whispers from beside you, making you scream in surprise at his sudden presence. sunghoon shoots him a sharp glare, tugging on your cardigan for the second time today to pull you by his side.

the golden retriever looking boy presses his palms together, whispering a small apology before handing you his phone.

“sunghoon told me you have afternoon classes with us! so you can give me your number and just reach us whenever. not to brag but i’m the most popular in this trio. i'll text you whenever there’s a party. i'll getcha connected to people in no time.” he adds with a wink, pulling a laugh out of you.

“i think i’ll stick to texting you for home work.” you reply with a roll of your eyes, punching your number in jake’s phone nonetheless. 

a few more friendly words are exchanged before they wave you goodbye because jay and jake are going to your college’s basketball try-outs. sunghoon isn’t interested but is supposedly "required by law" to go because he’s their moral support.

you laugh and give both of them a fist bump for good luck before walking away, failing to catch sunghoon’s lingering stare as he watches your figure disappear.

that night, you buried yourself under your duvet, congratulating yourself for surviving your first day of freshman year and making three new friends on top of that.

just then, your phone vibrated.

💬 from: unknown number — this is sunghoon. :)

your friendship with park sunghoon slowly blossomed from that day onward. though your first meeting was full of chaos, the following months were anything but.

much like him, it was calm. respectful, even.

you would give each other a smile when you passed by one another in the mornings, he’d shoot you a text to let you know he reserved the seat next to him when you were running ten minutes late in the afternoon, or you'd remind him of tasks due the next day.

he even offer to accompany you to the university’s library when your friends weren't available, headphones on and only taking it off to tap on your shoulder when he notices you dozing off. 

one day, you asked him to grab lunch with you under the pretense of not having anyone to eat with, and then it became routine.

usually it would be just you and sunghoon but the boys would tag along every now and then. he would be noisier during those lunches, and you relished it because that’s the only time you get to see him be so comfortable and rowdy. 

you pondered what the cause could be, and eventually landed on a theory during one of your sociology classes. 

deindividuation, as your professor called it.

she said being part of a larger group can lead to a sense of reduced personal responsibility and accountability which then causes individuals to feel less inhibited and more likely to engage in behaviors they might not otherwise, including speaking loudly or interrupting.

she basically described sunghoon to a perfect t. 

because your friendship with him is quiet. his half of the friendship, to be specific.

you mostly got to know him through mere observation– his habits, things he enjoyed and things he disliked. if you didn’t discover things yourself, his friends would be the one offering sunghoon's information to you like when jay told you he has a younger sister he adored, or when jake told you that he once wanted to go to antarctica, a dream that he left behind after he took an interest in photography. 

if you were to type out every word he's said to you for the entirety of your friendship in a continuous line, you’d probably be able to fill four pages of a document in arial 11. maybe five.

if you remember correctly, his longest running sentence is “please walk on the inside part of the sidewalk next time, angel— it’s dangerous.” a yet-to-be defeated record of fourteen words. it was also the first time he called you by a pet name and it had you screaming into your pillow as soon as you got home. 

initially, you thought it’d be better to converse with him through text. and it was an improvement, yes– but only by a few notches. you’d be able to make twenty pages with the words he said through the phone, but there were still days where he’d just reply with one word.

or a single emoji. 

but sunghoon isn’t nonchalant. far from it, actually.

he laughs at your jokes— he even giggles when it's done to his type of humor. if he sees you stressing out during a pop quiz, he’d slyly push his paper towards you to let you copy his answers. and he already knows to take his sweater off and hand it to you before history class because the heater doesn’t work well in that classroom. 

almost always, he’d walk out of the classroom with his bag slung on one of his shoulders and yours on the other with the finesse of someone who's used to being reliable. you’ve never had to open your own water bottles or push through doors either because sunghoon would be the one doing it for you. all of that while wearing a proud smile.

and barely any noise.

when you ask him questions, he’d either hum to affirm, shake his head no, or shrug if he didn’t know the answer. if he’s the one asking you questions, he just gestures with his hands or fingers to get his message across.

one morning when you went to class in a new hairstyle, he pointed to it with raised brows. “ah, just wanted to try something new.” you explained. his reply was a smile and a measly thumbs up.

all that to say, he's an acts-of-service rather than a words-of-affirmation type of guy.

you always try to fill that awful silence between the both of you with endless rambles, and like the reliable person he is, he always listens with a hum here and there to let you know that he was still following your story about how your neighbor scared you shitless by trying to open your door in the middle of the night.

"—he shook the knob so hard i had to call an emergency locksmith. it’s literally the second time he did that this week! and he doesn’t even have the decency to pay me back for the fee!”

by the time you end your tirade, you’re slumped over the café’s table, cheeks squished flat on the smooth surface. he just chuckles and taps on your head with a finger and you raise it slightly. sunghoon places a sheet of tissue down and leans back, allowing you to press your face against the table again, but hygienically this time around.

“you care for my skin more than i do.” you grumble, blowing the stray hairs away from your face. 

he does it like it’s routine— because it is. 

the first time you did it, he shook his head in slight disappointment. “you’ll get acne.” he said, voice flat while pointing to his cheeks. so after months of it happening, he learned to always have tissues in his bag just in case you decided you wanted to have another ranting session.

a few minutes pass and you hear him groan before reaching over to show you his watch. two thirty-seven pm. “man. fuck history class.” you sigh, starting to pack up your things while sunghoon's already a few steps past the cafe door.

“hoonie, wait for me!” you whine, running to catch up and he pauses, looking at you over his shoulder.

he only resumes his strides when he hears the familiar taps of your footstep beside him, making him smile to himself as he shoves his hands in his pocket, walking back to class with the cold autumn wind that pushes leaves of gold and orange past his feet. 

this is what he does. if he wanted to go somewhere, he’d guide you to the destination by walking instead of telling. sometimes, because you moved at the pace of a snail, he would need to tug on your shirt or on the end of your jacket to help you keep up.

he never actually touches you. not intentionally. the usual skinship he’d initiate is a tap on your shoulder, or on the back of your hand. if he was feeling extra touchy, the most he’d give is an affectionate pat to your head. 

if you remember correctly, that has only happened seven times so far.

there was also that one time he touched your cheeks for a brief moment, but you don’t think that counts because he only did it to push your head away when jake jokingly leaned towards you with a kissy face. 

“sunghoon!” 

two heads turn around to see heeseung, a sophomore, approaching with a basketball pinned between his hand and hip. he’s a good friend of jake and jay, and by association, sunghoon’s.

“mind if i take him away for a bit?” heeseung asks you, the usual charming smile on his face as he taps on sunghoon’s shoulder. you nod and shoo them away, but not without sunghoon pointing to an empty bench first.

you head over there, one leg crossed over the other as you observe the bright smile on sunghoon’s face. words like “girls” and “after party” are thrown, and you already know it has something to do with the boys’ basketball match this weekend. 

but their words translate more like faint buzzing because you’re too busy dwelling on the way sunghoon interacts with heeseung. it’s something that has been bothering you for a good while— the way he becomes much more animated when he talks to someone. the way sentences don’t sound strained leaving his mouth.

it’s like everyone has access to a button that activates talkative sunghoon. 

everyone else but you. 

the theory of deindividuation didn’t apply to him anymore. maybe it never did.

he wasn’t technically popular, no. he was still an introvert who preferred staying on the sidelines but from what you’ve seen, anyone who was brave enough to go up to him and make friends, he accepted without protest.

weren’t you already friends with him? so why can’t he be like that with you?

your mind reels back to the time you caught him talking to a senior on the way to your next class. they were having a conversation about the cameras he liked and his history with photography, and it made you wonder for a second whether he had an identical twin his friends forgot to tell you about. you could hear the childlike fascination as he talked, voice practically dripping with enthusiasm.  

so when you asked him about cameras later that same day and all you got was a simple 'i like them', it simply broke your heart.

you've spent days thinking about why he couldn’t open up to you the same way he did with others. you’d scroll through your texts with sunghoon and it's always polite. always curt. always “how’s your weekend?” but when you ask him the same question, he’d reply with “just okay.” before turning the conversation to something about you again.

maybe he wasn’t interested in you. not in that way, at least. because why would he? he, who would make people stare whenever you walked the hallways together. he, who made every student in class stop whatever they were doing just to listen to him whenever he recited.

he, who hugged acquaintances yet can’t seem to stand the thought of his hand grazing you, his friend.

it made you overthink whether you truly were a friend to him or just another overzealous classmate forcing your unwanted presence.

you don’t even realize you’ve started tearing up until you see sunghoon kneeling in front of you, eyes full of worry as he looks into your glassy ones.

“angel? w-what’s wrong?” he asks, a hand reaching up but he bites his lips and brings it back down to his side. 

you turn your head to the side and force out a laugh. “where’s heeseung?”

“he left. tell me what’s wrong.” he says, placing a hand on your knee. he doesn’t need to tell you, because you could tell how uncomfortable he was from initiating that simple touch.

“it’s nothing. just… i think some dust got into my eyes.” you rub your eyes with your curled fist, exaggerating a few blinks before you gently push his hand off your knee. not even a second passes and you already miss the warmth of his touch. it's pathetic.

“there. it’s gone now.” you hum, pulling him up by his bag’s strap. “let’s go? mr. shin will kill us if we’re late.”

he looks like he wants to say something. but he doesn’t.

he never does.

instead, he strips off his white hoodie and hands it to you, looking at you with expectant eyes. he just stands there, your bag in his hand with the same expression until you relent and throw his hoodie over your head while rolling your eyes. 

you walk to your history class warm and smelling like a pleasant mix of sunghoon’s cologne and laundry detergent.

your exit plan hasn’t even started yet and you’re already failing. 

three weeks. 

three cruel and agonizing weeks of sunghoon missing your presence. 

he thinks it started that weekend. like heeseung suggested, he texted you an invite to the frat party to celebrate the boys’ win. he never really got a reply but he did see you arrive safely which put him a little more at ease. 

you greeted him with a breathtaking smile and the same little wave he started looking forward to receiving everyday— his biggest motivator to attend and do well in class despite the hell that it is.

you wore a short ivory white dress, blessing him with far more skin than he usually saw within the confines of yours classrooms, your hair done up to show the smooth curves of your neck and the sharp angle of your shoulders.

all he could think about is dirtying your exposed skin with marks so the annoying boys in your class would get the hint to stay away from what's his, and he hated it. you don't even know it but you make something deeply covetous stir inside him.

you’re already beautiful in his eyes, but that night you truly looked like an angel, and he wanted nothing more than to kneel and follow you towards the light. 

jiwon and gaeul snapped him out of his trance by dragging you away to the other side of the house before he can even get a word in, and all sunghoon could do is pray that you don't leave with someone else.

the after party went on. drunk people leaning against the kitchen counter, a random couple sucking each others’ faces off on the recliner by the entrance, and jay crying “foul” when he lost another round of beer pong. for the sixth time. 

sunghoon looked at his phone, brows almost meeting together as he stared at your conversation. still left on read, still no reply, but he decided to send you another one anyway. 

💬 to: angel y/n. — your dress looks nice. :)

“why’s my y/n-ie not here?” jake approached him, red solo cup in hand. 

“first of all: she’s not yours. second: you’re already slurring your words, jaeyun. sober up before we get to the car, i beg. i don’t want my car to smell like vomit again.” sunghoon grunted, trying to push the boy off as jake leaned against him for support, face pressed on his shoulder while whining about how much he wanted to see you. 

“why? you gonna try to kiss her again?”

“if it’ll annoy you. like it always does.” jake snaps back, a drunken smirk on his face. 

sunghoon rolled his eyes, taking jake’s cup and pushing him with enough force to make him land on the couch.

“you didn’t even get to kiss her sober. what makes you think your wasted ass can do it this time?” the laugh he let out is light, yet traced with a bit of venom. 

looking at jake all sprawled out on the couch and giggling like a man without a care in the world made sunghoon sneer. even thinking about that memory makes him want to knock jake out. but he knows his best friend’s teasing is only done to get a reaction out of him, to press on a particularly sensitive bruise— the bruise being his feelings for you. 

“hoon!” he turned, seeing jay from the kitchen pointing to a girl. he approached them with ease, flashing the stranger a smile. “he’s my friend who wanted to get something done.” jay said, charming as ever, palm pointed to sunghoon. 

“this is the minha, the artist i told you about. let me know when you guys agree on something, yeah?” he pat both their backs and made his exit, probably to tend to jake who was wasted and still trying to dance.

the girl turned to him with a gasp, excitedly showing the jewelry on her hand and fingers. they talked about the bracelet he wanted to be made, noting colors he did and didn’t want to include, even passionately showing her reference pictures.

in the middle of his conversation, he raised his head to look for jay but caught you instead, unreadable eyes moving from him to his new-found friend. he took a step back from her and one towards you but you vehemently shook your head, raising a hand to make him stay in place.

you gave him a smile, one that looked a little forced, a little too disingenuous and foreign in a kind face like yours. 

you mouthed ‘i’m heading home', thumb pointing to the door before waving goodbye. “wait. i— i’ll be back.” he says to minha, running and pushing his way through the crowd of bodies. when he stepped out of the front door, gaeul's car had already sped off, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust.

💬 to: angel y/n. — i didn’t get to say goodbye. :(

the three bubbles popped up on his screen. after a few minutes of watching it appear and disappear, you replied.

💬 from: angel y/n. — it’s okay, sunghoon. enjoy the party! 👍

and so ensued the twenty one days of sunghoon’s torture. 

the absence wasn’t loud. it wasn’t immediate. it was a gradual pull, like flowers in a vase slowly losing their petals and vibrant color to their unnatural environment.

you were gone, but not entirely.

though a part of him thinks it would have been more merciful if you just left outright, because the moment he starts noticing things, it’s like he can’t stop. it's the type of cruelty only you could do to him.

you didn’t sit beside him anymore, opting to return to your previous spot behind him during classes. no more loud cheering by his side when he attended the boys’ basketball practices after class. and just to rub salt to his open wound, you made gaeul and jiwon replace him in your usual lunch spot.

that was the final straw— the thing that let him knew he somehow, some way, truly fucked up.

now he can’t even use classes as an excuse to see you because of course, of course, it had to happen right before the holiday break. not only was there an emotional distance, but a physical one, too. he can’t text you either— not without looking stupid or desperate. the last message he sent read “okay. good night, y/n.” which was a reply to your dry “i think i'll sleep, sunghoon. night! :)” 

no more lunches, no more affectionate reminders of homework deadlines, and no more nicknames. things changed. and the shift, though unnoticeable to others, was strong enough for his best friends to speak up. 

“i swear to god if you sigh one more time, i’ll actually mix bleach in your coffee to put you out of whatever misery you’re in.” jay grunts, throwing the couch pillow to sunghoon, unfazed and still busy fiddling with his phone despite getting hit square on his arm.

jake takes a peek from behind the couch, a plate of their shared dinner in hand, laughing as he sees sunghoon pathetically typing and deleting different variations of 'how was your day?' into his phone without actually sending anything.

“is our y/n-ie still not talking to you?” he teases, moving to the sit on the floor, right between his best friend’s legs. the nickname rolling off jake's tongue makes sunghoon's brow twitch in irritation.

“still? i thought they were okay? didn’t she visit us during a game?”

sunghoon’s head snaps up to look at jay. “she did?” 

they nod. “the one we did before break.” 

“without me?” he says this time, voice pitched up in disbelief. 

they give him another nod.

“said she just wanted to drop by and watch us. sat with a long-haired blonde guy.” jay mumbles, giving him a shrug. 

“yeah. he seemed awfully close to her if you ask me. arm around her everything. i’m surprised they weren’t making out.” jake adds, making the other laugh as he creates horrible slurping sounds with arms wrapped around himself.

sunghoon takes the pillow from earlier and smashes it across the side of jake’s head. “you’re disgusting.” he huffs, storming to his room, feeling his heart drop lower and lower with each stomp of his feet.

he hears nothing but static, clouded eyes burning holes on the framed photo atop his bedside table: a candid shot he took using his favorite film camera of you laughing so brightly that your eyes turned into crescents.

the mere thought of someone else seeing you in that light has dinner rushing back out his mouth.

you’ve made peace with your friendship with sunghoon.

you've long accepted that it won’t turn into anything more. at some point, you were able to tune out the girls that hang around him, not caring whether they'd confess. he rejected every single one of them anyway, and you know you wouldn't be any different than those pretty crying faces if you tried.

you only cared when people approached him to have a friendly conversation because sunghoon would happily give them a memorable one. that's what made you jealous.

hell, he even got your friends. gaeul mentioned natto once and sunghoon yapped about the delicacy like a day-one fan. he shared his favorite fashion brands with jiwon too– complete with a detailed explanation on his preferences and favorite collections. 

granted, he wasn’t on the best terms with them right now because they were the ones who had to pick up the pieces of your heart when you started crying halfway through the drive back to your apartment after that cursed party.

you stood there long enough to see him laugh and giggle in amazement at whatever amazing thing the amazing girl was showing him on her phone, stood long enough to see how casually he held her hand and raised it to his face to look at her accessories. your eyes read his lips, 'you’re so cool', right before he saw you.

gaeul held you in her arms as soon as you curled up in your bed, jiwon on the other side shushing you while stroking your head. “i just— i don’t get it.” you grunted, brashly wiping your wet cheeks with the back of your hand, the mascara-stained tears staining your bedsheets as they dropped freely.

“why he’s– why doesn't he doesn’t talk to me like that? but.. he looks at me like he likes me and— and he does things for me he doesn’t do with other people!”  

you were inconsolable, hiccuping in between sobs and screaming more words that your friends don’t understand anymore because you’re crying too much. they just exchanged tired looks while rubbing on your arm until you were exhausted enough to sleep. 

the morning after, while pressing frozen spoons on your swollen eyelids, you were determined to treat him as he did you— sweet and kind, but from a safe distance. close enough to keep your friendship with him together, but far enough so you wouldn’t have to feel your heart get stomped on when you hear him ramble about his passions to someone else. 

he still attempted to ask about you through texts, tried to talk about the weather, or your progress on a project. he never brought up the topic of this weird drift in your relationship and neither did you.

at first, you replied within the same hour, then the same day, then after three days and so on. 

ignoring him became easier when you went back home because you couldn’t see him, couldn't feel the hairs on your nape stand straight whenever his inspecting gaze was stuck on you. you could put your notifications on mute and pretend you fell asleep when he shoots you another text to ask what's keeping you so busy.

half-way through the holiday, the ringtone you set specifically for sunghoon stopped ringing and you knew he stopped trying to reach you.

were you sad? were you relieved? you didn't know.

but what you do know is that you have to keep up this act. so even after the second semester started, you diligently stuck to your new routine. nods in the hallway, civil hi’s and ‘hello’s in the classroom, hoping and praying that your feelings would slip away the same way you were slipping from him.

you marked today’s date with another x — thirty six days since the rift, twenty nine days since the texts stopped.

ten days since random letters started appearing.

you didn’t think he was trying to hide it. and if he did, he was doing a shit job because you were able to recognize his penmanship with just a glance— sunghoon had an odd way of writing the letter y, after all. a different kind of neat with a little flick at the end. 

some days, the letters would be slipped in through your locker, and on busier days, it would be on your desk accompanied with food. the drinks varied, but the pastry stayed the same. an almond croissant from your favorite café— the one you used to hangout with him. 

“i don’t know what i did, but i hope you know i’m sorry.” 

that’s the first letter he wrote. written in a plain piece of yellow pad, contrasting the way it’s elegantly wrapped — in an ivory envelope with a small heart sticker sealing it. you made your friends read it, too. and gaeul cackled loudly, teasing you for immediately turning soft and wanting to run back into sunghoon's arms.

“you’re seriously folding as quick as he folded that half-assed letter.” she said in amusement, chopsticks roughly poking through the seaweed roll on jiwon’s lunch box. the blonde just rubbed your shoulder in understanding, shooting the older girl a glare. “don’t blame our y/n! she’s just a girl in love.”

"hopeless romantics, the two of you." the other girl replied with a shake of her head.

since that day, the letters have improved. still in the same off-white envelope, the same red heart-shaped sticker. the content was different each time, but they made your heart race all the same.

“your hoodie today looks comfortable. i hope you’re staying warm.” “i’ve been thinking about how you're the only one that who understands me even when i don’t say a lot. i'm grateful for that.” “i saw you crying today behind the bleachers. you said it was just from a yawn. it must have hurt a lot if you couldn’t tell anyone. next time you want to yawn again, just call for me, okay?” “i look at you a lot, but i think of you even more. what do i do with you?”

you push the small calendar inside your locker and sigh softly as you peel the heart sticker off, eyes reading through today’s letter. 

“it was drizzling today and i felt so much more sullen. it made me realize how much i keep searching for the voice, the presence that made everyday brighter. i miss you, y/n.”

you hate how your first instinct is to look around. to check if you’ll see the same annoyingly handsome, glasses-wearing face that’s been haunting you for the past month. but of course, he isn’t there. so you fold the letter again.

another one added to the collection of the letters that you keep safely in your room so you can read it again later tonight.

away from the crowd of students flocking to their lockers, sunghoon stands with a soft smile on his face as he watches you slip the envelope in your bag. when you close the metal door shut, he takes it as a sign to walk back to jay and jake, hands in his pocket, grinning in victory. 

“she didn’t throw your corny letter away this time?” jake howls and sunghoon’s smug expression falls into one of panic, making him smack the boy in the back of his head.

“she never did, idiot. and keep your voice down.” 

jay raises his eyebrow. “i don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her. surely it’s easier to just do that rather than… writing all this extra shit every night. who are you? shakespeare?”

sunghoon just sighs and shakes his head, his thumb reaching up to scratch his adam’s apple. “you don’t understand, and pray that you never do. because this shit? it ain’t easy.” 

too much projects still left in your to-do list, too many passive-aggressive comments from useless group mates that you chose to ignore for the sake of keeping the peace, and one-too-many snide remark from a stranger in the women’s bathroom about how ‘interesting’ your shoes are.

needless to say, it's been a rough week.

most of the students have gone home by now. your girlfriends bid you goodbye an hour ago and you stayed behind, opting to work on your essay in an empty classroom because your head wouldn't work if tried to finish it at home. the fact that you'd have a meaningful rest tomorrow gave you the last push you needed to press submit.

tired footsteps echo down the empty hallway as you use your remaining energy to trudge towards your locker. it opens with a bleary rattle and you find a square box laid atop an envelope. 

it’s been a while since sunghoon left you one.

you push the heavy books inside before reaching for the black suede box, the fuzzy material tickling your fingertip as you push the top open.

inside, a bracelet. fine silver chains alternating with four round glass beads– pink and green blooming from the center like ink dropped in still water. a flat silver rectangle hangs in the center with the corners of it smoothly rounded out, and embellished with detailed carvings of flowers around the edges. on the back, an engraving of your name.

why would he do this? 

you carefully return the bracelet inside its case and reach for the envelope with pursed lips. you close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale.

you need to prepare yourself for what you're about to read. if this one's as sweet as his past letters, your resolve— the tiny amount left of it —wouldn't be able to hold you back, especially considering how worn out you are.

"you must have been having a hard time lately— the y/n who’s precious to sunghoon. i hope we can talk again because i want you to tell me that today was tough. i want to be the one you lean on— and the one who tells you that you’re doing a good job regardless. i know you’ve been suffering through a lot, and i want you to know that i’m here.”

the corner of the paper crumples in your tightening fist as you tilt your head up to keep your tears from smudging more of the black ink. you stand in place, trying your best to control your breathing, teeth biting down on your chapped lips as your eyes run over the last words.

“you’ve worked hard, angel. i'm proud of you.”

your shaky hands close the locker door, forehead leaning against it as you hold the letter close to your chest, quietly sniffling with your head hung low, hot tears falling directly on the dirty tiles. “he saw me. he always sees me.” you whisper to yourself, shoulders shaking as your pained cries begin to overtake your body.

there's a faint warmth radiating on your back and your nose picks up notes of sandalwood and leather cutting through the sterile scent of alcohol mixed with floor cleaners.

sunghoon.

he towers over you, body trapped in between his and the cool metal of the lockers as if to hide you from invisible prying eyes. his sturdy arms flip you around, one hand moving to your head to carefully guide it towards his chest, and the other wrapping around you to give your back gentle soothing pats. 

as always, he doesn’t say anything. just wraps you in his arms while his fingers comb through the ends of your hair. 

the two of you stand there until your loud cries are replaced with small hiccups. 

there's a small, shameful whine that leaves your lips when sunghoon pulls away from the hug, but he leans in again, long legs slightly folding to match your height until his face is just a couple of inches away from yours. behind the thick black glasses, his dark orbs gaze into you with worry written all over his face.

you can’t help but feel irritated at how good he looks despite the cheap fluorescent lights hanging overhead.

still as handsome as the first day you saw him— just a little rugged this time around. he looks tired. frazzled. perhaps just as exhausted as you. the dilated vessels turned the whites of his eyes pink, and there’s a faint blue tint on his under eyes that make him look like he’s been losing sleep. 

a selfish part of you hopes you’re the reason for it. 

“i wanted to comfort you, and yet i still managed to make you cry.” he says with a sad smile, both hands cupping your cheek while his thumb brushed away the tears clinging to your lashes. “i’m sorry, angel.” he whispers before hugging you again, making you sigh in comfort. 

you missed hearing that nickname. you missed his voice, his face, his scent, even his stupid glasses.

you just missed sunghoon in general. 

the days you stayed apart drove him crazy too. it gave him the courage to hug you tighter, foregoing his fears and anxieties as he squeezes you in his arms. “i missed you. i think i still do, even now.” he whispers, lips brushing on the crown of your head.

sunghoon held your wrist as he walked outside your department's building to an empty bench.

the pink and peach tones in the sky have disappeared, replaced by the artificial neon orange from the street lamps. the trees are starting to grow their leaves back too, but the cool breeze still nipped at your skin like leftover air from winter trying to leave.

it was cold, but not painful nor unbearable. just enough to keep you alert, aware of how warm your side is from how close sunghoon is sitting beside you. aware of how he made more room by throwing an arm behind and casually resting it on the bench’s backrest so he could cuddle closer.

it feels like whiplash, the way he can’t keep himself from playing with your fingers when a month and a half ago, his obvious choice would be to hold the ends of your shirt like touching your skin would burn him. 

and it does. it still does. 

but who could blame sunghoon? he was an addicted man who got a taste of your touch and firmly decided he’d rather get simultaneously run over, stabbed multiple times, and be set on fire than spend another moment without him holding you or vice versa. kick him too while you’re at it. 

he doesn’t care as long as he can feel you.

“i’m sorry.” he says again, voice as gentle as the way he’s squeezing your index fingers’ knuckles, both pairs of eyes looking at everything else but each other.

you let out a bemused laugh. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

he's stays mum, tongue running across his lower lip and you catch the faint pink color tinting the shell of his ears.

“i don’t. b-but… i do know that whatever i did was enough to push you away from me." he says eventually. "i hope you know it was never intentional. i— i wouldn’t ever ever do anything to hurt you. i understand if you don’t want to tell me what... wrong i did, but i can promise that if you do, i’ll do my best not to do it again.”

his shy mumbles contrast the way he bravely pushes his fingers between yours, the now-interlocked hands resting on his thigh moving up and down as he anxiously bounces his leg.

laughter shatters the solemn atmosphere, causing his head to snap to its source, the evident frown on his face growing deeper. “are you— did you just laugh at my apology?” sunghoon asks with an incredulous expression, making you laugh even harder. still, he can’t help his lips from quirking up at the sight. 

he likes this. he likes holding your hand and hearing you laugh. 

“it’s just— 'm sorry.” you pause, trying to swallow down another fit of giggles trying to burst out. “i just think it’s funny. that’s a new record.”

“what record?”

“the record of most words you’ve said to me at once. the previous one’s fourteen words, i think.”

sunghoon stares, head tilted to one side in confusion. 

“think about it, sunghoon. classes and group lunches aside, you’ve never actually spoken to me properly. it’s never a conversation, it’s almost always just single words.” you let go of his hand only to lay yours on top of his and giving it a couple taps. “or stuff like this.” 

“—it’s like... like you have a word limit. but only when it comes to me.” 

the muscle on his jaw twitches as he sees the little smile on your visage falter, the slight crack in your voice mirroring the one growing in his heart. he wants to object, to defend himself but he knows he wouldn’t have anything proper to say.

“at first i thought it was just because you were shy— but i’ve seen the way you talk to your friends, to my friends.. everyone. everyone loved talking to you, and you seemed to have fun talking with them too. i just don't get why you treat me so different."

sunghoon's hand grips on his own thigh to execute a punishment upon himself. until it hurts, until it stings. but he bears it because he knows it's too light compared to the hurt you've had to silently carry throughout your time with him.

"it sucks that you don’t like me enough to share your hobbies with me, sunghoon. that i have to know you through our mutual friends rather than getting to know you from what you say to me. i—” a pause. “i just gave up because i knew i’m not worth your time, or your effort to speak. that's why i stayed away.”

“y/n… angel, it’s— it’s not like that. i swear.” he cups your cheek to make you look at him. you were still smiling, and yet he saw the sadness in your eyes. the uncertainty.

he hates himself for being the cause of it. 

“then what is it, sunghoon? why don’t you talk to me?” 

“because—” sunghoon takes a deep inhale and purses his lips before finally confessing. “because i don’t know how to.” 

just as the weight is lifted from his shoulders, he feels an even heavier one get dropped back down. he knows there’s no going back. not when you’re looking at him with dissatisfaction in your eyes.

“there’s a reason why i resorted to writing letters instead, y/n. it’s just that…  just— y-you— i’m— fuck!” exasperated, he pulls his hand away from you, using it to rub on his temples instead.

then one travels down and you see as his fingers starts to scratch the base of his neck, nails digging deep into his skin. 

it's one of sunghoon’s habits you’ve noted— an ugly one. the first few times it happened, you tried to talk him out of it, told him how scared you were that he’d hurt himself, but he told you it was to help ground him when he feels frustrated.

like the stubborn man that he is, sunghoon continues to scratch harder and harder, half of his face scrunched up irritation. and true to your fear, he lets out a wince when a thin red gash on the space between his collarbones started to bleed red.

“sunghoon, stop.” you sigh, his wrists tightly trapped in your hold. 

when he turns his head to look at you, he looks like his world has collapsed in itself. he's devastated. broken. 

“i.. i want to explain. i swear, i just—” he closes his eyes tight, hands curling into tight fists under your hold as his chest puffs from how heavy he's breathing. you gently pry each finger open to see deep crescents on his palms. a frown is etched on your lips at the sight, and you know sunghoon’s not faring any better with the way he slumps against you, head rested on your shoulder. 

“they won’t come out..” he finally says after prolonged silence, his voice thin and raspy.

“what won’t, hoon?” 

“... nothing. please let me—” his breaths are trembling, and though you don’t see it, you could feel him holding back from scratching at his neck again.

“whatever it is can wait. just.. don’t. don't do that again.” you mumble, letting go of one of his hands so you could wrap your arms around his shoulder, your palm running up and down his tensed arm while he messily wipes the bleeding scar with his sleeve.

he waits until his breathing turns even before he speaks again.

“are you.. doing anything tomorrow, angel?” 

“hm. no. why?” 

“i… missed you. it’s been so long since i last talked to you.”

“that’s weird. i clearly remember that i was the only one doing all the talking.” you reply with a nudge to his shoulder, hoping your teasing voice is enough to lighten the atmosphere.

“hey! don’t be a smart-ass. you know what i mean. it’s been.. what? like, forty one? maybe forty two days since we hung out properly.”

you lean away from his side.

“you’ve been counting too?” 

“too? so you also did it?” he raises his brow, the previous frown growing into a teasing smile as soon as he sees your expression, like you're glitching between the choice of fight or flight.

“would you look at that. seems like the misery over winter break was mutual.” he says, tone a little too proud for your liking, so you choose fight. you take the soft skin of his cheeks in between your fingers, pinching and stretching it with a whiny sunghoon trying to push your hand away. 

you succumb to his pained pleads to stop.

you lean in closer to soothe the skin with your thumb while laughing under your breath and sunghoon’s eyes slowly flutter close at the touch, head tilting closer to your hand as if to encourage you to continue.

“this is nice.” he whispers, raising his hand and laying it on top of yours to keep it there. 

you want to ask him what stopped him from asking for your touch because it wouldn't even take a heartbeat for you to say yes. you wanted to know why you weren’t given the privilege of seeing him this needy, this vulnerable and bare. yet you kept your mouth shut.

“the university is a place for learning, kids. not dating.”

the sweet little moment is interrupted by an older man, a security guard, pointing his plastic baton at the two of you. “and it doesn’t look like you’re in grad school either, which means you’re not allowed to loiter in university grounds.” he adds, making sunghoon stand straight, head tilted forward to give him an apologetic bow.

“we’re sorry, sir! w-we didn’t notice the time. we’ll be heading home. i promise.” his taller body instinctively steps once to the side, covering you like shield.

the guard tilts his head, brows raised at the odd couple in front of him but his eyes soften as soon he sees the dopey smile on sunghoon’s face when his hands blindly reach out behind him in search of yours. “i better not catch you staying here after-hours again, alright? now go. scram!” 

sunghoon turns around and smoothly slings your bag over his other shoulder like he always used to, your hand held firmly in his as the both of you run to the exit gates giggling like children.

“girls. he just texted me. said he’ll pick me up in an hour.”

you set your phone screen-down on your vanity. jiwon’s behind you, scrolling through pinterest in search for a proper hairstyle inspo and gaeul’s lying on her stomach on top of your bed, busily typing away as she tries to cram her essay. 

thank god you had the foresight to finish it yesterday because one, that meant you got to reunite with sunghoon— who apparently waited for you by the lockers that day —and two, because he was serious about hanging out today.

he double, no, triple checked that you actually wanted to go with him while he walked you to the bus stop, refusing to let go of your hand until you safely got in. 

“i can’t believe that doofus finally got the courage to ask you out. we were wondering how long he’d take.” gaeul chirps up, fingers still busy tapping on her keyboard. 

“finally? what do you mean finally? and what you do mean we?” your hands pause from applying your blush, head craning towards your bed to stare at your dear friend who just stares back with a straight face.

“oh, y/n. don’t be dumb."

"i'm serious!"

"jake and jay? us? we’ve all seen it since we started hanging out. you’re the only one who gets mister congeniality all nervous and speechless. now look in the mirror before i accidentally burn your cheek.” jiwon says, carefully taking your curling wand and a section of your hair. 

“it’s so cute, it’s almost pathetic. but i’m still mad at him for making you cry like that, you know. he better make it up to you today, or else i’m gonna drag his stupid ass through the school field. by his ears.” gaeul says with a face that let you know she intends to follow up on her words.

jiwon continues to hum whilst curling your hair and you try your best to keep your hands from shaking as you apply your gloss.

when you look in the mirror, you can't help but ponder how much your body knew you needed sunghoon because you’re glowing. you look well-rested despite only catching three hours of sleep because of how badly you anticipated this date.

meanwhile sunghoon, alone in his car, is practically vibrating in excitement. or nervousness. he doesn’t know, really. he thinks he stopped being able to differentiate which feeling is which since he saw you that day.

he spent those thirty minutes routinely checking his rearview mirror: is something stuck between the gaps of his teeth? he flossed again just in case. is his hair styled correctly? didn't prevent him from running his fingers through it a few more times. should he put on his coat or would that look too much? fuck, what if he over dressed and you think he’s cringe? 

god, he wasn't even this jittery with his exes.

it's different because he's never actually hung out with you without the excuse of classes or other university-related events. it's different because he's never actually seen you outside the usual café you spend free periods in or under the flashing strobes of the college frat house.

it's different because it's his first date with you, and he's adamant not to make this the last.

ding.

💬 from: my angel. — hoonieeeeee ! i’m almost done. :D 

he glanced at his watch.

fifteen minutes left.

enough time for him to drive once around your block, get out of the car, walk to the passenger’s side and coolly lean against it while pretending he wasn’t an inch away from having a mental breakdown a few moments earlier. 

and when sunghoon finally sees you walk out in a satin dress, he’s convinced he might actually have one. 

“hey there, big guy. you look handsome today. well.. you always do. but today especially! i really like your fit!” you say, adorning that bright smile that sunghoon found so captivating.

the plan to look cool immediately got crushed.

he tried to stand up straight, he did. but he ended up leaning again on his car— not to look charismatic. rather, he needed to, because he was barely feeling his knees. his heart was racing, his breathing turned short, and he began feeling the all-too-familiar prickling sensation in his throat. 

“don’t go quiet on me again, or i’ll ignore you. forever this time.”

he looks more made-up, different from the usual hoodie and jeans combo you always saw. still knee-buckling attractive, but clean. khaki trousers adorning his long legs, thin black belt around his hips and a loose blue-colored polo with thin stripes, the sleeves folded to accentuate his forearms. 

there’s a small sense of satisfaction that comes to you when you realize your outfits make you look like a couple. it seems gaeul made the lucky choice of getting you to wear a baby blue today, but you’ll just thank her for that later. 

“your hair’s.. n-nice.” sunghoon says, a bashful smile growing on his face. “o-oh! and– and i have this!” he opens the rear door of his car, and you hear it slam again before he turns around to present you with a bouquet of flowers.

white petals with vivid yellow blooming from the center, wrapped in crumpled iridescent foil and pastel blue paper.

“daffodils. the lady at the flower shop said it symbolizes new beginnings. and— a-and i want that. a new beginning. with you.” he stammers awkwardly, nibbling on his lower lip as his hands push the bouquet towards you. 

you can only coo at his words, fawning over how cute and small he looked right now despite his height. so fucking adorable, this one.

pushing past the bouquet, your arms find purchase around his torso and you squeeze him in your arms. it takes him a second to return it and you feel him release a sigh, one done out of relief and longing, before leaving a gentle kiss on your hair as he lets you go. 

sunghoon opens the passenger seat of his car for you with his signature shy smile, tipping his head to the side.

“get in, angel. i have a lot of making up to do.” 

he takes you driving around first, wanting to spend a little more time together with you in the privacy of his car before he shares you with other people. one hand on the wheel and the other keeping yours warm, he aimlessly drove around while narrating how he spent his winter break with his family.

his dad took him and his two honorary siblings, jay and jake, to a skiing resort. his mom bought him a new camera as his holiday present, and he casually slipped in wanting to test it out next time with you.

in between those stories, sunghoon admitted that his younger sister was the one to suggest the idea of leaving you letters. the confession leaves his lips in between sheepish laughter, resulting in both your cheeks turning pink. 

your heart felt full listening him be so engrossed in his stories, at one point even letting go of the steering wheel to imitate how jake wobbled in his snowboard. sure he still stuttered every now and then, still held himself back from cussing too much on the off chance you’d get turned off, but those are tiny details you’re determined to work through with him. 

he asked about you too, and you talked about the boring train ride back to your old little town, how the place looked like it was frozen in time with the same faces, same remarks about how you look like a carbon copy of your mom. sunghoon just listens intently, a smile on his face as he steals glances of your face from time to time.

you also talked about how you spent a week trying to get dye stains off your hands when your older brother painstakingly made you dye his blonde hair to black in preparation for the new season.

sunghoon’s hand tighten around yours. blonde. 

“what about.. uh.. dates? did you go out with anyone while we weren’t in contact with each other?” 

“hm. not that i recall? there were a few boys in my town, but i know they’re just messing with me.”

sunghoon’s right hand leaves yours to grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and lips turning into a straight line as he stares at the road ahead.

perhaps he’d been mistaken. maybe this is just how you get when you’ve grown closer to someone. maybe the hand holding or the comforting touches you gave him were ones you also gave to other people. maybe you had taken his invitation as a hang out rather than a date and that’s why you agreed despite having someone else waiting on you.

“the boys saw him, you know. if— if you’re still talking to him then… t-then what are we doing right now?”

the change in his tone isn’t lost on you, nor the hardened expression he wears. from the side of his eye, he catches the befuddled look on your face like you genuinely cannot remember the accusation being true. 

“him? who? i— hoon, what are you talking about?”

the mere memory of his friends’ words, of that man, urges sunghoon to pull over to the side of the road so he can face you because when call him an presumptuous loser and friend-zone him, he at least wants to see your pretty face do it.

“jay said he saw you come to their game with a guy. long hair. blonde. said he was clinging on you like a damn shirt.” 

when you laughed at his confession yesterday, he’ll admit he found it cute. but when you do it today, it does nothing else but make his scowl look more sour.

“is this little laughing-at-sunghoon thing a habit you’ve developed over winter break? because this isn’t funny to me.” he glowers, brows furrowing as your laughter increases in pitch, palms repeatedly slapping against your knee. 

“you—” your fingers point to him with a snicker, face looking pained as you try your darndest to hold back a laugh but it comes out anyway.

sunghoon crosses his arms over his chest, thick eyebrow cocked up while gazing at you with an unamused expression. “y/n. i’m serious. if you have a guy back home, you can tell me. it’ll break my heart, yes, but i don’t want to take part in whatever open relationship you guys hav—” 

“sunghoon, that was my brother.” 

“what?”

“tall guy. long hair. blonde. my brother.”

“that was... jeonghan hyung?”

“yes, dummy. jeonghan just wanted to take see at how the basketball team was keeping up now after he graduated. he’s an alumni, remember? you know he had blonde hair. you even hogged my phone all to yourself when he facetimed me that one time.”

it’s your turn to have your arms folded on your chest, tilting your head with a little sass, lips curled in a smirk. wordlessly, his body snaps to the front and he attempts to start the engine again, but you clutch his wrist just in time.

“no— you can’t just say that and ditch the conversation. you’re gonna explain yourself right now, park sunghoon.” 

the sound of his full name said in such a stern voice makes him squirm in his seat.

“i– i was jealous, okay? what more do you want me to say?” he grumbles, looking out the window while weakly attempting to shake your hold off of him, letting out a grunt that barely sounds like your name as you refuse to back down. 

he sighs in defeat, and you can see the sharp tic of his jaw tensing up.

“you weren’t talking to me. barely even looked my way. of course i was worried when my friends started talking about how you went to their practice without me. with a new guy, at that. it just.. the thought didn’t make me feel good. c-can we leave it now? this is embarrassing.”

a satisfied smile pushes your cheekbones up as you turn the keys, giving his shoulder a pat. 

“drive, big guy.” 

sunghoon made a reservation for the restaurant you mentioned months ago in passing. it’s nothing upscale or expensive. no wines or steaks. just the regular korean food you’re used to, but elevated just a little bit to make it taste more contemporary rather than home-made.

but you didn’t really care for that. the sole reason you wanted to go was their aesthetic: the dining area looked like the inside of a greenhouse with its sunroof ceiling, leaves and flowers hanging from wooden beams, and the lighting was just warm enough to set the ambience. 

a hand on the small of your back courteously guided you towards your seat, and you’re too enamored by the interior to notice sunghoon staring at you with eyes full of admiration, his elbow resting on the table so he could comfortably continue to look at you in silence while you take in every detail of your surroundings. 

true to his words, sunghoon makes up for his shortcomings.

he refills your drinks, debones the meat for you, constantly fills your plate before your food even runs out, and he apparently even paid for the meal in advance.

throughout the meal, sunghoon indulges you in short stories, letting you take on the role of the listener rather than the yapper this time around. he's telling you about penguins in antarctica and you hum, taking a sip of your drink when you notice one tiny, yet very clear difference in him today. 

he wasn’t wearing his glasses. 

you know he has a collection of them, and he switches things up every now and then. from thick boxy clear glasses, to the trendy ones you’ve seen models rock on social media.

your favorite pair would have to be the rimless silver ones he wore during your department’s post-exam party because they make him look unreal— like a real-life manhwa character. but he usually wore the good ol’ reliable thick black ones to lectures. 

the glasses had their charm but without them, he’s a different kind of handsome. his features look sharper, especially with the warm lighting casting shadows from his tall, unobstructed nose bridge. his eyes look clearer and more expressive too.

on the side of his chin, a tiny mole. and then another one. black dots mapped out across his fair skin, all varying in size and but your eyes lock on the distinct one under his eye, and one on the side of his nose, right below where his glasses’ nose pad would sit.

no wonder you didn’t see it.

“you’re checking me out? so blatantly?” sunghoon pipes up, and you notice how the mole under his eye moves when he raises an eyebrow at you. it makes you giggle, reaching forward to poking the round dot under his eye.

“i didn’t know you had moles.” you mumble, rubbing on the skin with extra gentleness before leaning back. “kind of reminds me of someone i met when i was a kid.”

“hm? do tell.” 

“ah, it’s nothing. there used to be this kid in my hometown who had moles like yours. god, that was years ago. i was really young— around eight or nine years old, i think. i met him at a playground where older boys were making fun of him for it.” 

“let me guess. you defended him from the big bad bullies and he fell in love with you?” 

“defended him, yeah. jesus, they were assholes. the memory is hazy, but i tried to comfort him by chasing him around and stuff. i tried to go back to the playground again the next day after my classes, but he never came back.” you poke at your left overs with your fork, the distant memory making a grin dance on your lips.

“but falling in love? highly doubt it. told him my name but i never got his back. all i remember's his cute moles. he might as well have been an imaginary friend.” 

“i say defending a kid like that can definitely make them fall for you.”

“are you speaking from experience, mister?”

"partly."

you smile, cupping your hands behind your ear, making sunghoon chuckle as he wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“when i was a kid, i used to be so timid— waaaaay way worse than i was with you.” he says, and the way his eyes widen when he extends his words make you giggle.

“never talked to my classmates, always stayed at home. even my cousins who visited can’t get a word out of me. my parents tried making me do hobbies to get me out of my shell. you name it, i did it. and it helped, but only by a little. then they thought maybe going to the city might help my introversion. my little sister was growing up, too, so they started looking for a place here in seoul.” 

your elbows perch on the table, chin resting above your interlocked fingers as you give him a dreamy nod. “mhm. and then?” 

“and then the day before we moved, i decided i’m gonna try playing with the kids from my town. just to give it a last shot. except they teased me a lot because i wasn’t talking. they made fun of my moles, too. but then—” sunghoon pauses.

“this strange girl came shouting. i’ve never seen her before. think she went to a different elementary school, but she fought the boys off even though they were taller than her. she threatened to throw rocks at their heads and pull their hair out. and you know what? they looked scared. i think that was the first time i saw genuine fear.” he says, breaking out in a fit of giggles.

“picture this: i was half a foot taller than her but she was reprimanding me and pushing me to stand up straighter, saying i should learn how to speak up and fight back. that no one would fight my battles for me but me. since then, i started doing it— practicing my speech skills and self confidence. eventually, i stopped cowering whenever strangers approached me and i learned how to speak without my voice shaking. it's all thanks to her.” 

when his monologue is over, sunghoon just grins at you like reminiscing alone was enough to comfort him. you feel a little irritated, jealous of the way he speaks so affectionately of her memory.

but at the same time, you can’t help but smile back. that's how you feel about your own little friend after all.

“so you fell in love?"

"i wouldn't be so hasty to call it love. perhaps admiration. deep admiration."

"don’t tell me you never told her your name like my old friend?”

his chuckle is mirthful as he shakes his head. “oh believe me, i did. swear on it. either she didn’t hear me, or she’s deaf because she just started calling me ‘pengoo’ instead of my name.”

pengoo. 

it’s familiar. 

you squint your eyes once more as you see the dimple on his cheek appear, the indentation becoming deeper as he flashes you a knowing smile.

pengoo, pengoo, pengoo. 

wait.

“his shirt. that was the shirt he was wearing...” you trail off in a whisper, the words barely audible as you point your hands at sunghoon, and he just smiles even wider, nodding his head slowly. 

you sit there in stunned silence, hands crossed over your mouth as you stare at the sunghoon whose look of pride turned into concern, nervous of the crystal clear shock on your face. he's cautious as he offers his open palm on the table, skittish and biting his lip when you still refuse to hold his hand.

he calls out your name with such gentleness that you’re transported back to that day— to the little, but still taller boy who had tears in his eyes, looking ridiculous and snotty while sporting a white shirt with a penguin patch.

the one who you affectionately called 'cookies and cream' for the specks of black splattered across his face, whose tears you wiped using your special barbie handkerchief, whose arm you scribbled your name on with your glittery purple pen that he wanted to taste because it smelled like grape juice.

though the memory isn’t as clear as it was to you years ago, he was a constant in your life. whenever you encountered people who leaned more towards timidity, it's him who appeared in the back of your mind. the nameless friend who you never saw again after his worried mom fetched him from the playground.

except he's not nameless anymore, and he's sitting right in front of you.

the salty tears burn when you try to hold them back, but they're insistent on coming out so you hang your head low and attempt to contain your sniffles. panicked, sunghoon gently holds on your arm and guides you outside of the restaurant to a more secluded spot in the front lawn. 

“y/n.” he calls out again, pale hands gently squeezing on your hips as he bends down, trying to take a peek of your face that you insist to cover. “angel… did i make you cry again?” he sighs and you shake your head, quickly taking him in your arms, hugging him like how a mother would her child who’s come back from war. 

“my pengoo.. my pengoo.” you choke out in between stifled sobs, stroking his head. his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off of the ground for a moment as his face settles on the crook of your neck, nose brushing against the skin as he whispers back.

“it’s me. pengoo’s here. you're okay. i'm not leaving.” his words do nothing but make you cry harder, tears staining his shirt and fists crumpling the fabric on his back. 

“i can’t believe it’s you. i–”

"do you want to talk about this somewhere else, angel?” sunghoon asks in a soft voice, a tone he reserved only for you, carefully wiping your damp under eyes.

a nod is all he needs.

the travel is silent aside from the small little sniffles you do and the faint melody from the car’s speaker. your eyes blankly stare outside, the view of the buildings just as blurry as the thoughts and memories running in your head. meanwhile sunghoon’s trying his best to console you, his thumb lazily rubbing the skin on the back of your hand while stealing glances every now and then.

“where are we?” you croak out when the car comes to a halt. sunghoon opens the car door, his fingers nimble as they take your seatbelt off for you. “a park near my neighborhood. in one of my favorite spots to rest my head which you need to do.”

his hand return to yours so he can pull you towards the picnic area.

sits down on a bench and you elect to sit on the wooden table itself, head craning as you take in the new environment. the place is beautiful. quiet, serene and full of trees that it looks like a modern glitch in the middle of a forest.

“you’re not gonna kill me for knowing your secret, are you?” you sniffle, feet gently nudging the side of his thigh with a soft chuckle.

“no people, no witness. i’m sorry, y/n. can’t have people knowing i was a loser back in the day.” he says in a gurgled voice after looking around, playfully pinching your arm which makes you squeal and swat his hands away. 

in the middle of play fighting, your eyes catch the swing set nearby and you remember him again. pengoo.

the flashback is so clear you could almost see a younger version of yourselves: you, pushing him on the swing, and him using his voice properly for the first time to scream ‘stop!’ when his seated body lifts too high off the ground.

you turn to sunghoon, the real, grown sunghoon, and he’s already looking up at you with one hand resting on your covered knee, giving it languid strokes with his thumb. 

"penny for your thoughts?"

“why, hoon? i mean.. if you knew all along, why didn’t you tell me?” you reach for his cheek and his eyes close at the contact, letting out a soft sigh of comfort. he holds it in place, tilting his head to leave a light kiss on your palm.

“i’m sorry. if you want me to be honest, i had no plans to let you know. i wasn’t even aware you remembered that day. for all i knew, i was just one of the strangers who got bright little y/n’s help.”

“you… you grew up so well.” salty tears blur your vision again as you lean down to press your lips against his forehead.

“i couldn’t have done it without you. that was a significant event in my formative years— i seriously can’t imagine what kind of life i’d live if i hadn’t met you that day.” he stands up so he can tower over you, looking down to wipe the wetness from your eyes. 

“you're my savior. my angel in every sense of the word.” 

you walk around the area holding each other’s hand, going over your first meeting— the actual one — the one you had before you met again as grown ups.

he tried talking his parents out of moving, and though they were surprised at his sudden enthusiasm, they ultimately refused because the new house in seoul was already paid for. he waited for you that morning, until the last second— until his parents were yelling at him from the car. 'i think i left a piece of my heart in that playground.' are his exact words.

his search didn't stop there. night and day he bothered his parents to contact anyone they could from their previous town, to ask if anyone had a child with your name. but because his parents were like him— aloof and private, nothing really turned up.

but he was a kid determined to keep you alive and present in his mind so when he met you again that fortunate morning in university, he immediately knew it was you without even hearing your voice.

every day he stayed by your side was spent in awe, marveling at the woman you’ve become. 

there wasn’t much difference, physically nor emotionally. obviously you’ve matured and grown into your features— but you still talked in the same cadence, spoke your mind with just as much enthusiasm, and still cared for people the same way you did to the young boy in the playground.

still the same girl who’d get him too flustered to talk properly.

“so jay and jake knew about me the whole time too?” you ask after arriving at the parking area and sunghoon lifts you up to sit on the hood of his car. he nods, comfortably settling between your parted legs as his hands rest on your thighs. 

“of course. they were the first to know about my childhood crush after all.” 

“childhood crush, huh. what about now? am i still a crush?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he rolls his eyes, the cute little dip on his cheek becoming more evident.

“you know the answer to that already, angel.” he replies, pulling you closer to him by your hips and your arms naturally loop around his neck like they were always meant to be there.

you don’t know whether it’s the long day you’ve had, or the insane revelation of who sunghoon has been this whole time, but your head’s starting to spin.

perhaps it’s his cologne, how it’s starting to smell is stronger and stronger as his body leans closer to yours. or maybe it’s the way you feel too warm in your own skin whenever his eyes drop to your lips, and how he his sharp fangs poke out when he bites his in return.

it’s like the air turned heavy in a matter of a few seconds and the cool breeze is doing nothing to thin out the tension in the wide empty space.

from this close, you could hear his breath get slower, thicker, eyes never leaving your mouth. he brings a hand up to cup your cheek and your breath hitches when his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

sunghoon closes the distance first. 

the kiss is sweet and gentle but filled with yearning and just a little bit of hesitation. your lips are the softest too, practically erasing any memory left over from the other irrelevant girls he’s kissed before. and you’re so damn sweet.

despite every inch of his body wanting to have more, he does the gentlemanly thing to do and breaks the kiss but not without biting on your plump lower lip first. when his eyes finally focus, your cheeks are flushed, tinted a rosey color like your slightly swollen lips that reflect the distant street lights.

sunghoon's grip on you is as tight— just a hair above bruising. it’s taking everything to hold on his self-control, to not take you for himself right then and there.

he just had you back. he doesn’t want to scare you away by being so forward with his need and indecency. 

but it’s so, so hard to behave when you’re like this, so small and flustered, looking up at him with half lidded eyes and your lower lip trapped between your teeth.

so when he feels you attempt to press your thighs close, his instinct tells him to pull you even closer to keep them open, the movement making your dress ride up, the slit on its side exposing more of your skin. 

and you whine—either from his touch or from the cold air— but sunghoon doesn’t care. not anymore.

the noise you make is more than enough to snap whatever’s left of his restraint and he leans down to capture your lips again. but it isn't soft this time.

it's sure.

it's hungry and handsy.

still full of yearning, but mixed with the raw, physical need to be closer to one another.

your heads tilt to opposite sides, lips weaved together while letting out small whispers of sweet nothings in between.

sunghoon takes your lower lip in between his again, sucking on the flesh while his hand slip underneath the slit of your dress, palm rubbing up and down the skin of your upper thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. 

while his lips keep your mind fuzzy, he busies his hand by trailing it higher and higher beneath the loose fabric of your dress until you feel his thumb graze your bare hips, just a fraction of an inch below where your panties are resting, making you gasp against his mouth. 

a chance opens up for sunghoon to snake his tongue past your lips, and he greedily takes it, determined to explore every possible inch. you taste like decadence. like the coffee ice cream you had for dessert combined with something celestial.

it's fucking heavenly. 

you try to fight him back with your tongue, and for a while, he lets you. convinces you that you’re winning when you try to push your tongue against his, pink muscles twirling together in a dance full of lust and wanting, but sunghoon eventually grows tired of it and he gives your thigh a reprimanding squeeze, making you moan again, providing him the perfect opportunity to take over the messy liplock. 

you take the small bit of revenge you can by threading your fingers through the jet black locks on the back of his head, tugging on it once, twice, until he’s growling your name against your open mouth.

his lips wrap around yours, your tongue graze on the sharp end of his canines, his fingers wander near the plump of your ass, and you kiss until both of you are literally seeing stars.

you part, heaving oxygen back in your deprived lungs and your foreheads meet with eyes still in steady contact as your heavy breathing mingles.

sunghoon’s hands never leave your thigh or your cheek. rather, he gives them a final brush with his thumb before stealing a quick peck, damp lips brushing against your skin until it reaches your jaw, giving the spot a kiss as well.

“perv.” you say, raising your thigh a little just so you could push sunghoon’s hand away. “first kiss and you’re already feeling me up?” 

“okay, y/n. let’s pretend your eyes weren’t my arms the entire time i was driving. i know you like how veiny they look.” he replies after leaning back, the same canines that were grazing on your tongue a while ago now in full display as he flashes you a cocky grin.

“i.. you noticed that?” 

“i did. i notice a lot of things about you.” 

“like what?” 

he's quiet for a moment.

“like how you’re starting to shiver.” his muscular arms lift you up and safely bring you back down to the ground.

“i think it’s time to get you home, angel.” 

a cacophony of cheers erupt in your classroom as the announcement blares from the speaker. an early dismissal due to seniors needing several classrooms to prepare for something you didn’t care enough to pay attention to. 

all you knew was you needed to get out as soon as possible so you can see sunghoon again. 

from: pengoo. 🐧— heard the announcement yet? :)  to: pengoo. 🐧 — yep!! i'll just grab a few things from my locker and head there. see u! ♡ from: pengoo. 🐧 — see you, angel. :) 

the two of you made the university garden your official hang-out spot. specifically the one near the big ginkgo tree where the both of you have spent hours under either people-watching, eating or reviewing.

and stealing kisses from each other, of course.

so when sunghoon asked to meet you there this morning, the answer was an automatic yes.

just as you sit down on the picnic mat, you see him appear from behind a tall shrub, bag slung over his shoulder and a big plastic bag hanging from his hand.

“did i take too long? i'm sorry, angel. it was lunch rush and there was a line in the restaurant and jake was arguing with a girl and—” 

“hoon. i just got here. it’s okay.” you say, chuckling at his never-changing nervous demeanor.

he leans forward to give your lips a chaste peck, an apology leaving his lips again before he busies himself by taking your lunch out of the plastic and making sure your bottle is uncapped and your utensils are cleaned before tending to his own food. 

a fond smile creeps on your lips as watch him try to talk about his morning in between bites. he really has improved since that date. gone is the boy who shied away from your touches, and replaced by one who openly asks for a hug and whines when he doesn’t feel your hands on his whenever you walk together. 

his hand is always in yours when he drives both of you to school (despite the fact that he has to drive 20 minutes earlier to do so.) his arm consistently curled around your shoulder or your waist when you walk to class together. you always tease him for it too, but he just takes it with a smile because he knows it’s true.

he’s whipped for you. 

after you eat and clean up, you offer to keep the picnic mat in your locker but sunghoon mentions he wants to stay for a bit more, and you appease him, letting him lie down with his head comfortably laying on your plush thighs while you lean back, palms pressed on the mat to support yourself.

silence envelops the both of you, but it doesn’t make your head run through a million thoughts anymore. it isn’t tense this time. 

your eyes wander to him again— your not-quite-boyfriend boyfriend.

your finger pokes at the mole at the side of his nose out of habit, the glass beads in your bracelet reflecting bright spots on his smooth skin. you go from one mole to the next, moving it down the sharp bridge of his nose, then to his jaw, and you giggle upon feeling sunghoon shiver under your featherlight touch. 

you move your middle finger down his neck, choosing to poke at the peak of his adam’s apple before noticing the pink lines on his neck.

again?

before you can even point it out, sunghoon’s voice cuts through the silence. 

“i feel like pengoo whenever i’m with you.”

you sit up properly. “pengoo?” 

he gives you a nod and you stare, giving him a look that spells ‘i don’t know what you mean’, making him smile. 

“whenever you’re around… it’s like i become that kid again. the one that can’t speak or think properly. i don’t know, it’s weird. the same girl that gave me the confidence to talk being the same one i can’t be around without making a fool of myself? i can’t even give you a proper compliment for god’s sake.” 

that’s true. he always compliments your outfits, or your accessories, or compliments you through implications. things like “you’re making everyone stare.” or “that cute puppy looks just like you.” but nothing that’s actually a straight forward compliment. 

you never had the courage to bring it up to him, partly because you’re afraid he might find you too needy, but also because deep down, you know the words he did say already took a lot of courage from him.

“i don’t.. really mind. not that much.” 

“don’t lie to me, angel.” 

“i’m serious!” you laugh, fingers forcibly pushing the edges of his frowned lips upward. “i do have a question though.”

“what is it?” 

your fingers ghost over the exposed skin on the base of his neck, fingers gently pressing on the spot between his clavicles, tracing over the faint red scratches over it.

“have you been scratching your neck again? why do you do it when you know i don’t like it?” 

“angel… i just—” he sighs softly, reaching for your hand. “i get frustrated.” 

“you always say that. but there has to be a way for you to release your frustrations without scratching? the scar from last time isn’t even healed yet.” 

below you, sunghoon releases a soft sigh and raises a hand to poke at the same spot on your neck. “what is this?” he asks.

“my neck…?” you reply cluelessly, to which he just shakes his head, poking at the skin again flinch from the ticklishness of his touch. "what's inside here?"

“my throat?” 

he finally nods, pointing to his own. “they get stuck here.” he opens his mouth, tongue sticking out and points to it as well. “and here.” 

“they? hoon, you have to stop talking in riddles. you know i’m stupid.”

sunghoon runs a hand over his face and sits up, moving behind you until you're settled between his legs, back comfortably leaned against his firm chest.

“okay. i’m doing this.” he whispers mostly to himself before squeezing you in his arms as if to reassure himself. “don’t interrupt me, okay? because if i don’t get this out completely, i might not be able to say it at all.”

you press your palms on the arms wrapped around your waist and nod.

“you see those those?” sunghoon asks, and your eyes follow the direction of his finger pointing at the different florae.

the green leaves of the bushes look even brighter next to different bundles of spring-born tulips— colors of white, red and vibrant yellow scattered throughout the garden. 

you're unsure of where this conversation is headed, but nod anyway.

“it’s like i have that inside me. a garden— of words.” he says slowly, taking pauses between every words.

“at least that’s what i started telling myself after i left years ago to aid me in my quietness and it helped. a lot. i realized that i don’t really have to give people anything of value, and it made talking easier. if i don’t like someone, i can give them dead leaves or even weeds. but if i do, i can give them grass or the most common roses and it’ll do. maybe even an arrangement of better flowers for the people i want to keep in my life.” 

he stays quiet for a beat, and you can feel his nose poke on your skin as his lips press on the exposed skin of your shoulder. “but you… you know you mean a lot to me, right?”

you reply with a hum, eyes glued to the leaves and petals swaying in the wind.

“i'm slow to speak because i take so long walking through the garden. because it's so difficult to choose what to give to you. because i want to pick and gather only the prettiest flowers— the prettiest, kindest words —for you. i want them to be neatly arranged and looking just as beautiful as the way you appear to me. because you’re precious to me... and you deserve nothing less.”

the words tug on your heartstrings in a way you’ve never felt before. to be adored and admired so much to the point of speechlessness wasn’t something you’ve ever experienced, or frankly, ever expected.

so when he speaks of you in such a way, it overwhelms your chest with a sense of safety— of knowing your heart is safe with him. 

and the way he says it too: voice low, shaky, and starkly different from the composed sunghoon you usually hear in classes.

it's then that you realize the apprehension you saw you wasn't done out of malice.

sunghoon only did it because he wanted to protect something dear to him.

he shifts and pulls his hands away from your waist only to sit cross legged in front of you. it seems like you aren’t the only one feeling vulnerable because when you see him, he looks just as flustered.

his cheeks are rosy and his ears are in an even deeper shade, almost matching the petals floating above the grass.

“don’t laugh at me for this, okay?” a defeated chuckle leaves his lips and he reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through yours before looking you in the eye. "jake and jay know about how much i've been rehearsing."

"hm?"

“i’ve dreamt of meeting you again, you know? so when i saw you on our first day, i told myself that i’ll do it. i’ll show you my gratitude. i’ll show you i’ve changed. that i’ve grown. that i’m not the sickly and shy kid in the park anymore.” sunghoon pauses. “so every night in front of my mirror, i rehearse the different ways i could talk to you— and it worked. it always goes smoothly.”

“but i’ll see you again in the morning and it’s like the hours i spent practicing rush out the window— because.. b-because i’ll hear your voice, and you’ll laugh, and you'll smile. and you’ll look at me the way you are right now… and it’s like all the bouquet of flowers get stuck here.” sunghoon explains, finger accusatorily pointing to the still-healing scar on the skin above his throat.

“it feels like their thorns are piercing me from the inside, angel. it sucks and it’s frustrating. and the only way to relieve it is to scratch, but they won’t come out even if i do. and then i’ll beat myself up over it, go home, and the cycle will repeat itself. and— you’re doing that smile again. s-stop it!” he stammers, finger now angrily pointed to you. 

you chuckle because you don’t even know what kind of smile he means and sunghoon just sighs, reaching for his neck again, palm over his throat like he’s trying to relieve the itch without scratching.

he looks annoyed and irritated, nose scrunched up as he clears his throat one, two times.

“i— i love you, y/n.”

the three words he’s been itching to confess for months, now breaking free from the tip of his tongue.

both of you freeze in your spots.

you can’t believe the words he just said, and he looks like can’t believe it either. 

“i love you.” sunghoon repeats, gnawing on the flesh on the inside of his lip while his hands squeeze on the base of his neck as if physically forcing the words out. “i think you’re so cool. and you’re pretty. but even that isn’t enough. beautiful is the closest i can get, but i hope you get what i mean a-and… fuck, i should’ve just written a letter.”

an intense battle of eye contact ensues, his free hand curled tightly atop his lap as he takes a deep breath in.

“i— i’ve admired you since i was a clueless kid in the playground. liked you s-since you talked to me on our first day. and i’ve loved you since our first kiss, but i was too much of a pussy to say it then because i didn’t want you to think i only loved you because of it.” he grunts, knuckles pressing on his temple. “and i’m sorry that i don’t talk much because every time i do, it just makes you cry and i don’t want to see you crying because it breaks my heart too—”

the speed at which his words come out begins to pick up, making it barely understandable so you call out his name in an attempt to slow him down but he just looks at you with determination in his eyes.

“no! listen to me. i know i’ve had my moments, and i’ll probably keep having them, but i want you to know that i love you. sincerely. you’re precious to me, y/n. and i don’t want you to doubt what i feel any longer so believe me when i say i’m trying my best right now, even though i’m babbling.”

he pauses just to take another inhale, and when he finally speaks again, both his voice and his eyes turn softer. so soft you can't hear his words.

"i'm sorry, hoon. i didn't quite catch that."

"y/n. will you please be my girlfriend? you can say no, o-of course. i'm just throwing the idea out there but if you think i haven't proved myself yet then i'll be fine just waiting, i swear i c—” 

you swallow the rest of his words in your mouth as you press your lips against his, eyes closed while you grab sunghoon’s hand by his wrist and guide it to your nape.

he lets out a meek sound of surprise but you can immediately feel him melt into you, fingers tightly holding on the neckline of your shirt as his soft, pillow-soft lips locked against yours in a slow but passionate kiss. 

when you pull away, sunghoon’s eyes are glassy and you can see love pouring out from the way the beautiful chocolate brown orbs gaze into yours.

you leave a gentle peck on the mole under his eye— a thing you’ve picked up after multiple make out sessions —and lean back to appreciate the full view of a flustered sunghoon. 

“i love you too.” you finally reply with an elated smile. “and i’d love to be your girlfriend.”

if humans had the chance to have heart-shaped eyes, you’re convinced sunghoon would have it at this moment.

his cheekbones are pushed all the way up, pearly whites flashed at you before he tackles you down into the picnic mat with a tight bear hug making you giggle loudly as he rolls the both of you from side to side while pressing kisses all over your face. 

“hoon!” you squeal while wriggling in his hold and he relents, standing up to run in a wide circle around the garden, arms spread out wide while yelling.

“she said yes! y/n’s mine! my girlfriend!”

thankfully, the few people meters away only flash the two of you confused looks before going about their business.

"can't believe you're my girlfriend now." he giggles breathlessly as he ends his run in front of you, only to wrap his arms around your figure once more, lifting you off the ground and spinning in place while professing his love at the top of his lungs.

it’s dizzying to be his, literally and figuratively. but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you're his, and he's yours.

you love park sunghoon.

from the thorns, to the long stems and rough leaves, up until the prettiest petals that are finally able to leave his soft lips.

but sunghoon is determined to spend the rest of life growing his garden until he can find the words that'll convince you that he loves you more. 

BONUS SCENE:

"let me get this straight. you're telling me that you got jealous of me.. so you made my little y/n cry three times?" jeonghan's voice is low, face void of any emotion as his arms cross over his chest across the both of you.

"technically it's seven, if we count the times i cried over winter break too." you mumble, meekly raising seven fingers.

sunghoon turn to you with wide eyes in disbelief. why would you throw your boyfriend under the bus? during his first time personally meeting your brother, no less.

"y/n, what the hell?"

jeonghan's hand slammed on the table, making the both of you flinch. "don't look at her. look at me. i was asking you a question, and now you're going to explain."

he thought jeonghan was cool— and he still does— but he reminded sunghoon so much of you whenever you get stern, and it's like deja vu of the time you got serious with him during your first date.

"no, i— it wasn't necessarily because of that, hyung. i just so happen to have made her cry after i got jealous so it isn't really a cause-and-effect scenario—"

"love, you're getting a little off track..."

"he said he wanted me to explain—"

your brother's giggles echo throughout your family home's dining area and he shakes his head, leaning over to tap on sunghoon's shoulder. "nah, man. i'm just fucking with you. but you knew i had blonde hair so you really should've known better."

"i.. y-yes, sir! i mean hyung! sir— i.. i mean... yeah." he sighs in defeat, head hanging low in an apologetic bow while jeonghan just nodded in acknowledgement.

"but if you make my little y/n cry again, i'll make sure you really won't be able to use that throat of your ever again, got it?" the way your brother's able to make those words sound sweet make even your heart race, your hand finding sunghoon's underneath the table to give it comforting pats.

"and you're sleeping in my room. no nicknames or pda as long as you're under the yoon household."

your boyfriend's eyes travel between you and your brother and he only grips your hand, nodding.

he can't wait to go back to seoul.

୨ from ! 🐰 yan ୧ : aaaaaaaaaaa!! it's finally done. i'm gonna cry. ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა i saw the video of i-lander sunghoon dancing to pretty u again and i just had to. if you can't already tell, this is heavily inspired by the song and the confession part is heavily inspired by it! i'm thinking of writing shorter drabbles of other members so just shoot me an ask if you have an idea. < 3

⌗ taglist — @neozon3nha @zerocoded @firstclassjaylee @yuyita-rosier @chiiyuuvv

[hoonieangel]

THIS IS SOSOSOSOSO CUTE OMG

I’LL BE YOUR BABYDOLL !!

Pairing: SliceofLifeYoutuber!Jay x FamilyYoutuber reader

Synopsis: when a clip of your daughter asking you to marry Jay from youtube goes viral, you can’t help the new feelings that came with the publicity.

Note: i loveee mommy readers i cant lie i had a jake fic likee 4 years ago where he was the baby daddy and he found out years later lmk if i should bring that back or make a part 2… no angst just fluff and a lovely family dynamic— enha masterlist

You didn’t mean to film today. You really didn’t. The plan was to sleep in, maybe do pancakes if you could talk yourself into it, and let the rain do the heavy lifting when it came to entertainment.

But, of course, your daughter had other ideas.

“Can we make a video?” she asked, already dragging the tripod out from the corner like she owned the place. “Please, please, please! I wanna show everyone my doll and my sparkly rock and my dance moves!”

You blinked at her from the couch, still in the hoodie you’d slept in and cradling a half-full mug of lukewarm coffee. Her hair was sticking out in about five different directions, her pajama top was on inside-out, and she looked like she hadn’t blinked since the idea entered her brain.

“…You didn’t even brush your teeth.”

“I did it yesterday.”

You sighed and set the mug down. “Fine, but I’m not putting on makeup.”

“You look pretty already, mommy,” she said, already winning.

Fifteen minutes later, the camera was rolling.

“Hi friends,” you said, tugging your knees up to your chest as you sat cross-legged on the floor. The living room behind you looked semi-tolerable — toy baskets tucked into corners, pillows fluffed just enough to pass.

Next to you, your daughter waved a sparkly pink hairbrush like a wand.

“I’m back with the star of the channel—”

“It’s me,” she whispered to the camera, wide-eyed.

“Yes, yes it is. It’s a rainy day today, so we’re doing a cozy little video. No makeup, no fancy lights. Just us, some snacks, and probably five too many stuffed animals.”

“Six,” she corrected, already building a mountain of plushies behind her.

“Right. My bad.”

The vlog flowed like a stream of consciousness — soft, silly, and totally unplanned. She showed off her favorite items one by one: a plastic butterfly ring, a tiny glitter jar she insisted was “fairy dust,” and the rock. The rock she found two weeks ago on the sidewalk and now kept in a special box like it was a diamond.

“This is Rocco,” she said proudly, holding it up to the lens. “He’s magic but only on Tuesdays.”

You tried not to laugh as you nodded. “Naturally.”

Then came the dance break, the “Guess the Animal” game., and a very passionate performance of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star into the hairbrush mic, complete with dramatic bowing.

You leaned back against the couch, watching her with tired eyes and a full heart.

She was chaos, glitter, and warmth wrapped into one tiny body. And even though your head ached and your inbox was full and the laundry was judging you from the hallway, you wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

Later, when the camera was off and she was curled up on your lap with her arms loosely around your waist, you ran your fingers through her hair and whispered, “You’re my favorite person, you know that?”

“I know,” she mumbled into your sweatshirt, already half-asleep.

“You’re gonna be so mad when I show this video to your future partner.”

She smiled against your chest. “Only if they’re weird.”

You laughed.

She didn’t even realize that she’d just captured something special — not for the algorithm, not for followers, but for you. A little snapshot of who she was at this exact age. Her silly stories. Her soft voice. Her wide eyes. Her everything.

You kissed the top of her head and pulled the blanket over both of you.

Tomorrow, maybe you’d edit the video or maybe you’d just keep this one for yourself.

You didn’t mean to post it.

Well, you did, but not in the way that mattered.

It was almost midnight, and you were curled up in bed with your laptop heating your thighs and a bowl of half-melted ice cream on the nightstand. Naelle had knocked out hours ago, her unicorn tucked under her arm and one sock halfway off. The rain was still tapping gently against the window, the apartment humming with that rare, end-of-day stillness.

You’d started editing just to wind down.

You were halfway through the video when it happened: you hit play on a random, barely lit clip and there it was—Naelle’s tiny voice clear as day:

“Can you marry him now?”

You paused. Rewound.

“Jay from YouTube. He cooks pancakes and he has a plant named Potato.”

You stared at the screen, eyebrows lifting so high they practically left your face.

“…What.”

You hadn’t even heard her say that while filming. You must’ve been too busy laughing at her chicken nugget meltdown or trying to stop her from gluing googly eyes to the cat toy bin. But there it was—spoken with full toddler conviction.

Your face in the background was priceless. Stunned. Speechless. Slightly offended that she’d made the decision without you.

You started laughing. Actual belly-laughing into your throw blanket. You dragged the clip into a separate timeline and trimmed it down to fifteen seconds. A little caption. A little music. Just for fun.

Just for you and the 43 people who consistently watched your Stories.

“My daughter has a type, apparently. Should I be concerned?? #momlife #chaoskid #toddlertalk”

You hit “post to TikTok,” shut your laptop, turned off the light, and fell asleep with a smile still tugging at your lips.

You woke up to your phone screaming.

Buzz after buzz after buzz, your screen lighting up like it was fighting for its life.

Messages. Notifications. Mentions. DMs. A missed call from Megan.

Megs 🍓: WHY IS YOUR FACE ON MY FYP AND WHY DOES YOUR KID WANT U TO MARRY JAY

HeeseungReacts: not the toddler having more confidence than me 😭

sunoo.glow: this is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen I’m sobbing

Your eyes widened as you tapped open the TikTok app.

And then you froze.

463.7k likes.

Over 2.1 million views.

“DUETED BY: JayDoesLife”

You blinked. Refreshed. Blinked again.

“WHAT.”

You scrambled upright in bed, covers flying, heart hammering in your chest like it was trying to burst out and sprint into the hallway. You opened the duetted video with shaking hands.

The split screen began.

Left side: Naelle, proudly declaring Jay as your future husband.

Right side: Jay himself — messy-haired, hoodie-wearing, sitting cross-legged in what looked like a sunlit kitchen, watching the video with a slow-building smile.

When Naelle finished her declaration, he tilted his head and smirked.

“She’s got taste. And apparently a plan.” He held up a juice box like a toast. “Tell her I’ll bring the snacks.”

The video ended with him laughing into his sleeve, eyes crinkling like he’d just witnessed the best thing all week.

You screamed into your pillow.

Not metaphorically at the happiness, but literally at the stress of this newfound fame.

You stumbled into the kitchen on autopilot, phone still in your hand, Naelle’s sock half-stuck to your pajama pants. You opened the fridge, stared at the oat milk like it held answers, then slowly turned back to your phone.

The comments were blowing up.

This child is my new favorite matchmaker 😭

Jay and Y/N better collab. For the sake of the child. And also my sanity.

You better wife him up for all of us.

WAIT HE KNOWS YOU??? WHAT’S GOING ON????

You groaned, flopping face-first onto the kitchen table.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to go viral. You were a mom. You made simple, unedited vlogs with soft music and bad lighting and the occasional existential monologue while folding baby socks. You weren’t someone who had celebrities responding to your daughter like they were taking her seriously.

Naelle wandered in half-asleep, hair fluffed and eyes squinting against the kitchen light.

“Mommy?”

You sat up fast. “Hey, baby. Want breakfast?”

She nodded, yawning dramatically. “Did you marry Jay yet?”

You dropped your forehead back onto the table.

You weren’t sure what kind of morning it was supposed to be, only that your stomach felt half-full of butterflies and half-full of dread. There was something about the way the air sat in the apartment — heavy with anticipation and faintly smelling like lemon cleaner — that made you feel like the walls themselves were waiting for something, too.

Naelle was sitting in the corner of the living room, cross-legged in her too-small ballerina tutu, gently humming a tune she was clearly making up on the spot. She cradled her plush unicorn in her lap like a sleeping baby, brushing its tangled pink mane with the tiny plastic fork from last night’s takeout box.

Her cereal sat untouched on the coffee table, milk slowly turning warm in the bowl while the marshmallow shapes dissolved into colorless clouds. You couldn’t blame her. Your own mug of coffee had been reheated three times and was still going cold beside your laptop.

Your phone, however, refused to be ignored.

Every ten minutes — sometimes less — it buzzed with another ping, another notification, another message from someone who’d seen the video. They were strangers, acquaintances, even people from high school you hadn’t spoken to in years, all asking the same question in varying degrees of shock:

“Was that really Jay from YouTube?”

The answer, maddeningly, was yes.

You hadn’t expected it. Not the duet. Not the numbers. And certainly not the spiral it triggered inside your chest every time you checked your notifications.

It had been cute at first — the way people reacted to Naelle’s voice, the way they replayed her words like she was a tiny oracle. But then came the edits, the tweets, the mutuals messaging you things like “YOU’RE LIVING MY DREAM,” and the comment threads analyzing your laugh and trying to match your kitchen backsplash to your exact address.

What started as funny quickly became overwhelming, and what was once overwhelming soon felt like being caught in a wave you weren’t ready to ride.

So, when your inbox pinged with a new message titled “jaydoeslife.collab@gmail.com,” your hands went cold before you even clicked.

✉️ From: imnayeon@jaydoeslife.net

Subject: Let’s talk — Jay x Y/N Collab?

Hi Y/N,

I’m Nayeon — Jay Park’s manager. Jay saw your video (as you probably already guessed), and to say he was charmed would be an understatement. He hasn’t stopped talking about your daughter or the phrase “pancakes and babysitting” since it went up. We were wondering if you’d be open to filming a casual, family-friendly collaboration. Something like “YouTuber Babysits for a Day” or “Toddler Teaches the YouTuber Life.” Very relaxed. Very wholesome. We’ll keep it simple and easy.

Of course, no pressure at all — if it doesn’t feel right, we completely understand. But Jay would love the chance to meet you both, and I’ll make sure everything runs smoothly.

xo,

Im Nayeon

You read the message three times, then a fourth just to make sure it hadn’t somehow changed while you were blinking.

The first time, your eyes skimmed it in disbelief, your brain unable to process the words in any meaningful order. The second time, you clutched your mug like it might anchor you to the earth while reading it aloud under your breath. The third time, you paced the kitchen like a CEO preparing for a scandal press release, whispering, “It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine,” even though it was clearly not fine.

Naelle, who had been watching you from her booster seat with growing suspicion, finally asked the obvious.

“Is something happening?”

You paused mid-step, your voice pitched too high. “…Maybe.”

Her spoon hung frozen in the air, a soggy star-shaped marshmallow dripping from its edge. “Are we famous now?”

You stared at her, equal parts horrified and impressed. “What would you even do with fame?”

She shrugged with the exaggerated nonchalance only a four-year-old could pull off. “Make everyone wear matching pajamas forever.”

You pressed a hand to your chest and let out a quiet laugh, half-choked and entirely overwhelmed. Of course that would be her plan.

You typed out a reply with fingers that wouldn’t stop shaking. You read it seven times before sending it, then stared at your outbox like the message might crawl back out and bite you.

Nayeon responded within an hour, bubbly and to-the-point, as if this was the easiest thing in the world and you weren’t currently spiraling in a hoodie that had toothpaste on the sleeve. She confirmed that Jay was free this weekend and proposed a filming date — this Saturday, at your place.

The reasoning was sound: “Naelle seems most comfortable in her home environment,” Nayeon had written, followed by a winking emoji and the phrase “We want this to be fun, not a production.”

But when you read the part that said “Saturday”, your whole body tensed.

That was two days away. You may have actually gasped — a sharp, small sound that echoed against the fridge door.

What followed could only be described as panic-fueled preparation. You didn’t just clean the house. You purged it. You reorganized toy bins and folded couch blankets like your life depended on it. You vacuumed in corners that hadn’t seen daylight in months. You mopped under furniture you forgot you owned.

You even Febrezed the ceiling.

“Mommy,” Naelle asked gently from the couch, surrounded by a pile of stuffed animals she’d arranged like a medieval council. “Why are you cleaning the air?”

You paused mid-spray, caught with your arm extended toward the light fixture.

“I’m not.”

“You’re vacuuming the ceiling.”

You looked down at the hose in your hand. “…Okay, maybe a little.”

By Friday evening, the anxiety had softened into a strange, itchy hum beneath your skin — something between dread and excitement, like your body couldn’t quite decide which it preferred. Jay wasn’t a stranger anymore, not really, not after watching hours of his soft-spoken baking vlogs and plant updates and chaotic Q&As.

But it wasn’t just about Jay anymore.

The internet had been let in. The curtain had been pulled back. And you were starting to realize your quiet, safe, slow-moving world had been shifted ever so slightly out of orbit — all because your daughter had declared you were destined to marry a pancake-making YouTuber.

You stared at the outfit you’d picked out and hated it.

Then stared at the backup outfit and hated that too.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Megan right as you were mid-spiral.

you: what if he’s weird

megs🍒: babe he’s literally famous for talking to plants and baking banana bread. ur fine.

megs🍒: also pls wear the cream tank top it makes you look hot

You made a strangled sound, threw your phone onto the bed, and yanked the sweater off the hanger.

At 10:14 a.m. on the dot, your doorbell rang.

Naelle let out a squeal that could’ve shattered glass and launched herself off the couch before you could catch her. Her socks slid across the hardwood as she ran full-speed toward the door, shouting, “I GOT IT!!” like it was the most important moment of her life.

You panicked.

“No no no — wait, Naelle, don’t—!”

But she had already flung the door open with both hands, no hesitation, no filter.

And there he was.

Jay. Standing in your doorway. Holding two coffee cups in one hand and a juice box in the other. His hair was slightly tousled like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times, and his hoodie was just oversized enough to make him look unfairly approachable.

Slung over his shoulder was a tote bag that said “This Bag Contains Crumbs” in tiny font. His smile was soft and almost bashful.

“Hey,” he said, looking from your wide-eyed face to your daughter’s radiant one. “I brought caffeine… and juice for the little.”

He held out the juice box like a peace offering.

Naelle snatched it with a delighted gasp and ran off without another word.

You just stood there, blinking.

“…Hi,” you said, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

And then, as if the moment wasn’t already surreal enough, another figure stepped forward into the doorway.

Nayeon.

She looked like a magazine ad in human form — hair in soft waves, makeup delicate but perfect, outfit pressed without a single wrinkle. She carried a tablet in one hand and a matcha latte in the other, and somehow managed to make standing in your hallway feel like an entrance.

“You must be Y/N,” she said with a warm smile, her tone light but unmistakably polished. “Thank you so much for letting us invade your Saturday. Jay’s been very excited.”

You swallowed.

“Of course,” you said, stepping aside as they entered. “Come in.”

It dropped at exactly 7:32 p.m.

Jay didn’t even warn you.

You had just finished cleaning up from dinner — a lazy post-collab meal of boxed mac and cheese and frozen peas Naelle insisted on arranging into the shape of a flower — when your phone lit up with three notifications at once.

jaydoeslife just posted: “the best pancakes i’ve ever had (ft. the real boss)”

megs🍒: OH MY GOD YOU’RE IN IT

megs🍒: U LOOK SO HOT STOP IT

You blinked at the screen for a full ten seconds before unlocking it with trembling fingers. You didn’t even hesitate — you tapped Jay’s thumbnail, heart pounding, and the video bloomed across your phone.

There it was. Your living room. Your couch.

Your daughter — front and center, wearing her princess tiara and a syrup stain on her cheek, beaming at the camera like she was born to be adored by strangers.

And Jay, beside her, soft and charming and very clearly letting her lead.

“Today, I’m here with the one, the only—”

“NAELLE!! And he’s the assistant.”

You covered your face with one hand. “Oh my God,” you whispered.

The video was chaos in the most charming way.

Naelle narrating the entire recipe in a tone that alternated between fairy queen and exhausted teacher. Jay obediently following every instruction, even when she made him twirl before flipping the pancakes. You, visible in the background once or twice, mug in hand and surprisingly nonchalant despite falling apart internally.

Nayeon had edited it with surgical precision — cutting just enough to keep the pace, but leaving in every unfiltered, heart-tugging, wildly chaotic moment. The lighting was soft. The sound was crisp. The whole thing felt like a rom-com scene you didn’t realize you were starring in until the credits rolled.

And then came the part you’d secretly dreaded.

“I want you to marry Mommy.”

You closed your eyes. You could hear your own breath catch in the background. You could see Jay’s blush in high definition.

“I didn’t know this was a hostage situation,” he joked.

But something in his voice, in the way his eyes flicked toward where you stood just offscreen — it didn’t sound like he hated the idea.

Naelle watched the video twice on the iPad, laughing louder each time she heard her own voice. She asked to watch it again, and you only said no because the comments were already flooding in and your stomach was twisting into unfamiliar shapes.

i’d trust naelle with my life

this is giving SINGLE MOM LOVE STORY ENERGY???!!!

naelle: iconic. jay: soft. y/n: nonchalant dreadhead. me: crying.😭😭❤️

i didn’t come here to catch FEELINGS but here we are.

naelle’s right. marry her. pancakes are serious.

You refreshed the page again. The views were rising so fast it felt unreal. Thousands. Then tens of thousands. Then more. Your face — your home — was in front of the entire internet.

And somehow, instead of panic, there was something warm blooming in your chest. Like maybe this wasn’t a mistake after all.

At 8:04 p.m., your phone buzzed again.

jay

okay confession

i’ve rewatched the last minute like five times

naelle is the star

but i think you stole the scene

You stared at the message for so long the screen dimmed.

Then lit up again.

if this is too much too fast, tell me

but i’d really like to see you again

even if there’s no pancake making involved

You didn’t answer right away. Not because you didn’t know what to say, but because you wanted to hold onto the moment. That quiet flutter. The way your cheeks felt flushed for reasons that had nothing to do with the trending tab.

In the hallway, Naelle had fallen asleep on the beanbag chair, still wearing her tiara.

The apartment smelled like pancakes and shampoo and something new you didn’t quite have words for yet.

At 8:11 p.m., you finally texted back.

you:

maybe next time, i’ll make the pancakes

you just bring yourself

And just like that, it wasn’t just a collab anymore.

It was the beginning of something real.

The knock came just as you were finishing dinner — the kind of knock that was too deliberate to be a delivery or a neighbor dropping by. You peeked through the peephole, and there he was: Jay, standing on your doorstep, hands in the pockets of his jacket, looking like he’d rehearsed what to say a thousand times but still wasn’t sure.

You swallowed the rush of nerves and opened the door.

“Hey,” he said softly, offering a small smile that made your heart skip in the most inconvenient way. “I thought I’d drop by. No cameras. No plans. Just me.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “You came back.”

“Yeah,” he said, stepping inside like he belonged. “I wanted to see you… and Naelle. Maybe bring that pancake recipe back for round two.”

Naelle, who had been playing quietly with her dolls in the living room, suddenly appeared at your side, eyes wide and hopeful.

“Are we having pancakes again? Can I put the tiara on you?”

Jay crouched down, grinning. “Only if you promise to let me be the prince this time.”

You watched them, their easy laughter filling the room like a melody you didn’t want to end.

From the kitchen, Nayeon appeared, clipboard in hand, her expression softer than usual.

“Looks like the collaboration’s turned into something a little more,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

You nodded, feeling the warmth spread through you — the kind that comes from realizing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

You weren’t sure what you expected when Jay returned without a camera crew, without Nayeon, and without any kind of structured plan — but it wasn’t this.

It wasn’t him sitting barefoot on your floor, cross-legged on the rug, helping Naelle build a cardboard castle with a roll of tape and two empty paper towel tubes. It wasn’t him showing up with a tote bag that was his own merch and pulling out not just snacks, but a miniature potted plant he said he “couldn’t bear to leave alone.”

It wasn’t how easy it was. Or how quiet it felt, in the most dangerous way.

There was something about having him here — without the internet watching, without the performance — that made the walls of your apartment feel closer, warmer. Like your space had expanded to make room for someone new, and your heart had followed suit without your permission.

Naelle had declared it a “pajamas-only evening,” and you hadn’t fought her on it. You’d changed into an old crewneck and leggings. Jay had dutifully accepted the Hello Kitty pajama pants she offered him — they barely reached his ankles, but he wore them anyway.

“I look like a cursed sleepover,” he’d said, deadpan.

Naelle laughed so hard she fell backward onto a pillow.

The hours passed slowly, but comfortably.

At one point, Jay was reading a picture book aloud, doing ridiculous voices for each character while Naelle giggled into your shoulder. At another, he helped her draw a stick-figure comic strip titled “JAY GETS ATTACKED BY PANCAKES”, which she said was based on a true story.

And then, around 8:43 p.m., she yawned.

The kind of yawn that meant it was time.

She fought sleep with every ounce of her dramatic flair, claiming she had “emails to write” and “royal princess meetings” to attend. But you scooped her up anyway, carried her to her room while she mumbled about syrup kingdoms and declared that “Jay needs to come every Friday or else.”

You kissed her goodnight. She was out before the door clicked shut.

When you returned to the living room, the cardboard castle was still mid-construction, but Jay had cleaned up the stray crayons and gathered the glitter into a neat pile like he’d lived here for years.

He looked up when you entered — eyes soft, posture easy, that familiar warmth radiating from him like he didn’t know how not to give it.

And just like that, the silence felt different.

Not awkward. Not heavy.

But charged.

You sat beside him on the floor, your legs stretched out next to his, your knees almost — but not quite — brushing.

“She really likes you,” you said, your voice quiet and unguarded.

Jay glanced toward the hallway where her nightlight glowed faintly through the cracked door. “I really like her,” he said, then added, softer, “I really like you too.”

You didn’t answer right away.

You let the words hang there — heavy but not unwelcome, like rainclouds you weren’t afraid of.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” you finally said, truth resting in every syllable. “Not with a kid. Not online. Not with someone who has… a million people watching.”

Jay nodded. “Me neither. But then you posted that video. And she said that thing about pancakes. And suddenly everything else felt… smaller.”

He wasn’t looking at you when he said it. He was staring at the edge of the cardboard tower, fingers absentmindedly smoothing a wrinkle in the paper like he needed something to ground him.

You looked at him.

Really looked.

And saw not the curated YouTube version of Jay, not the viral softness or camera-ready charm, but the quiet steadiness beneath it all. The patience. The kindness. The part of him that didn’t just show up, but stayed.

So you reached over slowly, carefully, and placed your hand over his.

It was small. Barely a touch.

But it was real.

And when he turned to you, gaze full of something tentative and open and terrifyingly honest, you didn’t pull away.

“I’m not good at letting people in,” you said, barely above a whisper. “But she already let you in. And I think… maybe I want to, too.”

Jay swallowed, his eyes locked on yours. “Then let me in.”

You ended up on the couch, shoulder to shoulder under a fleece blanket, the credits of a movie neither of you had really watched rolling in the background. At some point, Jay had fallen asleep, his head tilted toward yours, breath soft and even.

You should’ve moved.

But you didn’t.

Because for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel alone. And more than that — you didn’t want to be.

It started small.

A tweet here, a blurry photo there, a comment under one of Jay’s older videos, timestamped and laced with a quiet kind of suspicion.

That couch looks familiar.

Wait… is that the same hoodie from the pancake video??

Not me matching the floor lamp to Y/N’s apartment tour two years ago???

It hadn’t even been 24 hours since Jay had left your place — hoodie rumpled, hair a mess, a faint outline of Naelle’s glitter sticker still stuck to his cheek. He hadn’t filmed anything. He hadn’t posted. But still, they knew.

The internet always knows.

You didn’t notice the full storm until you woke up to 17 texts from Megan.

megs🍒

babe you’re trending

again.

i repeat. AGAIN!!!!!

“mommy’s friend jay” is a THING now

like people are shipping it.

people are writing headcanons.

i think someone’s writing fanfiction. i hate this. i also love this?

AND HE POSTED A PICTURE

You blinked blearily at the screen, one eye open, thumb trembling as you tapped Jay’s account. His newest post was simple:

A blurry shot of a stack of child-sized pancakes on a plastic princess plate.

With the caption: “love looks like syrup and glitter these days.”

Your stomach dropped in the most ridiculous, fluttering kind of way. He hadn’t tagged you. He hadn’t said your name. But the internet didn’t need names to connect dots.

Naelle was humming in the bathroom, brushing her teeth with the door wide open and one sock on, completely unbothered by her sudden viral fame.

You, however, were pacing your kitchen barefoot, scrolling through tagged posts and trying not to panic.

There were clips of the collab spliced with dramatic music. Edits of you and Jay with fake wedding captions. Tweets that read:

I don’t believe in love but I believe in Jay falling for a single mom.

Y/N is the new mother of the internet. Respectfully.

If he doesn’t look at me like Jay looks at her mid-pancake flip, I don’t want it.

📞 nayeon im is calling…

You stared at the screen for two full rings before you answered, voice tight with nerves.

“Hi.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Nayeon said smoothly, her tone clipped but not cold. “Don’t worry — I’m not here to lecture you.”

That was somehow worse.

You sank into the kitchen chair, rubbing your forehead. “How bad is it?”

There was a pause on the other end, followed by the soft sound of her sipping something expensive.

“Let’s just say… Jay trending with the word mommy isn’t exactly what I had in this month’s content plan.”

You let out a strangled laugh.

“I knew this might happen,” you said, quieter now. “But I didn’t think it would happen this fast.”

“Well,” Nayeon replied, “you made the mistake of being emotionally available and extremely pretty on camera. That’s on you.”

You groaned into your hands. “What do we do?”

Another pause. Then her voice softened just a little.

“Jay’s an adult. You’re not under contract. This isn’t a scandal. It’s just… complicated. If it makes you feel any better, he hasn’t stopped talking about you since he got back.”

You froze.

“What?”

“I’m not repeating it,” Nayeon said quickly, but her smile was obvious in her voice. “Just… take a breath, Y/N. If this is something real, then it’ll hold. Whether the internet’s watching or not.”

You let the words settle around you like warm tea — comforting and slightly dangerous.

That night, after Naelle had fallen asleep under a mountain of stuffed animals and you were curled up on the couch with your laptop closed and your phone silenced, you received one last message.

jay

if this gets too loud, i’ll turn it down

i like you in the quiet too

And that was when you knew.

It wasn’t just a crush. It wasn’t just a viral moment. You were falling. Slowly, steadily. Quietly. But absolutely.

Saturday came faster than you thought it would. The morning began with a glitter explosion. Not metaphorically, literally. Naelle had somehow gotten into her craft bin before breakfast and decided that the only way to properly honor “the ceremony of true love and sparkles” was by tossing an entire packet of pink and silver glitter across the hallway carpet. You found her kneeling in the middle of it, like a priestess summoning something sacred.

“I’m making a magical aisle,” she said solemnly. “You’re not allowed to vacuum it until after the vows.”

You didn’t argue because somehow — this was happening.

Jay showed up just before noon, holding a bouquet of sunflowers wrapped in brown paper and a pack of apple juice boxes he called “offering gifts.” He wore a crown Naelle had made out of pipe cleaners and construction paper, perched crookedly on his head, and a button-down that was just wrinkled enough to prove he hadn’t tried too hard… but had definitely tried.

“You look,” you said, pausing in the doorway as he entered, “like someone who got roped into a royal toddler wedding and is pretending not to love it.”

Jay smiled at you, eyes warm. “I do love it.”

And somehow, he wasn’t talking about the glitter.

The living room had been transformed — pillow aisles, stuffed animals lined up like guests, and a tiara-clad Naelle officiating with a plastic microphone that didn’t work. There were vows, of course. Hers.

“Do you promise to make pancakes and not forget syrup ever again?”

“Do you promise to share all your blankies and hug when she looks sad?”

“Do you promise to like her even when she’s grumpy and says bad words quietly in the kitchen?”

You laughed. Jay nodded, solemn and sure.

“I do,” he said, looking only at you.

When it was your turn, you expected to stumble — to laugh it off or overthink every word.

But Jay leaned in, gently taking your hands in his, and whispered, “You don’t have to say anything rehearsed. Just say what’s real.”

So you did.

You looked at him — this sweet, slightly awkward, thoughtful man who’d stumbled into your world like a misdelivered letter — and said, voice quieter than it should’ve been,

“I didn’t think anyone would ever want all of this. The mess, the mornings, the tiny human, the glitter. But you showed up. Again and again. And you made it feel like… I’m not just surviving anymore. I’m allowed to want things. And I want this.”

Jay didn’t say anything.

He just looked at you — really looked — like he was memorizing every word. Every curve of your mouth. Every inch of the space between you that didn’t feel so wide anymore.

Naelle clapped.

“And now you KISS!”

You froze.

Jay blinked.

Naelle tilted her head. “You have to. Or it’s not official.”

You let out a soft laugh, but something in your chest tightened. You looked back at Jay, unsure whether to lean in or laugh it off — until you saw him swallow, saw his hand twitch once like he wanted to reach for your face.

So you nodded.

Just once.

And that was enough.

He leaned in slowly, almost carefully, like he was asking every second if you still wanted this. His hand brushed your cheek, fingers warm and steady, and when your eyes fluttered shut, he closed the space.

The kiss was gentle. Unrushed. Real.

It wasn’t fireworks — it was softer than that. It was a sigh into warm skin. It was the kind of kiss that didn’t ask for more, just promised that this moment, this connection, was safe.

Jay pulled back first, only by a breath, and looked at you like he couldn’t believe he’d just done that and also like he couldn’t believe he hadn’t done it sooner.

You couldn’t help smiling.

Neither could he.

Naelle threw confetti.

You ended up on the floor later — tangled in blankets, plastic rings on your fingers, Jay’s head resting against your shoulder while Naelle drew hearts all over his arm in washable marker.

Nayeon showed up an hour later with coffee and a camera, pausing in the doorway when she saw you like that. Like a family.

She didn’t say anything, only smiled and snapped a picture. Jay didn’t blink and you didn’t flinch because this wasn’t pretend anymore.

This was how it started.

[hoonieangel]

so good i forgot that i used to be a harmonizer back in the day, i loved miss moving on!

MISS MOVING ON

synopsis › lee heeseung was tormenting your life even post break up, in interacting with you on twittter or his irritating friends on your ass but have you really moved on? OR in which heeseung thinks his ex is over him but really you arent.

pairing › heeseung x fem!reader

starring › enha hyung line, ningning and giselle of aespa, and chaewon of lsfm (side characters): beomgyu and yeonjun of txt, yeji of itzy, enha maknae line, natty of kiof.

genre › smau (social media au), fluff, crack, angst (if u squint), emotional cheating?, drinking, mentions of weed, exes to lovers, partying, mental health issues, slighty suggestive, cursing, and more.

status › completed (11/03/2024 - 01/02/2025)

playlist › miss movin on - fifth harmony. everytime - ariana grande. talk talk - charli xcx. get him back! - olivia rodrigo. boyfriend - ariana grande. bloodline - ariana grande.

taglist 1 › @leeechin @00kittenz @hmusunoo.. and more. 50/50 CLOSED!!

taglist 2 › 25/25 CLOSED!!

to join my perma taglist for ALL my works click here

a/n › HAII pshbites is back with another smau MUAHA not much else to say except just enjoy!

"think i should text my ex" - roses by jaehyun

yn fanclub & most annoying & nyu npcs

1) violation of bro code section 420.69

2) starts with h ends with g?

3) your WHAT?

4) top ten anime betrayals

5) func at sims

6) do instead of did

7) i hurd i was cancel

8) nepo babies found in the wild

9) quick scramble lame for me!

10) a WICKED reference

11) THE CROWD IS ... walking away

12) mission: HEEYN.

13) simsfunc christmas party

14) free bird

15) closure

16) mission = completed

17) heeseung haters unite

18) my boyf is a hamster

19) yn office siren era

20) mrs. moved on

© all rights to pshbites 2024

[hoonieangel]

so good!!

THE SPACE BETWEEN HEARTBEATS Y.JW

synopsis: He made you a promise, no matter where the stars led him he would always return home to you. Sometimes fate tests promises and the stars don’t always align how you planned. 365 days, thats how long he’d been stranded. A year of aimlessly drifting through space, confined to the infinite stretch of stars and sky. Nothing there but time and distance, distance that keeps him awake at night for the heart-wrenching fact of knowing that it kept him from you. Lightyears away from the one he loved, and your intertwined fates were left at the unpredictable will of space. Your hearts that once beat as one, were miles apart an unspeakable space between them.

log: yang jungwon & fem!rea ⋆♱✮ fluff/angst 16k wc ༯ contains! non idol enhypen. astronaut jungwon ꫂ Ot7───★˙nainais library !!

℘an᭪ : I’ve been sitting on this fic for quite some time now, and its one of my favorite tropes out of all that I’ve written so far so I hope you guys enjoy this one. This fic truly does mean the world to me and it's the first time that i've written something this long. I really put my heart into this one and after weeks of bouncing back and forth between this and chrome hearts i'm finally done. Special thank you to @heesmiles and @filmsbyun for helping me with title ideas.

warnings: suicide jokes, mentions of death, panic attacks & depressive episodes

📼 PLAY ME

INTERLUDE

You were used to the sound of his heartbeat, a consistent melodic thump against his chest that synchronized with your own when you touched. Every hug, every kiss, fingers tracing skin, nights spent entrapped in the sheets speaking soft whispers while legs intertwined, your hearts had always beat as one. Interpersonal Synchronization that’s what they called it— the phenomenon where two individual hearts align. Just like the stars, yours and Jungwons heartbeats had always been synced from the early stages of childhood friendship to, to the early stages of your marriage. Two different souls intertwined and bound to one another linked by their unconditional love for each other.

From the moment Jungwons eyes found you amongst all of the other kids he’d known right then and there he would be the one to love you until death parted you. Seven years old when he found you sitting beneath a tree on the playground, book in your lap— the way you read while absent mindedly picking at the grass and flowers beneath you had fascinated him then. if anyone else had seen it they'd say it was nothing special, you loved to read? So did hundreds of others…you loved flowers?? So did other girls. You were a simple girl, quiet, well kept, intelligent for your age, maybe even more than him and while most would find that threatening or intimidating it only made his admiration for you grow.

He’d start to pick up on small things you did, the way you nervously fiddled with your uniform skirt when anxious, straightening your lashes with your fingers or twirling them in your shirt when you were deeply immersed. Never found without a book in your hands, a social butterfly but for the most part you seemed to favor being alone. Sweet soft-spoken girl who was intelligent beyond comparison yet shied away whenever she was assigned presentations, or chose to do citations in front of the class. The girl who’s eyes lit up at the mention of her favorite things, who stared at with fascination and curiosity swimming behind those eyes upon first meeting.

Then as the two of you grew older you had become more confident, more sure of yourself. Still that sweet and attentive girl he’d always known just grown up now, more secure in who she was. The girl that never took no for an answer, scolded him whether he was right or wrong, always spoke up for the things she was passionate about. The girl he realized that he would truly give the moon and the stars if he could capture them in his hands.

The moment his fate became intertwined with your own he vowed to never let you go even before marriage vows were exchanged at the altar. Sixteen years old, the two of you had stayed out past the setting sun, long enough to see the moon take its place. You were fast asleep on his shoulder while watching the stars and he whispered his sacred vow to take care of you for as long as he lived, like the stars in the sky you were precious to him. An unspoken promise to you of being kept, no matter how long time dragged on or how far apart the two of you were he would always return to you.

A promise that would be broken years later, not by him but by fate, by the unpredictability of space and its undying will to keep the two of you apart. Hearts no longer in sync, no longer aligned due to the distance between the two, the distance between your heartbeats.

THE SPACE BETWEEN HEARTBEATS

“Count the stars backwards then forwards, by the time the last star is accounted for I’ll be home, i'll always come back to you” - yjw

In the empty living room you sat, dark circles beneath your eyes as you listened to the soft ticking of the clock, eyes trained on staring at the starful sky then the pictures on the wall that once gave comfort—- now they just haunted you. This had become a routine if yours, forcing yourself to stay awake until you were on the verge of chronic insomnia. You wouldn’t dare sleep, couldn’t, not when he was out there, not when you’d gone so long staying up late nights waiting for him to walk through those doors, for him to return to you.

July 16th 2024 that was when you heard the news, fingers trembling, thoughts sent awry, you were forced to come to grasps with the fact that the love of your life wasn’t coming home. Words through the phone slipped through one ear and out the other as they explained it to you. A bunch of technical bullshit that seemed not so important at the time of being told because the only important detail that mattered was your husband, the man you’d loved since eleven years old was stranded in space. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and nights after. Your friends and family tried their best to reassure you that he was okay, that they’d find him and he’d come walking through that door just like he had after every other trip. But it's been a year since then and you were starting to find it hard to come to grasp with the fact that he may have been long gone.

A year, a year of uncontrollable tears and forcing yourself to get out of bed for work and errand runs. You were on autopilot, a continuous get up and go that couldn’t be ceased until you knew he was okay, until you knew he’d be coming home but so much time had gone by and you heard nothing. Not one update on his whereabouts or if they were even searching to bring him home, and maybe that was your own fault. You’d shut out his friends and coworkers, you avoided every tabloid with the mention of his name. Not that you didn't want to know it was just too painful to be aware, painful to know that the distance between you and him was unattainable. You had never felt so alone without him, but the worst feeling was knowing that he was truly alone. Drifting through the silence of space with no company other than the stars and the moon— the same moon that you begged to bring him home safely with every passing night.

A knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts, forcing you to look away from the pictures of Jungwon long enough to see your best friend push open the door and come inside.

“Sheesh you have it so cold in here.” He shivers as he makes his way into the kitchen setting down a handful of grocery bags.

“I told you you didn’t have to come by today's bin.” You respond, exhaust evident in your tone as you reaffirm the words you’d previously spoken to him.

Soobin simply brushes off your words as he shuffles to put away all of your newly supplied groceries and pre cooked meals. He, Beomgyu and Taehyun had spent hours cooking for you— while also arguing who’d be the one to bring it to you. “You tell me a lot of things but we both know I’m not known for my listening skills.”

A slight smile curls onto your lips as you let out a lighthearted laugh. You were truly grateful for Soobin and the others for being the ones to make you smile on days where you find it hard to ever live.

“Should have known better I guess.” You respond softly, pushing yourself up off the couch and joining him in the kitchen.

“Yes you should have.” He responds with a cheeky smile as he puts away the last of the groceries. You weren’t sure what to say at that moment but the silence was killing. You were tethering between wanting to say thank you and apologize to him for being a burden, but knowing Soobin he’d try to shut both down immediately, telling you the same thing he always did “that’s what friends are for.”

“What did you bring today?” You ask, the words coming out fainter than intended as you rest your head on your palms.

“Taehyun made bentos, Beomgyu made you a pasta bread bowl, and I went to a simple kimchi jjigae. There's rice in the cabinet when you’re ready for it.” He sets out each dish before you as he lists them out, laying your choices out as if he were waiting for you to decide so that he could make sure you were eating properly. “Thank you Binnie, it means a lot that all of you go out of your way for me like this. I wish I could..that I could repay you.” Soobin sucks his teeth at your gratitude, you were sure he wanted to tell you there was no need to continuously thank him but he held back.

It was obvious to him that you were tired, he was no stranger to the way your lifestyle had changed since getting the news about Jungwon. You’d stopped going into your shop, started eating and sleeping less, and often when you finally did sorry your schedule was completely fucked. Most of your days were starting to blend into one, a long continuous day of counting hours, minutes and seconds waiting to talk to the moon again.

“So..did you talk to any of them today?” He questions, a little hesitance in his tone as if he were walking on eggshells asking this.

“No.” You respond, blunt and straight to the point. No reason to lie or come up with excuses as to why you hadn’t spoken to any of them because he knew why.

“Yn you can’t shut them out, I know they were closer to him than they were to you but they care for you too, and i’m sure they’ve been hurting just as much over this as you have.” He responds, trying his best to convince you without overstepping.

“Soobin I really don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“Then when? It’s been a year and you haven’t spoken a word about him but everyone knows you miss him. You don’t sleep, barely eat unless someone's looking over your shoulder, you’ve stopped going into the book store and you’ve been avoiding all of the people that care about you, you can’t hold it in it’s been a year. You have to talk about it, about him.” The silence that lingered between the two of you was loud and painful, but you weren’t sure what to say. Soobin was right, he was always right but you weren’t ready to accept the inevitable. You didn’t want your mind to linger on the what ifs or maybes.

Soobin sighs, resting his palms against the counter as he watches you searching your brain for the right words to say that could get you out of this conversation. “yn if you won’t talk to any of us then maybe you should see someone? A professional that can actually help, actually tell you how to cope.”

“You mean a therapist. Pay someone to sit and listen to my problems that I know can’t fix my heart. Can a therapist bring him back home to me? Can a therapist make up for a year of lost time with the man I desperately have been wanting to see since I got that call?” Soobins lips press into a thin line and he goes silent. He knew the conversation would go this way, it always had, but as much as he understood your pain he also understood that this was not healthy for you.

“And do you think Jungwon would be happy that this is how you’re choosing to live? Do you think he’d be happy knowing that his wife— the woman he calls his star, is sitting at home shutting everyone out, crying alone, not eating or taking care of herself?” Soobins persistence was starting to annoy you, no matter how many times you’d told him you were fine he’d always made it a priority to pull the things out of you that you tried desperately to hide.

“He wouldn’t yn. And you know just as well as I do that whether he's 5 feet away or millions he’d agree with me on this. I’m not saying that you have to go and love it, hell if you go for a week and it doesn’t help the blame me and you never have to step foot in the place again but you can’t just let this build up. Please.” Your eyes searched for the smallest hint of him giving up, of him just letting this go and letting you continue to deal with it as you always had but he wasn’t giving up, not on you.

“One week bin, i'll go for one week.”

“Perfect because I already scheduled your first appointment before I got here.” He responds, turning around to put away the rest of your drive for tomorrow.

“fucker.” You mumble under your breath while turning to crawl back out the couch.

“I heard that, and I love you too.” You scrunch up your nose at him, giving a side eye of fake annoyance as you watched him heat up the bento for the two of you to share— because he knew you wouldn’t eat it all alone.

——

There was nothing or no one to keep him company and the silence had become tantalizing. Not a peep was heard throughout the entire place. Not the soft hum of an air conditioner, the ticking of the clock that once rang familiar in his ears, even the sound of the old creaky floor back home had been missed by him. Most of all he missed you, he missed your lips, your smile, your laugh, he missed resting his head against your chest and listening to the faint sound of your heartbeat, a sound he wasn’t sure he’d ever get to hear again at this point.

Jungwon had never been a pessimist, he was always certain that every failure made you come back two times better, every loss made you stronger, that no matter how tough life got it was sure to get better. He knew the grass was greener on the other side, it had to be, Right? He’d told himself that many times throughout his life, he convinced himself that he could fix anything, solve any problem if he just stayed positive but he couldn’t fix this, this was a problem that he couldn't solve, not on his own. He was alone, losing the little hope he had left, hope of getting back to you and holding you like none of this ever happened.

Every day for the past 365 days he’d wondered what you were doing, if you were okay or if you ever thought about him. He wondered if you were waiting for him, or if you’d moved on, found someone to love you in his absence and give you all the affection that he was so desperately missing from you. A sigh spills from his lips as he stares out the shuttle window, the same view he’d had for the past year now making him sick to his stomach rather than giving him a sense of security. The stars were dizzying, solemn because they were something he couldn’t escape. The one thing he’d always loved most in this world (other than you of course) was driving distance between the two of you.

“Riot thirteen this is Yang.” He hesitates for a moment, part of him still held onto the belief that someone would hear him, but the other part was losing faith. “I’m still here…if you can hear me…just…just tell yn that I love her, that I don’t know how or when but I’ll come home to her. I'll make sure that I get to her. If I’m going to breathe my last breath it won’t be here. It’ll be with her.” Silence, the other line was always silent. He was starting to wonder why he even tried.

The endless stretch of stars outlined by the swirls of purple and blue were becoming more haunting by the day. A reminder that hec remained trapped within the very place that once gave him comfort. He had never felt nervous or frightened when it came to his space adventures, mostly because he was always so sure he’d return to you. But here and now it was hard to choke back his nerves or fear that he just might not make it home to you, that you’d lost him without ever getting the chance to say goodbye.

You had been fast asleep when daylight broke, one of the scarcity of nights in which you had finally gone to sleep at a decent time. You didn’t know if it was the fatigue of crying yourself to sleep once soobin had gone or if he’d given you enough hope of getting better that aided in your decent slumber for once but you were thankful. It didn’t last though, you were woken up to the sound of curtains being drawn back and Soobin screaming an annoying wake up call.

“Rise and shine Bella, therapy awaits.” With an annoyed groan you stuff your face into your pillow to block out the sun.

“Five more minutes.” You grumble, Soobin immediately dismisses your words as they’re muffled due to your face being stuffed into the underside of your pillow.

“Five more minutes will turn into an hour with you, come on up.” Tearing the covers off of you he throws them aside, realizing you still weren’t making any moves he hoists himself up onto the bed and starts to jump. “Get upp, you promised you’d put in the effort for at least a week, time to get up Bella.”

“I'm starting to regret my decision.” You groan, finally pulling the pillow from your face and throwing it aside. “And who the hell is Bella?”

“Bella you know, twilight..? Remember how she got all sad and depressed when Edward left. She's just like you, that's literally you.” He explains, jumping down from your bed and dismissing the judgmental look you’d been giving him.

“You’re comparing my real life situation to a fictional vampire movie?? Gee thanks.”

“Get up, I told her we’d be there by 10, but i figured we could stop and get breakfast before hand because I know you wouldn’t eat otherwise.’’ He explains, while pulling the covers from the bed forcing you to get up.

“Okay I get it, if you don’t want me lying back down get out so I can get dressed.’’ you respond with a half smile as you chuck a pillow in his direction which he easily dodges. He gives you a silly salute before throwing the pillow back in its place on your bed and giving you privacy to get changed.

A sigh spills from your lips as you’re finally alone and your eyes drift to the empty side of the bed, his side. You can’t help but feel a pang in your chest as your gaze falls upon the empty bedside table that housed nothing but a stack of books and a photo of you and him– A photo the both of you had taken at the park when you first found out the news that he was working for NASA.

You had always known that Jungwon was determined to reach that goal, his love for astronomy and wonder for the stars and space had always shone bright since the two of you were kids. You loved how passionate he was about it , and you’d never ceased to encourage him to reach for the stars, you just never thought that the stars would be the thing that stole him away from you. Finally you climb out of bed, shuffling over to the window and drawing back the curtains to peep the snowfall through your frosted window. Weather that you once loved because you knew it meant he’d be home– wrapping you in his arms while the two of you watched the snowfall from the back windows. This didn’t feel as happy, didn’t feel as intimate, it just felt dull and empty.

You could hear Soobin rushing from the other side of the door as you finally release the curtain and shuffle over to the closet. Throwing on the first thing you saw because that was all you really had the energy to do, dressing up was starting to feel like more of a chore the longer your feelings began to consume your everyday life

—

The soft ticking of the clock makes anxiety bubble up in the pit of your stomach, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you take in the details of the room. A brightly lit room with subtle decor, yet it was enough for you to glimpse into what kind of person this therapist had been. Photos aligned the wall furthest from you, a proud display of who you assumed to be her family and friends. A large window to the opposite of it, giving you a clear view of the bustling city outside of those very walls. Bookshelves aligned with psychological analysis books, and knickknacks that made the room feel almost homelike. There was something warm and comforting about the room, like the therapist had not only decorated for themselves but for the comfort of her patients. As cozy as if it felt it made you no less nervous, after all you had never done anything like this before. Since Jungwon had left you found it hard to utter a word about your feelings, you yourself weren’t even sure what you’d been feeling most times. Some days you’d felt so much that it made your heart heavy; many nights you’d cry yourself to sleep, but there were also days where you felt so empty, like a hollow shell so fragile you were just waiting to break.

The click of the door lulls you from your thoughts, and the smell of fresh tea leaves and lavender invades your nostrils, your tired eyes now focus on the figure that had just entered the room. A tall slender woman, long black hair just below her shoulders, peach skin littered with freckles, and eyes that you couldn’t quite make out their color but you were sure they were a light hazel. She entered poised and pacific, a tray with a matching set of teacups and a marble teapot in her hands as she entered the room, steam rising from the pot as if the water was freshly boiled. She gives a comforting smile as she enters and sets the tray down, the kind of smile that a friend would give as if they’d known you for years and it felt comforting. You didn’t know if it was your surroundings, or the fact that she’d walked in so casually in her light blue sweater and white slacks, but it felt comforting, like going back home for the holidays and finding that your mother had brewed fresh coffee or tea just for you.

“I wasn’t sure what kind of tea you liked, so I settled for lavender.’’ She explains as she sets down the tray, her voice was soft and gentle, a fragile sound that didn’t break the ambience of the silent room, a voice that would lul one to sleep or wrap them in its comfort.

“That’s okay.’’ you respond, the volume of your voice a near whisper, as if you’d break the flow if you spoke too loud.

“Would you like some?’’ she asks, filling her own cup before hovering over the second cup on the tray, not pouring until you confirm.

“I’d love some thank you.��’ she fills your own cup before sliding it over to the table and taking a sip from her own cup with a soft hum. You expected the lingering silence to be awkward, almost overwhelming but it wasn’t. She didn’t watch you drink, didn’t force you to speak or rush you to gather your thoughts; she just let you sit in silence with her until you were finally ready to talk.

“I’m sorry.’’ you finally blurt out with a sigh, giving her an apologetic glance as you cupped the tea in your hands, enveloping its warmth. “I’ve just never done anything like this before. I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say..’’ you explain, fingers fiddling with the handle of the teacup.

“That’s alright, it’s only normal, we don’t have to rush into anything. I'd like for you to feel comfortable first before anything. I know it can’t be easy trying to convey your emotions to a complete stranger.’’ she gives an understanding nod before taking another sip of your tea, the interaction felt unfeigned, like she wasn’t just saying it to make you trust her enough to talk.

“I don’t know where to start..’’ she let out a breathy laugh, not because you found anything funny but because you felt burdensome, so many feelings consuming your thoughts yet you couldn’t bring yourself to voice a single one.

“Let’s start with how you’re feeling now.’’ you give her an unsure glance, to which she gives a reassuring nod, as if letting you know it was okay to feel, to be vulnerable for once instead of just acting like you were okay like you always tried to do with Soobin.

She observed the way you nervously fiddled with your fingers, how your pupils dilated almost as if you’d completely dissociated in that moment just to find the right words to say. She had seen it many times in her line of work, prominent in those that had made it a habit of suppressing their feelings. She had barely been in the room for longer than ten minutes, but she had easily sensed that you were someone who had a hard time expressing the way they felt.

“I don’t, I don’t really know how I feel. There's just this empty feeling lingering, like a silent forest devoid of joy or laughter, or sadness or anger. Like I'm broken most days. Sometimes I just sit on my bed and I stare at a wall trying to force myself to cry, to feel anything but it never works. I never shed a tear. Then there are days where my dejection completely consumes me and swallows me whole, like I've been dropped into the middle of the ocean and I'm sinking beneath the surface, struggling to breath or swim my way to the surface. Some days it feels so heavy, like i’m feeling so much its almost death-dealing.’’ your chest tightens as you’re able to finally verbalize how you’ve felt, the therapist just listens, she doesn’t interrupt or cease your verbalization she simply listens.

“I’ve tried, i’ve tried to force myself to be happy and to pull myself up when I fall, but it’s always short lived, When I start to think about Jungwon again, and how he must be alone…how I’ll never know what happened to him I fall apart.’’ finally you finish spilling your guts, and the room is silent again other than the ticking clock.

“Mm I see, because you’ve shut off those emotions so long, because you’re trying to force yourself to be happy again instead of grieving your body doesn’t know how to react. Anxiety, stress, depression..all symptoms of someone that's suppressed the way they feel for a long enough time that their brain doesn’t know what to make of it when they finally do feel. Sweetheart there's no time limit on grieving or mourning, you shouldn’t feel guilty for holding onto someone you love.’’ she pauses. “jungwon? He’s someone important to you?’’

“My husband, we’ve known each other for as long as I remember, married after college.’’ you explain, your throat tightening at the mention of time between the two of you.

“And now he’s?” she pauses, waiting for you to piece together the parts of your story she was unaware of, she figured that Jungwon was the root of these feelings, but she wouldn’t be quick to assume.

“He..well a year ago he left on a space trip for NASA, it was supposed to be a simple mission, test the air density and make records of it but he was supposed to come home after three days.’’ a lonely tear spilled down your cheek, as you recalled the events you’d tried so hard to shove down into the deepest depths of your memory. “A week passed, I tried not to be worried because sometimes his trips would often go over but then, then I got the call that they lost communications with him, they couldn’t reconnect with him, and they lost telemetry and command capabilities so they couldn’t- they lost all data about the spacecraft. They searched for months, tried to reestablish communication, they even sent more people out to search for him but.’’ you suck in a breath, trying to pull yourself together before you completely fall apart.

“It’s been a year, a year since then and I still don’t know if he’s okay or if he’ll ever come home. I don’t even know if he-’’ you pause and let out a shaky breath as if your mouth forbid you to say the words, your brain wanted to completely write off the idea of him being dead, of you having lost him completely.

“You’ve been holding onto the idea of closure.’’ she explains, placing a box of tissues onto the table and sliding it over to you.

“You’ve gotten no confirmation that the man you’ve known and loved your entire life is okay so your thoughts just keep drifting back to him and you aren’t able to move on. Until you get that closure your heart is always going to be a little heavy there's no way around it, but there are ways to distract yourself.’’ her words made you hopeful, she just sounded so sure, so confident in her craft that it gave you something to look forward to.

“I’ve tried everything, i’ve tried going back to work or going out with my friends again, i’ve spent so much time with my family but nothing has felt right without him here.’’

“Do you own a camera?” your brows draw together as you stare at her, confusion muddled all over your face. “A- a camera?’’

“I’m going to give you a task for the week until our next session, only if you decide to come back of course, I want you to channel your energy, and emotions into making logs. When you miss him, when you find yourself thinking about him I want you to grab your camera, or your phone and record something, whether it be a simple message for him or telling him about your day, you’ll make them as if the two of you are on a call. Not separated by space but as if he’s only halfway across the country listening to you talk about your day.’’ you weren’t sure how to respond, in that moment it sounded somewhat immaterial to the issue at hand. Up until this point every word that left her mouth felt credible, but you couldn’t bring yourself to believe that simply pressing a record on a camera and talking to yourself would help you feel any better.

When you left her office you were left feeling open and vulnerable, like someone had just seen right through you. Soobin stood outside as cheery as ever, leaning up against the car, arms crossed over one another as he waited for you to join him.

“Bella, where the hell have you been Loca?’’ he quotes to your annoyance, making you shake your head as you fight back a smile.

“You know you’re absolutely exasperating right? Your knowledge of this movie is completely unbearable.’’ you mumble, only getting a chuckle from him in response as he opens the door for you to get in.

“You love it though.’’ he gives you a cheeky smile while closing the passenger side door.

“So how did your first session go?’’ he questions, only glancing at you for a brief moment before returning his attention back to the road.

“It was okay.’’ you respond, watching as his lips press into a thin line.

“Only okay?’’

“Soobin it was therapy? What do you want me to say? Groundbreaking? Breathtaking?’’ you laugh, giving him a semi judgmental look. “It was refreshing I guess, I thought that it would be awkward but I felt relaxed, comfortable.’’

“Sooo will you go back.?’’ he questions, as if he’d been waiting to ask you that very question from the start.

“I’m not sure yet..’’ you pause, taking a moment to think over today's session as you stare out the window. “Oh that reminds me, before you take me home we need to stop at best buy.’’

“What could you possibly need from best buy?’’ his forehead creases and his eyes narrow in confusion at the sudden mention of best buy.

“I need a camera.’’

“A camera? You aren’t gonna go all Hannah baker on me right?’’ he questions, making you roll your eyes at him.

“No stupid, the therapist gave me a task and i’d rather use a fresh lens than my phone, it’ll be more authentic that way.’’

“Whatever you say, but if i get a box of tapes on my doorstep i will be sending it back to you in the afterlife.’’

“Stupid’’ you mumble under your breath, shaking your head at him before returning your attention back to the world outside. It had been so long since you’d left the house for something that wasn’t basic errands or grocery runs. For the first time in a year you found yourself enjoying the scenery again, basking in the beauty of the outside world.

Eventually you had to return home, stepping inside the air just felt heavy, like there was a shift of energy between the world beyond your doorstep. It was quiet, and the faint smell of vanilla and cinnamon hinted at your nose– the scent that Jungwon loved so much he needed the house to smell like it at all times. The house felt lonely now that it had just been you, the silence almost engulfing you and sending you back into that sad state that you always found yourself sinking into, but you remembered what Alicia had told you “when you feel yourself slipping into that dark place again just pick up your camera”. And so you did.

Taking the camera out of its box you place it on the coffee table before you after hitting record. For minutes you sat there silent, wracking your brain for something to say, anything relevant until you finally decided to just speak from the heart.

“I miss you..won. I know that it’s been a year and I should move on but I can't bring myself to give up on you or the fact that you might not be fully lost to time. It’s just hard, because you’ve always been here. Since I was seven years old you’ve been at my side..back then you were so sure that you loved me even at such a young age you’d always known what you wanted in life, even when our lives were headed in different directions you didn’t give up on loving me. I won't, I won't give up my hope that you’re okay. You waited fourteen years for me…i’ll wait a lifetime.’’ you didn’t realize when the tears had started to fall, but your cheeks were now fully stained with tears, the droplets seeping into the fabric of your pants.

“You’ll come home, I know you will..you promised me.’’

–

Jungwon had fully dissociated, it was the only way to stop himself from going mad. Head resting against the cold tiles he let the water from the shower run through his hair and down his back, the scorching water was less than torture as he stood confined to the prison of his own mind. He couldn’t get himself to stop thinking about if he’d never get home, never get to see you again. The spacecraft was starting to feel like more of a prison despite its luxury. He’d walked every hall over a thousand times, counted every star in the sky, slept for hours on end to past time and yet it hadn’t made his time on the ship any less unbearable. When he was younger he had pictured all the journeys he’d go on when he got to this point in life. So many memories of forcing his dad to help you and him build life sized spaceships out of cardboard and paper just for the two of you to play pretend. Always acting out scenarios of him drifting out to space, before returning home to you until it became a reality only this time he didn’t return.

A sigh spills from his lips as he towel dries his hair, tossing the towel off to the side before stepping out of the room that felt so suffocating at the time.

“15, 16, 17…’’ steps counted, the only room he had yet to count the steps from there to the captains quarters up until now, something he’d started to do to keep his mind from drifting while walking the same halls every single day.

Coming to the captains quarters and testing the communication systems had become a chore at this rate, a repetitive cycle that he’d attempt three times a day, or what he was assumed 3 in a day..it wasn't like he had much of a perception of time there.

Same as always his fingers dance across the buttons until he sees the communications light flicker green, indicating communication was open on his end. He let out a tiresome sigh, an indication that he had already known the outcome of his call attempt, yet he always tried anyway.

“Riot thirteen, this is Yang…can anyone..can anyone hear me?” silence, silence on the other line. Something he had grown used to now but it never got any easier, each time he felt his resolve slipping away. His lips press into a thin line and he releases a jagged breath, fist slamming against the captain's share because he wasn't reckless enough to hit the controls. His vision was starting to blur as he sucked in a breath it felt like his chest was caving in, he tried, tried his best to control the now rapid beating of his heart but it was of no use. He experienced a panic attack, completely falling apart for the first time. Tears stinging his eyes threatening to fall while he completely unraveled on the floor. He tried to choke them back, to force himself to keep strong, because falling apart meant accepting the inevitable, but he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck.’’ he lets out a blood curdling scream before finally letting himself go, fists repeatedly slamming against the floor while tears seeped into his clothes.

The sun peeked through the clouds casting shadows over your bedroom, shining just below your line of vision. It was enough to wake you from your slumber. Your gaze shifts to the clock at your bedside and you take note of the time, 11:30 am, six hours earlier than the time you’d usually find yourself waking up. You weren’t sure when you’d fallen asleep, but it had been the first time in years you found yourself sleeping soundly and waking up early. Stretching out your arms you do a quick scan of the room, finding the camera set on the opposing side of the bed, his side. Glimpses of last night had started coming back, after making the video you’d cried yourself to sleep, not because you were sad or scared of the outcome but because you were finally accepting it, accepting the idea of not seeing him again. You breathed out, a quick exhalation of all the pent up nerves and anxiousness that had clouded you day after day. It felt grounding, you weren’t fully healed of your wounds, but you’d finally have a place to start.

Throwing the covers off of yourself and kicking your legs to the side of the bed you made the vow to yourself that you wouldn’t allow yourself to be miserable today but you also didn’t plan on forcing anything. You’d start slow, maybe do a little cleaning and reading to ground yourself today, and return back to work tomorrow, after all it had been months since you’d stepped foot into the book store and you were sure everyone missed seeing your face. You spent most of the morning cleaning every room in the house, your bedroom, the guest room, living room, kitchen, but there was still one room left, one room that you hadn’t touched since news hit about Jungwon.

Your eyes dilate as your gaze fixates on the door, a moment of dissociation as your fingers graze the cold doorknob before you twist and push it open. A nervous exhale spills from your lips as you enter the room and a rough chill makes you shiver at how cold it is. It did hurt, being in his room and not seeing him sit behind his desk with his trinkets and sketch books, working on new projects but a slight smile curls onto your lips as every knick knack or old sheet of paper takes you down memory lane. The tenderness in your gaze was so reminiscent and adorning that it was almost profound, you’d come in here to clean but now you found yourself taking in the details of the room remembering every moment the two of you shared. Then your eyes find the shelf behind his desk, littered with all of his achievements but most importantly photos of the two of you.

Your fingers brush against the dusted frames of each of them stopping at a lonely photo that you had almost forgotten about. Jungwon's eleventh birthday, no party, no small gathering or meeting of friends, he had chosen to spend the day with only you and his family– the day he convinced his father to build the dainty little spaceship replica that made Jungwon beam as if it could really take him to the moon. It was painful, knowing that the one thing Jungwon loved so much had taken him away, but you couldn’t resent him for it; you’d always encouraged him to pursue his dreams and reach for the stars no matter where the journey would lead him.

“I won’t give up on you..’’ you whisper softly, as if he were here and you were whispering a loving vow to him. This room and these very achievements were like an awakening for you, no matter how far he’d gone or how long he was away he always returned to you, always came home. You weren’t ready to give up on the idea of him returning no matter how agonizing the wait was, you would wait a lifetime for him to come home. These videos that you were tasked with, these logs of your day would not be a goodbye or a way of distracting you from your thoughts. You would log every important moment of your life for him until he returned home. Setting the photo down you went back to cleaning, even though he wasn’t here you wouldn’t let this room waste away or wither into something less than it was. By the time you had finished the sun had already fallen from the sky and the moon took its place and you sat snuggled up in a lounge chair reading a book to the faint sound of music.

It had been so long since you’d done this, simply sat and relaxed or read to yourself. You hadn’t properly cared for yourself or given yourself time to breathe since all of the events took place but now here you were finally getting some sort of peace. It reminded you of back then, when your passion for reading was at its peak and Jungwon would always come home to find you sitting in this very chair fully enraptured by whatever it was you’d been reading. He would steal the book away and hold it above his head just to rile you up, make you jump from it just as an excuse to wrap his arms around your waist and press his lips on yours all to steal your attention away. With your reading done for the night you peel back the curtains to take a look outside, peering out at the empty backyard and taking in the way the moon casts its reflection into your pool before releasing the curtains into their rightful place. Standing up from the comfort of your lounge chair you go to grab the camera so that you could capture this night in film for him, giving the camera a quick glimpse of the moon before setting it down on the side table.

“I don’t know if you could see it where you are, I never did understand space like you did.’’ a soft laugh spills from your lips as you adjust yourself into the frame."It's been a year but I still find myself talking to the moon like I always did. Talking to you as if you could hear me all the way down here. It’s silly and I never told you about it then but every time you left i’d always be so scared that something would happen so I would ask the moon to bring you home safe to me, like it was a friend– like it was just our little secret.’’

You pause for a moment, adjusting your place in your seat so that you were no longer looking at the camera, only your side profile was visible as you looked up at the sky, eyes taking in every star and dark cloud.”please..please bring him home to me..’’ your words spill out almost inaudible, a near whisper like it was not just a simple ask like a cry for help.

“I hope you’re not too lonely up there. Thankfully Soobin and the others have stopped by now and then to check on me even when I tell them not to. I've felt terrible lately shutting out Heeseung and the others, and everyone from work but it’s been hard. Work just seemed to drag on when I first found out the news and still keeping in touch with your old coworkers just felt cruel to me, like it was just a reminder that they all were still here and you weren't. At first I did envy them. It was hard not to envy them knowing they were all still here and you were” there's a brief inhale between your words, before you correct yourself .”are gone. But I know it's not their fault they couldn’t have known this would happen, I just wish you weren’t up there alone.”

You sigh, looking back to the camera, a brief smile graces your lips. “I want to reach out to them, tell them I'm sorry for shutting them out but I'm scared they’d hate me for placing the blame on them, even if they didn’t know that was the reason I shut them out. I’m scared that they won’t accept me again after so much time has passed. You were always better with people than I was, you made it easier for people to understand me when I myself couldn’t even explain to them my thoughts.” A suppressed chuckle spills from your lips and you smile, he had always been so easygoing.

“Anyways..I should head to bed since it’s getting late. Lately it’s been easier to sleep since the first session. I wasn’t sure if this would really help or bring any clarity but it makes me feel less sad, more hopeful. I hope that you’re sleeping well up there. That your nights aren’t cold or restless and that you aren’t plagued with too many worries like I am down here. You were always the calm and collected one out of the two of us.’’ you let out a lighthearted laugh and bid him goodnight before shutting off the camera and placing it back on the side table. Taking your half empty cup of tea into your hands you glance out the window one last time before pushing yourself up from your seat and going to place it into the sink.

It’d be different if he could leave this place, the sanctuary that was more like a prison or a purgatorial hell. If he would wander the moon or mars, or find mann's planet, somewhere to settle down but he couldn’t he was confined to these walls. The same wall he’d stared at for 374 days twelve hours, ten minutes and fifty two seconds. He sat quietly in his bed, eyes glued to the window, he felt nothing but emptiness looking out at the contrasts of space itself, swirling warm tones against the stark blackness of the abyss. Looking out into something so beautiful once made him happy but it now frightened him, it captured the mystery unknowing, not having a clue of what was to happen next or where he would be going. This was the first time his eyes had ever looked that way, like the light had been drained from them, no life or essence of hope swimming in them like usual– they were completely empty, swirling with doubt and worry. He found himself thinking about you, the way you smiled at him before he left. How he’d hugged you and showered you with kisses not knowing that it would possibly be his last time, that there was a single possibility he would never see you again.

The breakdown of a man, confined to space, consumed by silence and no one was around to witness it, it was like a secret between him the stars and whatever else lingered amongst him. There was no more optimism, no more reassurance or hope, because he was completely alone. He was always the one to reassure everyone, to sever their ties with anxiety or anxiousness but who’d ever done that for him other than you? You who he couldn’t hold, couldn’t touch, couldn’t kiss or comfort right now when you probably needed him most.

He forces himself out of the room, dragging his feet across the floor as he looms down the hall and into the main control room. He hadn’t thought that this was something he’d need to do, because he was expecting to be found but so much time had passed and not a single break in contact.

“I didn’t think there would ever be a point where I needed to use this. I thought that someone would eventually find me, that I could tell you all of this in person, but the more time I spend here the less hopeful I become that I’ll make it home to you and that.’’ he pauses as if the words he was preparing to speak were forbidden from falling for his lips. “It scares me, really scares me thinking that I might leave the world and never get to tell you goodbye. That you could be hurting and worrying about me and never know what happens. I’m scared to lose the thing that means most to me to something else that I've always loved. I’m making this in case I don’t make it. In case the ship is found and i’m not here I need you to know I love you, more than space itself, I’ve loved you from the very moment I laid eyes on you even though I wasn’t old enough to know what love was then I know now and having to make this message is tearing me apart in the worst way. At that moment, I was only seven but it’s anchored into my soul and when I finally married you, I married you with my heart, my soul I gave it all to you and it will forever be yours even after I'm gone. I hope that you can move on eventually, knowing that I loved you to my fullest ability, knowing that you were the first and last to have my heart. I want you to be happy even if I'm not there. Even if..’’ He couldn't bring himself to speak the words, like the mention of his death meant fully accepting it.

“I love you Yang Yn, with every fiber of my being, every dna particle in my body I love you.’’ The final words he’d speak, his words of closure to you before ending the video message and sitting in silence.

Today you woke with a newfound resolve, Soobin and Beomgyu had been more than happy when they checked up on you and found that you were in fact returning to work today. Of course you were met with a string of “take it easy” or “try not push yourself” at which you reassured them you would. When you arrived on sight of the bookstore you thought you’d die with how tight Sunoo and Niki had hugged you, as if you had just come back from the dead. You’d known Sunoo for quite some time, having met him in college he became one of your best friends and he worked at the bookstore for as long as you had owned it. Niki on the other hand you had only met two years ago, a friend of Sunoo’s who would occasionally come in just to bother him which you’d found amusing and adorning. At some point you Jokingly told him “if you’re going to be here every day and not buy anything you may as well work here” well needless to say he took that offer to heart– the next day you came in for your shift to find Sunoo yelling at him for putting all the bookmarks in the wrong place.

“I can’t believe you left me here with him.’’ Sunoo complains, a pout forming on his lips as he finally gives you the space you need to breathe.

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad Noo.’’ You respond, stifling a laugh as you place your coffee onto the counter.

“He knocked down an entire shelf of books and we had to close the store down.’’ Sunoo responds, an unamused look on his face in contrast to you who had been trying to hold back a laugh. You look over to Niki who had been standing behind the counter and give him a questioning look.

“Exactly how did you manage that?” You give him an amused smile, at which Sunoo also looks over in his direction.

“I’d also like to know because I still have yet to hear the reason.” He adds, resting his head on his palms as the two of you looked at him expectantly.

“I thought there was a mouse okay? I thought I saw something scurry across the floor and I did not want that shit anywhere near me.’’

Neither You nor Sunoo could hold in your laughter upon finding out the reason Niki managed to knock down an entire shelf worth of books. You had to admit you did truly miss moments like this, the smallest moments of happiness that made life so worth living.

“So are you back for good?’’ Sunoo asks, wiping the tears from his eyes from his previous fit of laughter.

“I can’t say for sure, but I’m going to take this day by day. I need to get back to my usual self and work is part of that. I worked hard to get this place and I can’t just keep leaving all the work up to you and Niki.’’ You respond, gathering all of the piled up book logs that had just been sitting behind the counter waiting to be taken care of.

“Well I'm proud of you. It’s good to see you trying, good to see you’re doing somewhat better.’’ He smiles and gives you a reassuring hug before going to restock some shelves. The day went by in the blink of an eye, it didn’t drag on unlike many of your days where you just sat at home and did nothing. Your shifts continued that way, until eventually the end of the week had come before you even realized it, which meant it was finally time for your second session. You’d come to realize that even if saying how you feel was something hard for you to do, she was actually helping you.

“First, i’m happy that you decided to come back, sometimes all we need is someone to talk to and we may not always want to put all of our baggage onto our friends, Second I want to ask how are we feeling today?’’ she asks as she sets the tray down on the table, pouring you each a half cup of tea and sliding one over to you which you happily took. As she was the first time she was patient and attentive, she waited for you to speak and catch her up on everything that may have happened within that week of your absence.

“Well I went back to work.’’ You could see her eyebrows raise in contentedness and the slight smile on her lips as she drank from her mug.

“It felt nice to be back, I wasn’t worrying too much or overthinking I just felt happy I felt like me again. Thankfully Sunoo and Niki have made things easier coming back and they took good care of the place while I was away, it made me happier knowing i could rely on them.’’ she nods as you go on, practically beaming with every sentence. The quite opposite of how you’d been the first time she met with you.

“And your video logs, how are they coming along?’’ she asks, finally changing the subject to the task which she’d assigned you with the week prior.

“At first I was skeptical, I didn’t think something so simple would help me. Honestly I'm still hurting and trying to move on..but making those logs makes me feel like I'm still talking to him. It reminds me of all the times he’d go up there and have Heeseung or Jay or any of his coworkers relay messages to me. I realize that I’ve been so sad because I was starting to lose hope. I don’t know when he’ll see any of them or if he’ll ever see them but I choose to be hopeful that one day he will come home to me. The logs give me hope that he’s going to come back and see them.” she simply nods as she listens along, a smile on her lips. Of course you’d still be hurt and mourning his absence but you now had something to help you cope with that. You now have something to get you through your days.

“Well you’ve already done the first two steps and that’s accepting the situation and finding a way to live while still mourning. Now I want to tackle your isolation, in your forms another big thing that seems to be hard for you right now is contacting his coworkers? Now are these just coworkers or are they close friends of yours? What’s the relationship between all of you?” You stiffen at the mention of Heeseung and the others, surely you didn’t think all of your problems would be solved with just one little chat.

“They’re friends of his, more close to Jungwon than they ever were to me but they’ve always treated me like a sister, like I was more than just ‘Jungwons wife’.” she nods in understanding, encouraging you to go on.

“And where are they now, are you still in contact?’’

“No, not anymore. They used to for the first couple of months but I wouldn’t answer I couldn’t bring myself to.” you admit, your gaze refusing to meet hers as you spoke. You were overcome with guilt and didn’t want her to see you differently.

“Because you blamed them?’’ her words were like a punch to the gut, you did– you did blame them. And for the past three months you had been sitting with your guilt on top of all of the other things you were feeling.

“I envied them, because they were still here and Jungwon wasn’t. Because they all just let him go alone. I couldn’t bring myself to talk to any of them because I kept making them the reason he wasn’t here. I made them the ones who were at fault when they couldn’t have known something like this would happen. So I started to shut them out, and eventually they stopped calling and I never picked up the phone to call either.” you nervously fidget with your hands, suddenly feeling smaller under her gaze. You were expecting her to call you out or tell you that you were wrong for shutting them out, but she didn’t.

“Denial and misplaced sadness. There's no reason for it other than when we’re hurt we need someone else you blame when we can’t blame ourselves. You were hurting and you had nowhere to place all of those feelings. It’s not ideal and we always feel guilty when it happens but it’s normal human behavior.”

“I want to reach out to them, I do but I don't know where to start. I just feel so guilty shutting them out when I know they care and they are just worried.” You sigh, suddenly feeling the guilt all over again.

“For your next task, I want you to call them. Doesn’t have to be tonight or even tomorrow, as long as it's before our next session. I want you to contact them, whether it's to apologize, tell them you’re okay, see how they’re doing, that's up to you, but You should reach out to them.”

“And what if..what if they don’t want to talk to me?”

“If they truly are like family and see you as a sister then they’ll listen. No matter how much time has passed, I'm sure they’ll just be happy to hear from you.”

Jungwon was woken up to the sound of beeping in the captain's quarters. At first he’d thought he dreamt it, that he’d been there so long his mind was now playing tricks on him and he was experiencing full on psychosis. But even as his eyes fluttered open the sound had yet to go away. He shot out of his bed with the fuel of five rockets and sped down the empty corridor, nearly falling face first as he slid into the captain's quarters. The entire time Jungwon had been confined to that space this had never happened, and he wasn’t sure how long the alert had been going off or if too much time had passed but one thing was certain, someone had intercepted his message, they were trying to contact him.

Two days, two days had passed since your last therapy session and you’d been dreading this moment. You thought about how this conversation would go a thousand times. Imagined Heeseung yelling, screaming, possibly never wanting to talk to you again after you’d ignored them for so long, but Alicia was right, they deserved to know you were okay, deserved an explanation for you having ice them out. You sat in your room staring at the contact on your phone for over twenty minutes trying to encourage yourself to call, and ease the nerves that were swimming in the pits of your stomach.

“Just one call yn, one call is all it takes.’’ you reassure yourself before finally hitting the call button and raising the phone to your ear. Four times it rang, then five, and you sat nervously shaking as you waited for the other line to fall silent. Seven times it rang, and right when you were losing hope there's a crisp click as the other line is answered. You held your breath, heart thumping against your chest as you heard his familiar voice on the other side of the line.

“Yn…yn are you there?’’

“I-i’m here Hee.’’

“Oh my god, fuck it’s been a year since everyone has heard from you. We tried to call and text for months but never got an answer. How are you? Did something happen? You’re calling so suddenly?’’ he spitfires on the other line, and for some reason your nerves had begun to melt away. There were so many things you had to tell him but hearing his voice and knowing that no matter how much time had passed he still cared, it made your heart swell.

“Actually that’s what I was calling about, there are some things that I have to say, I know that so much time has passed..but Can we meet? All of us, You, Me, Sunghoon, Jay and Jake?’’ you held your breath as you anticipated his response, it wasn’t until you heard a quick “yes, yes of course.’’ that you fully released it.

“Where should we meet? I’ll call them all and tell them. They’ll be happy to hear from you.’’

“Moonstruck cafe? At around 3ish?’’ you respond, finally being able to feel some sort of relief now that the hardest part is over.

“We’ll be there.’’ and with that final confirmation that you would finally be seeing them all after a year, you both bid your goodbyes before hanging up the phone. You immediately fall back onto the bed listening to the hum of the air conditioner as your eyes trace the corners and creases of your ceiling. Your hand rested on your stomach and you counted the times your chest rose and fell with every waking second. Your eyes shift over to the clock at your bedside, two hours until you had to meet with them all, two hours until you had to confess to them that you had blamed all of them who were probably also hurting in the absence of their best friend.

You sat nervously fidgeting with your hands, your tea that was once piping hot now ran completely cold. You were too nervous to eat let alone pick up a drink and you were starting to wonder why you’d gotten in the first place with such knowledge. The ding to the entrance made your head immediately turn to the door and you stiffen in your seat as you see them all trail in. Jay, Sunghoon, Jake then Heeseung. The moment their eyes fell upon you a smile met each of their faces, Jake was the first to run to you and envelope you in the strongest hug, so tight he’d nearly blocked your airways. They each trailed behind you pulling you into their arms to give you the long overdue hugs that they’d waited so long to give you.

“Where have you been all this time.’’ Jake starts, you were sure he was ready to bombard you with all the questions in the world but Jay was quick to put a stop to it.

“Will you let her speak before you ask a million and one questions.’’ he reprimands, sliding into the booth across from you.

“It’s okay Jay, I know all of you probably have a lot of questions and i’m going to answer them but first there's something that I have to say.’’ You had their full attention, all eyes were practically glued to you and it made it hard to speak, but you had no choice.

“I want to say that…that I'm sorry to all of you. When I first found out what happened I was broken and hurt and I didn’t know what to do. I just needed to be alone. I know that you all care for me and you may have been worried but then I was just so hurt and confused on how to pick myself up from this that I started to blame all of you that he wasn’t here. I made it all of your faults when it was never because of you, neither of you could have predicted this would happen and knowing how stubborn Jungwon was if you’d offered to go with him he would have kept reassuring you that he was good on his own. I know it’s terrible, to put the blame on all of you and shut you out for an entire year but.’’ you suck in a breath, trying to prevent the tears that were so close to falling, from spilling out your eyes. “I just found someone to blame because I was hurt and I was lost and I'm so sorry. I’m sorry for shutting you all out and acting the way that I did. I don’t know if you can forgive me but I really do feel terrible. You all mean so much to Jungwon, to me and I ignored that because I was in a dark place.’’

There was a silence lingering, as if they all were mapping out the right words to say, but to you the silence was painful. Silence gave you too much time to overthink. Silence was a very manipulative thing, it could force the mind to draft ideas and conclusions that can entrap one to the confines of their mind. You always hated it for that very reason because it gave you too much time to be in your head, too lost in the forests of your mind that more often felt more like a jungle with the emotions it carried. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at them, just sat nervously fidgeting with your fingers under the table, unable to physically relax until you felt someone's hand rest on yours and Jay finally broke the silence.

“We understand.’’ Finally the weight on your shoulders had been lifted enough for you to hold their gazes. Each of them nodding in agreement voicing their acceptance of your apology.

“We aren’t hurt because we understand. The one thing that hurts is not knowing you were okay, having you shut us out is far worse. It’s a normal human function to grives and not know where to place those emotions so we don’t hold that against you but I wish you’d just come to us. Even in that moment if you needed to yell, if you needed somewhere to place the hurt maybe then it would have hurt our feelings but we would have been there. You shouldn’t have had to feel all of that alone.’’ Your eyes searched his own for any ounce of spite or hurt in his gaze but there was none. Jay’s words were completely genuine, meant to be comforting rather than make you feel worse than you had.

‘We always told you that you have been like a sister to us. Ever since we met you and Jungwon it was like this light had been brought into our lives. You both have this infectious energy and optimism that can light up a room at the darkest times. What kind of men would we be if we let you go through that alone, if we blamed you for grieving when we were also feeling the same things. Blaming the organization for sending him off, blaming everyone for a fault that was no ones, because space is unpredictable.’’ Jake chimes in, all of them finally seeming to voice their feelings for the first time in what was possibly months. It was like they’d waited for this moment, like they were waiting to get to you so that you could all grieve and feel. So that all of you could heal together and take it day by day knowing you wouldn’t be alone.

“Sunghoon went as far as ruining the office when he found out they planned on stopping the search after two months. He blamed everyone, even those that weren’t involved in the launch.” Jake admits, forcing your gaze to drift ti Sunghoon who had sat there silently for the time being. He had been the closest to Jungwon, the two of them having gone through the stem program together and being reunited when Jungwon had been accepted into NASA. You felt guilt twinge at the pit of your stomach because for the first time you were fully realizing that you didn’t just isolate yourself, you left them in their time of need. There was hesitance in Sunghoons demeanor as he seemed to be rooting out all the things he should and shouldn’t say to you.

“When I found out, I wanted to destroy everything. I was angry. Angry that they would send him up there alone, that they would stop the search only after two months of trying and just give up on contact. I needed somewhere to place all of it and I took it out on everyone no matter how deep their involvement was, I didn't care. I just needed someone to blame because it felt like I was losing my brother and there was nothing I could do.’’ Sunghoon was someone that you’d known to rarely lose his temper, he’d always been the one to calm the others down when Jungwon wasn’t around but to hear that he had been so hysterical, so out of it made your heart swell with despair.

“All of us have had a hard time grieving it, there are many moments that we aren't proud of.’’ Heeseung adds, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze, in that moment you weren't sure it was more so for his convenience or yours, but it didn’t matter. “I stayed up countless nights, skipped meals, stared at the wall for hours on end just blaming myself, wondering what I could have done to prevent it. Thinking about how things would have gone if i’d gone with him. Then he wouldn’t be alone out there. Or at least I'd know if he was alive; Safe. Time and time again these guys have had to pull me out of a dark place because I was convinced that I was part of the reason he wouldn’t be coming back. I needed there to be a reason when in reality it’s just life. Life can snatch the happiness from right beneath your feet at any moment and leave you blaming everyone. Yourself, your friends, The world. All because we need there to be a reason bad things happen in our life. If there's a reason it makes it easier to grieve and accept. We’ve all been there yn.’’

“So we can’t sit here and blame you for finding ways to grieve when we’ve all been hurting.’’ Jay's words hit you like a truck and you were too late in realizing the tears that had started to fall down your face. They were really your family, and all this time you’d abandoned your family who was also in pain, to grieve alone.

“I’m sorry, for not realizing that all of you were also in pain and that you needed me. That we needed each other.’’ Heeseung shakes his head as he wipes the tears from your face. “You came to us when you were ready, it may have taken a long time but you’re here with us now and that’s all we care about.”

“So stop with the tears, you’re getting them all in your tea.’’ Jake says teasingly, trying his best to now lighten the mood which thankfully works because it has you laughing through the tears.

“And now that we have you back you can’t go ghost on us again.’’ Jay says, sliding a napkin over to your side of the table so you could clean your face properly.

“As a matter of fact Heeseung has something to tell you.” Jake spills, eying heeseung with a cheeky smile on his face. Lifting your head from Heeseungs shoulder where it previously lay, you look up at him.

“What is it?’’

“Well i’m having an engagement party this upcoming saturday.’’ Heeseung spills, and the moment the words fall from his lips you find yourself beaming. You’d always known Heeseung to be a flirt out of the four of them, he often showed up to you and Jungwons house parties with a new fling every month, so to hear that he had finally found someone to settle down with had you over the moon.

“Oh my god Heeseung!? That’s amazing! What’s she like? What do you like about her? Does she want kids?”

“You can ask her all the questions you want this saturday because you’re coming and you can invite Soobin and the others as well.’’ He gave you no time to refuse his invite, not that you would have refused it anyways.

The rest of your evening you sat there beaming and gushing over every detail he’d given you about their relationship. How they met, where they met, when and where he proposed and how he did it. The only thing you’d wish had been different about the evening was your desire to have Jungwon sat there at your side with you. You found yourself feeling so giddy when you returned home that night, it felt like things were slowly falling into place and even if you didn’t know what the future held you knew that there had to be a light at the end of your tunnel.

You had done everything you needed for the night, showered, facial care, washed your hair for the night and then slipped into your pajamas. But before the night was over, before you slipped into the coziness and warmth of your bed there was something you needed to do to finish off your night. As always you found yourself sitting in the lounge chair near the backyard window, warm cup of tea in hand and the camera set up on the coffee table with the brand new tripod you’d gotten when you decided this was something you’d take seriously.

“I believe this is log number five now, It hasn’t been that long since i’ve started these.” you smile, your gaze lingering to the view beyond the curtains as you momentarily gather your thoughts. “I still miss you, of course I miss you but I'm doing better today, a lot happier than I was before. The guys miss you too you know…I saw them for the first time in a year today and I was so nervous but it was like no time had been missed between us all.” a lighthearted laugh spills past your lips recalling the events at the cafe earlier that day.

“You’re not going to believe it but Heesungs is getting married in two months. His engagement party is in four days and I wish you were here to go with me, but I guess Soobin isn’t such a bad date. It’s still hard, learning to go about my day without you or do things I'd normally do with you alone but I'm learning and I think I've been doing pretty well lately. Alicia has helped a lot with that even though we haven't had many sessions. I think she works with me and guides me in a healthy way that makes me feel open to being vulnerable with her. I think with her, and the guys….with soobin and the others too i'll be okay. So don’t worry about me up there my love just get home to me safe La lune te ramènera chez moi en toute sécurité (the moon will bring you home to me safely). Goodnight my love.’’ You place a kiss on your palm and cover the camera before ending your log there and heading to bed for the night. If only you knew the lengths that he’d been going through to make it home to you.

Jungwons hands were trembling with the press of every button, he hadn’t slept a wink ever since he’d woken up to find that his message was intercepted. This meant that somewhere in the area a satellite was nearby and if he could get close enough then he could make contact. He’d brought himself to the brink of chronic insomnia, forcing him to stay up for that one opening, that one moment that would provide him relief. But just then, right when he was slipping away, right when he was failing to keep his eyes open. “Yang this is riot thirteen, come in Yang.”

Jungwons eyes had never opened so fast, he sprung from his chair like a jack in a box after you’d winded its crank no less than a few times. He was feeling so many things at once, relief, fatigue, dread, anxiety it was like every emotion the human body could possibly feel had been pooling into him all at once. “Riot thirteen this is Jungwon, holy shit. Come in.’’

“Holy shit it really is him.’’ You could hear on the other line, Heeseung, the man whose voice he hadn’t heard in so long it almost felt like a dream. “Holy shit, it’s him.’’

There was slight commotion in the background of the comms sector, From the moment Jungwons first message had been intercepted there was an intense hope lingering in the sector. Hope that the message wasn't just an interception of something Jungwon had decided to make long ago when he was freshly sent off. Jungwon felt so much relief swell in his chest, he couldn’t stop the flow of tears that eventually came rolling down his face.

“Heeseung?’’

“Holy shit, we’re gonna bring you home. We’re gonna bring you home.’’ Heeseung was hysterical, he couldn't bring himself to form any other words other than those. It was like gravity itself had come crashing down and he felt all the pressure and tension in his chest. On the other line Jungwon was silent, a silent string of cries and sharp breaths as he just sat there, the weight of fatigue setting in. It was like he was experiencing psychosis,he had been up there so long that he couldn’t fathom this moment being real but it was, they were going to bring him home to you.

“Heeseung don’t…don’t tell her I'm coming home. I want to be there. If we give her hope and I don’t make it then.’’

“You’re going to make it. She’s waiting for you. We’ve all been waiting for you.” heeseung snaps on the other line, they'd waited all that time for a breakthrough and he was going to make sure Jungwon made it home even if it meant doing the resume mission himself.

“Soobin hurry the hell up, how is it that I have a face full of makeup and it’s taking you longer than me to get ready.’’ you rush him, eyeing the clock as you and the others all waited for Soobin to come out of the bathroom.

“I told you he takes longer than me.’’ Yeonjun murmurs over to Taehyun who you were sure weren’t even listening to begin with.

“You can’t rush perfection Bella.’’ finally he images from your bathroom and by the looks of it nothing changed other than his outfit and hair.

“It took you an hour and a half to put on a fucking shirt and pants?’’ Beomgyu questions, making Huening Kai snort from his spot in the corner.

“It only took less than five minutes to get dressed the hour and a half was all hair.’’

“You know what talk about it in the car or we’re going to be late let’s go.’’ you rush them all up out of their spots and out the door not wanting to waste any further time bickering over Soobins ability to be a total diva. Between Beomgyus endless yelling, Taehyun and Yeonjuns bickering and soobin practically talking your ear off the ride had been a complete chaotic mess. You were more than happy the moment you arrived at Heeseungs place and were finally able to step out of the car, you practically ran away from the five of them. The moment Jay opens the door and sees you standing there with that already tired expression on your face he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Nothing’s even started yet and you already look like you’re ready to lay for a nap.’’ he laughs before stepping aside and letting you all in.

“You can blame the four of them, Kai was the only bearable one throughout the entire ride and that’s just because he sat quietly looking out the window the entire time.”

“Well excuse me for trying to keep you entertained in the front seat.’’ soobin mumbles, scrunching up his face at you.

“So sorry binnie, I appreciate you sooo much.’’ You respond, a fake pout on your lips as you pull him in for a side hug.

“The others are out back right now, Heeseung had to step out for something but he’ll be back soon then we can all eat.’’ Jay explains, giving all of you the quick rundown of things.

‘Finally you’re here do you know how long we’ve been waiting. I was starting to think you were gonna disappear again.” an already half-drunk Jake appears with the company of Sunghoon.

“Nope, i’m not going anywhere, not this time. Soobin wouldn’t let that happen anyways.’’ you smile while giving soobin a friendly punch on the arm.

“I wouldn’t we just started getting you back.’’ he gives your shoulders a loving shake.

It felt nice to be with all of them and finally feel like you were free from your worries and thoughts. It had been so long since you’d smiled and laughed like the way you were with all of them. The energy had been so infectious and wired with a spark that you hadn’t felt since before Jungwon had gone, but then something shifted. Not so much in a bad way but you could tell there was a shift in energy the moment you heard the front door swing open behind you. All eyes were now focused on whatever, or whoever had just come into the door, big smiles on each of their faces. Your eyebrows crease in confusion as you move to turn around, the smile falling from your lips and air knocked out of your lungs the moment you turn to see him standing there.

It was like the world slowed around you and everyone else had dissolved into matter, lost in thin air. You had tunnel vision, he was the only thing you could see. If you hadn’t still been standing there breathing you would have thought your heart stopped the moment his eyes locked on yours but it was still beating. Your heart, His heart both beating in proximity, finding the sync they once lost before he had gone away. It felt so surreal running into his arms having his arms wrap around you, having him hold you so tight as if you would slip away at any moment. Hot tears seeping into his shirt, whispered ‘i love yous’ and ‘i missed you so much —It was like the two of you were in your own world, own universe even.

For Jungwon this felt like some sort of warped reality to finally be here with you. Fingers tangled in your hair as he held you close to him and took in the warmth of your body. He had missed you more than anything, your laugh, your smile, the smell of your perfume had gone lost to his memory with how long he’d been away.

“Let’s leave them alone.’’ Heeseung suggests, his words going deaf to your ears as your sole focus was now the man in front of you. Your husband, the one you’d wait lifetimes for.

“Is this real?’’ you manage to croak out.

“It’s real,baby I'm here. I'm home. I came back to you.’’ he responds, showering you with kisses not leaving one inch of your face untouched by his lips. It felt like centuries since you had tasted his lips, since his lips danced against your own like the perfect sculpture molded to perfection all for yours.

“When, how..?’’ so many questions you wanted to ask him but you didn’t know where to start.

“I’ll tell you all of it, everything you want to know when it’s just the two of us but now just let me be with you.’’ he pleads, leaving soft kisses on your hands, neck, face, lips. His lips danced so gracefully against your skin that it made your heart beat like a melodic song. You never left his side that entire night and he never left yours, it was like you’d been glued to one another the entire night. Like if either of you let go one of you was bound to slip away. Everyone had been happy to see him back, happy to know that he was now home safe and in your arms but no one was happier than you.

When you finally returned home the two of you clung to one another like koalas, like there was a magnetic force pulling and tugging at each of you forcing you to remain within close proximity. You both sat lying in bed, your eyes scanning his face, every outline or detail that you’d almost forgotten. The details that a photograph alone couldn’t do justice. His hands lovingly drew circles on your waist while you sat fingers lovingly twirling in his hair, or tracing over his cheekbones.

“I missed you. So much more than words can describe.’’ He finally breaks the comfort of silence, pulling you close to his chest. Close enough to hear his heart thump against it.

“I worried about you every day, if you were okay. About you being alone up there. Jungwon I prayed every day that you would come home to me safe and sound. I never lost hope that you were still up there somewhere.’’ he pressed a loving kiss to your forehead, thumbs drawing gentle circles on your hips.

“It did get hard. I was starting to lose hope that I would ever see you. I didn’t think I’d ever get home back to you. I broke. But when the message I made for you was intercepted I stayed up for what felt like two days waiting for a sign or signal. Anything to get me back to you or at least let you know I was okay.’’

“A message for me?’’

“A video, If I wasn’t going to come back I wanted you to know that it was okay if you moved on and found someone else to love. I wanted you to be happy even if that wasn’t me. I would have been happy knowing that I died loving you, that my first and last love was you. The girl I knew i would love for the rest of my life since I was only six years old.’’ Again the tears had started, so many emotions swarming you amidst the happiness and comfort you felt just being in his arms again.

“I made messages for you too.’’ pushing yourself up from his chest you turn to grab your camera from the nearby nightstand. “Soobin, well Soobin convinced me to see someone, a therapist and she suggested that I make these logs for you about my day…at first I thought it was dumb but..then they became my only relief.’’ you hand the camera over to him and disappear down the hallway to get your laptop from his office. This was the first time you would be watching those videos and looking back on everything you said to him. While you couldn’t bring yourself to watch or listen to yourself talk he gave every video his full attention.

As much as the videos made him smile there were also logs that left his heart swollen in his chest, how restless you looked in the first one. How he could practically feel your pain through the lenses, it hurt him to see and know that you were hurting no matter how strong or hopeful you tried to be.

“You are so strong. Even if you think you need me to rely on you, I think it’s the other way around. You’ve always been my rock, the thing that keeps me calm and not having you up there with me. Being alone and away from you for so long made me realize that you keep me sane and grounded. These Logs, these videos are evidence that even without me you can be okay, you're the calm before and after the storm. Not just for me but for the guys, for soobin and the others or even your employees at work. You make things better. You make it easier to see the light at the end of the tunnel.’’

“Jungwon.’’ your eyes were swimming with tears, ripples of clearwater that felt like the impact of the ocean crashing against the shoreline.

“I missed you more than words can ever describe. I never thought i’d have to choose between two things that I love until the moment everything was ripped away from me.’’

“Wait Jungwon what do you mean choose?’’

“If I have to choose between you and space I want to choose you every time. If there's a possibility that you could lose me to my career then maybe it’s time I let it go.’’ your heart sank in your chest, you never thought those words would leave his mouth. As scary as it was to think you could lose him because of the career he pursued you couldn’t let him give up on the one thing he dreamt to be since he was four.

“Jungwon.’’ taking the laptop and moving it aside you take the place in his lap, holding his face in your hands, “you cannot let the fear of something like this happening rip you away from what you love. I’ve watched you build spaceships in the yard with your father. You stayed up endless nights working your ass off and studying to get where you are now. you put so much work in and this is just a minor setback. You’ve always said to yourself that space is unpredictable and you never know what can happen or what you’ll find. You said those words. It scares me to think that something like this could happen but i will not let you give up on something you worked so hard for.’’ His gaze weighed a thousand tons, he always looked at you as if you were the stars. As if you found ways to light up his dark path when things looked bad.

“You cannot give up Jungwon, I missed you so much. The wait was so agonizing but you’re here now. You’re here with me.’’ Your words were so comforting at that moment. Stepping out of that ship for the first time and touching ground again after so many years had him so sure of his decision. But having you here, sitting in his lap encouraging him to not give up was making him waver. The two of you had been through a hell of your own in just that year alone but you weren’t letting that get in the way of things. You had always been that way, always been the one to support and encourage him to keep putting his best foot forward when things were getting tough. You really were like the stars to him, the stars that guided him home, back to security anytime he found himself drifting aimlessly.

2 years later

“Yang Jungwon i swear if you’re late for this wedding, i’m going to come down to that space center and kick your ass.’’You yell at him through the phone as you sat combing out your daughter's hair.

“Touching down now my love.’’ He responds on the other line and you could hear the smile in his town which only makes you roll your eyes.

“Daddy, are you finally coming home? Will you tell me about your trip?’’ your daughter beams, making him chuckle on the other line. He had been gone on a week long trip and in that timespan she had not stopped asking questions about him. Needless to say you weren’t the only one proud of Jungwon, hell if your daughter could tell everyone in the world that her father was an astronaut she would.

“I’ll tell you all about it after the wedding catbug.’’ he responds, making you smile at their little interaction. ‘Catbug’ the nickname Jungwon had given her because it was all she would watch, she’d watched so often that she nearly knew every line which absolutely amazed you because she was only two.

“I love you both, I’ll see you at the wedding.’’ you respond with a hum, hearing him cough on the other line as he waits for you both to say it back.

“We love you too, please get there safely.’’ you finally respond, making him smile as you both finally hang up the phone.

“Alright bug all done.’’ you lift her up into your arms as you finally finish her hair, showering her with loving kisses that always seemed to fill your halls with her laughter. “Let’s get going, your uncles are probably all waiting to see you.’’

The ride to the wedding venue was full of consistent chatter from her, mostly random things, her quoting catbug or randomly mentioning the things she would catch glimpses of outside your window. You loved how energetic she was, she was just like this beacon of light. Your own bundle of joy that took no less than 24 hours of crying and pushing and squeezing Jungwons hands to bring into the world. You’d never forget when you held her for the first time and it was like your life had shifted for the better seeing that sparkle in her eyes that reminded you so much of Jungwons.

When you arrived at the venue you were surprised to see that Jungwon had beaten you there and by the looks of the smile on his face you were starting to conclude that he had already been here the entire time.

“Daddy!’’ your daughter had barely given you any time to put her down before she was already trying to escape your hold and run over to him. He gladly lifts her into his arms and kisses all over her face leaving you standing there with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Now i know why it was so noisy in the background of our call, when did you touchdown?’’

“An hour ago.’’ He responds with a cheeky smile making you shake your head as you glide on over to him. “Both my girls look beautiful.’’

“Mm you look handsome for someone that had to do all of this on a spacecraft.’’ You respond teasingly, stepping to his side and placing a kiss on his lips before wiping off your lip gloss from them.

“Are you saying I usually dress bad on the ship?’’

“Well blue isn’t exactly your color.’’ you respond playfully.

“Do they have purple astronaut clothes, I want mine to be purple.’’ your daughter questions, making him chuckle.

“You can wear whatever color you want catbug.’’ he responds, giving her a light tickle before putting her down.

“Let’s go and find your uncle soobin bug, you can sit with him while me and your daddy walk the aisle.’’ her hands lock with both of yours as she happily kicks her feet up off the ground at the mention of her uncle (her favorite uncle because he bribed her with sweets).

Once she was in a secure place with Soobin the two of you wandered off to join the other bridesmaids and groomsmen for the wedding march. The moment took you back to the night of you and Jungwons wedding and how surreal the moment had been, you wouldn't believe how much time had passed since then. Years seemed to go by in the blink of an eye when it was the two of you together. From childhood to adulthood the two of you had spent every waking moment together. You both grew up together, learned to love and tend to each other in ways only the two of you had known how. As you stood, arms linked with his, prepared to march down the aisle again for one of your closest friends' wedding, you couldn’t help but hope that your daughter would find a love like this. A love so strong that it hurts to be apart, because being apart meant your hearts no longer synced. The space between heartbeats that had always beat together was a painful kind of love, but it was also a beautiful thing.

PERM TAGLIST: @sol3chu @addictedtohobi @heartheejake @gweoriz @annybah @iarainha @nishimura-mimura @gweoriz @deaddcrow @bbangbies @kimuranirisi @wonzzziezzzz @dazeymazey11 @stayar1 @neogotmysam @starsmew @taystarr @icatpjs @sunshisthings @hwang-hynjin @joneborder @izzyy-stuff @claumbeju @bubblytaetae @imzhouxinyu @firstclassjaylee @i-am-not-dal @sasha-b4 @luvjichang @lveegsoi @soobundle1009 @juliejulesjule @zoe1love @mymayaship

[hoonieangel]

cuties!!

your eyes only (＞ω＜)♡

pairing: sim jaeyun x reader genre: established relationship, smau/fake texts, fluff, romance warnings: not much like some teasing (lovingly), kissing, suggestive, profanity, yn and jake are unhinged lmao, 18+ not proofread lol

synopsis: random texts and posts about you and your boyfriend, jake

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @manaah02 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy @s1rawb3rry @ddeonuswife @orxngebloods @xylatox

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[hoonieangel]

i love texts so much 🩷

texts with your college bf jungwon

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader

genre: humor, fluff ; warnings: mentions of kissing, kms jokes

AUTHOR’S NOTE. another texts scenario that no one asked for 🤗🤗

PERMANENT TAGLIST (OPEN). @yedamdamn @yujipg @linniely @yebin14 @abdiitcryy @stllsph @valewoos @lovrqis @lilactangerine @amourfae @outrunangelss @flwoie @xiaoderrrr @hsgwrld @ohmykwonsoonyoung @millsielovesgyu @softpia @squiishymeow @wvnkoi @zi-ever @ml8dy (italics: couldn’t tag)

if you guys liked this, please reblog or leave a comment to let me know !!

[hoonieangel]

fav so good

─── 𝑳𝑫𝑹 (𝑳𝑜𝑣𝑒,𝑫𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑹𝑜𝑏𝑜𝑡𝑠)

˚.❀𝑷𝐴𝐼𝑅𝐼𝑁𝐺 ─── Robot!Sunghoon x Reader

˚.❀𝑺𝑌𝑁𝑂𝑃𝑆𝐼𝑆 ─── Men sucked, Real men sucked ── they don't know shit and only think about themselves. And as if the gods had heard you , you've found a website that sounded ridiculous enough not to click ── you just had to check it out. Build your own boyfriend ; they really meant it when they said that. So , for the fun of it ; you've built your own boyfriend and ordered him. What you didn't expect was for your Robotic 'Boyfriend' to gain self awareness and for you to fall for him.

˚.❀𝑮𝐸𝑁𝑅𝐸/𝐶𝑊 ─── nsfw (mdni) , futuristic!Au, romance , robotic sex, cussing , Sunghoon gets self-aware, alien stage characters mentioned (ifykyk), fingering, masturbation with another person watching, nipple stimulation, mention of sex toys , a bit of angst if you squint ˚.❀𝑾𝑂𝑅𝐷 𝐶𝑂𝑈𝑁𝑇 ─── 9.3k ˚.❀𝑁𝑂𝑇𝐸 ─── i hope this doesn't flop </3 this ended up being longer than intended. Special thanks to @jaylaxies and @taetebebe for encouraging me to continue !

                              𝒄ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑘 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑜𝑢𝑡ᵎᵎ (˶˃⤙˂˶)

Prologue : Real men suck.

You were sick of it , another date that you thought was going to be the one date you'd come back home from happily went down the drain. Men just sucked , they absolutely fucking sucked and didn't care about anyone other than themselves. Talk about fragile masculinity.

You weren't lucky in the love and relationship field ── somehow , you've always managed to attract complete pricks or one of those 'nice' guys who were absolute psychopaths and crash out professionals. So , you've had peaceful years of staying single , sure maybe a hookup once in a while but nothing that lasted for a long time ── you were simply living life. But that didn't mean that you wanted it to stay like that , otherwise you wouldn't have collected every ounce of courage in your body to go on a date once in a while with the hopes of getting into a relationship ── you just never found the right one. Maybe your standards were too high , a lot of the guys you had gone on a date with would throw that sentence at your head at the end of it just because you don't want to sleep with them on the first date. It was ridiculous.

"He almost threw a damn temper tantrum just because I stepped away when he tried to kiss me. Like damn , my bad for wanting to keep it demure ── I didn't even want to kiss him! I don't get how he'd want to kiss me when his lips were still covered in tomato sauce", your face cringing as you recalled the date , lips closing around the straw of your drink as you slurped on it , watching the way your friend's face also scrunched up in disgust. "Ew.... couldn't he at least wipe his mouth, maybe then he could've gotten a kiss from you", you quickly shook your head while humming "no" , your eyes widening out of disbelief. "Nu uh! I would never in my life kiss him! He made me pay the damn bill because he 'forgot' his wallet! Yunjin, he ordered the most expensive meals off the menu and didn't even eat all of it!", you couldn't help but scoff a little , this was the last time you'd accept paying the whole bill ── it's either half half or nothing.

"Ho, did you go on a date with a child?", Yunjin chuckled , sipping on her own drink while you were scrolling on your phone. Suddenly , you saw something that made you stop scrolling. A pop ad showed up. BYOB : Build your own boyfriend ── ...? What a strange website. Build your own boyfriend? That sounded like a dream but it also sounded way too ridiculous to be true ── so you clicked on it , not even thinking about it being a scam or a virus.

But it was legit , there it was. There were a variety of things you could do such as customize the face , body build and with body build they meant everything , skin tones, eye color , change the hairstyle ── it was like playing the sims , just cooler? "Girl , oh my god ── check this out", Yunjin's head snapped up upon your call out to her , getting startled by your phone right in front of her face before her eyes squinted slightly. "Dude, you seriously need to turn the brightness of your phone up", Yunjin huffed as she took your phone , adjusting the brightness of it before looking at the website you had opened ── her eyebrows furrowed a little before she gave you a look.

"Build your own boyfriend? This has to be a scam", Yunjin shook her head , reaching over the table to hand you your phone back. "I don't know , it could be ... but you can't know that unless you try it out? I just looked at some of the reviews and they look pretty legit , all the customers reviewed pictures with their 'boyfriends'. Now.... what if I just...", Yunjin put her hands up as a surrender as you trailed off. "You do you , girl. But don't come crying to me if you get scammed! But really? A robotic boyfriend? Don't you want to give real men another chance?", you sighed.

"No , real men suck. With this , I can program him myself and have the man I want and deserve. Besides , this is just for the fun of it", you replied back , taking a screenshot of the website so you could look further into it back at home ── you had a 'date' with your close friend after all and there was lots of shopping to do!

Chapter 1 : I guess I have a boyfriend now ?

You didn't know if you were insane for it or not ── did you really care? No , but your bank account was certainly screaming out of pure agony from the amount of money you had spent. Listen , if it's gonna be legit then you'd at least want the robot boyfriend to actually be like how you wanted him to be ── if it's a scam , as embarrassing as that would be , you'd call the police, simple as that.

Despite how unhinged you felt about actually building your own boyfriend , you couldn't help but feel anticipation and maybe even excitement. According to the website , you'll barely remember that it's a robot from how real it'll feel ── from the behavior down to the skin texture and the way it'll talk , the website gave 100% guarantee that it'll feel and act like an actual Human. Well , you'll see whether or not that's true ── or if it will arrive at all.

The only thing you had to do was program his behavior and personality ── you only programmed the personality , you didn't really care about the behavior unless it was like really really icky stuff , you could simply change the program then. Talking about the program , the usb stick you had moved the program on was close to slipping out from between your fingers with the way you have been fiddling with it ── the bottom of your feet gently padding against your wooden flooring as you paced back and forth.

Your 'Boyfriend' was supposed to arrive today fully built together ── all you had to do was stick the usb stick into the port and download the program you have coded and dress him since he'll arrive naked. You even took the day off of work just to receive the package ── it would be embarrassing for you if one of your neighbors received it for you. But then again , you live in the future , a lot of people had their own robots ── just not a robotic lover ... unless they were freaks , guess you were a freak as well then. You prayed that your neighbors wouldn't see it , because from an outsider's perspective : they'd think you ordered a robotic boyfriend because you just were so so lonely ── you were in fact lonely yes , but that wasn't the reason you had ordered it , it was just out of pure curiosity and fun.

You just hoped that the robot would look just the way you had customized it ── honestly, the options they've offered were overwhelming and you had spent at least 3 hours customizing the robot. The options were insane , what do you mean you could even customize the genitals?? The doorbell rang , putting your train of thoughts to a stop and you almost ran to the door to open it.

"Hi , I have a huge package for you ,Miss ,from company B── Yes! Yes I know , haha! Thank you!", you screeched as the delivery guy was close to saying the company's name out loud , a forced bright smile on your face as you spotted one of your neighbors outside before grabbing the stacking cart your package was on. You didn't even give the delivery guy a second to breathe as you placed the package into your apartment on your own before you practically shoved the stacking cart back into the delivery guy's chest and slammed your door shut. That was totally not suspicious, yeah , absolutely.

You let out a heavy sigh , your fingers running through your hair as you made your way to the living room where you placed the Package to lay on the floor. Jesus, that package was fucking huge . Your hands rested on your hips as you hit the pregnant lady stance , your eyes studying the package ── how in the world were you going to open that ?

Well , it was now or never ── you thought as you grabbed a utility knife and cut through the layers of tape that were wrapped around the package to keep it protected. Your heart was starting to pound against your chest as you slowly opened it , a quiet gasp leaving your lips as you discovered what was inside ── there , there it was : your very own Robot.

It was crazy how humane he looked. The pads of your fingers ran along the texture of the face , the synthetic skin really felt like real actual skin. The eyelashes, every single eyebrow hair , every pore on the synthetic skin ── you were impressed with the details. If you wouldn't have known that this was a robot , you'd think that it was an actual human who just looked way too good to be real.

"Alright so... I'll just have to dress him first and then start him..", you mumbled to yourself as your eyes glanced down and ── Jesus christ!? You only put 8 inches as a Joke , you didn't know they were really going to do that! Your wide eyes quickly looked away , feeling slightly awkward .God damn it (Y/n) , get a grip! It's a robot ── you thought to yourself as you took a deep breath and grabbed the clothes from the couch that you had placed there beforehand so you wouldn't need to look for them later. You dressed your Robot in something comfy and casual ── a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie , of course you also dressed him with a pair of boxer shorts underneath and a pair of socks on his feet.

Once fully dressed , you grabbed the USB stick and turned his head over so you could access the USB port and stuck it inside , your finger pressing the power on button on his chest which was funny enough... his left nipple. You couldn't help but pull a thin lipped face at that ── of course it was going to be a nipple , damn.

Suddenly, his eyes opened and looked directly at you , the sudden action making you jump back in surprise. The logo of the company glowed in his eyes before a small loading bar showed up , indicating that the program you've coded was downloading. Before you had a minute to breathe, another jump scare greeted you as he suddenly sat up and just... stared at you. "Uhm... Hi?", you awkwardly raised your hand and gave him a wave to which he only blinked again and copied what you did.

"Hello. My name is Park Sunghoon and from today on I'll be your personal robotic Boyfriend until I'm not needed anymore , destroyed , neglected or discarded ── until then, I'll be by your side (Y/n)", his voice was surprisingly smooth and not ... robotic at all ── that company really did a good job , especially with the design : just like how you customized him.

"Alright... thank you?", well ... your little funsies turned into something legit. How were you going to explain this to your one and only friend Yunjin?

Chapter 2 : To act like a Human

"Wow.... he doesn't look like a robot at all. I expected more static noises and less details.... more like a robot and not like a human. At least he can cook, technology really is a great thing", Yunjin studied Sunghoon from the couch , watching the way he was cooking for you and Yunjin ── he didn't need food after all, sure , he can eat it but it doesn't serve him the same purposes as for Humans. While food provides nutrition for living beings , the food he can or would consume gets turned into energy ── where does it go? Simple, the food gets pulverized inside his stomach.

"I know right... I kind of forget that he's a robot until he pulls up with the all the information's and news you would find on google. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea... he's more like a male housewife than a boyfriend. But he does... treat me good. He gives me foot rubs whenever i come back from work and runs me a bath without me having to ask", Yunjin just looked at you , blinking a couple times before she giggled. "No , yo didn't get a boyfriend. You got a whole damn house husband , man , I'm jealous", Yunjin sipped on her drink before smiling in glee as Sunghoon held out two plates of the meal he just cooked , your eyes looking up meet him dark brown ones. "Are you not going to eat as well?", you asked to which he shook his head.

"Don't be ridiculous, Food doesn't serve me any purpose. It would be a waste for me to eat it", Sunghoon replied back in that monotone voice of his to which you could only sigh. "You have to learn how to ... eat with us... with me ── it would make you appear more human-like", he tilted his head at your response, going through with the words you have said. More Human like? Was he too robotic for your taste? "You...want me to act ... like a human..?", he asked slowly , his eyes narrowing slightly , watching as you nodded your head. "Your wish is my command", with that , he left off to grab himself a plate ── maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to eat.. human food : it does get turned into energy after all for him and it would make him blend in easier. Sure , it wasn't new that robots like him existed ── but maybe you were embarrassed about it? I mean , not everyone wanted to be known as someone who 'dates' a robot.

His eyes glanced to look at you and Yunjin , his eyes quite literally scanning your vitals and your mood as your data bank showed up for him. You were happy and healthy , but he noticed something that made his eyes narrow slightly ── your exhaustion levels were high along with your stress levels. He should have known , not only was he able to see it but the whole week that passed since he arrived made him take note of how much of a workaholic you were .When he 'woke up', you were already gone for work. When you come back home , you'd quickly eat and go straight back to work on your computer. He gave himself a mental reminder to get up an hour earlier every single day so he could track when you'd wake up and record your morning routine. You were his human after all , he had to take care of you so that was mandatory ── that wasn't part of your program though , that was something that was built into his basic system.

"Oh wow... you didn't need to buy all the groceries. I was going to do that", your eyes were wide in surprise as you looked at the grocery bags on the dinner table , his back turned to you as he sorted the items that needed to be refrigerated into your fridge. "Isn't that what humans do?", Sunghoon asked back as he turned around to look at you , a pack of tomatoes in his hands. "I mean yeah... but how did you know..── I have recorded everything you've mumbled under your breath or couldn't find because you ran out of it", Sunghoon interrupted you which only made you raise a brow.

"But I didn't say anything about fresh ingredients... packs of instant noodles would have done the job", you replied back as you walked over to the table to help him but he stopped you , his hand heavy on your shoulder as he rested it there.

"Your diet is unhealthy. You can't get all the nutrition's and proteins you need by eating and drinking instant noodles , energy drinks and coffee every single day. As your boyfriend , I'll take care of you. You will eat two or three meals a day with snacks in between in a healthy moderation. You can still continue drinking your coffee and energy drinks , at least the food needs to be healthy. If you wish for me to not do that , I must disappoint you ── it's stated in your program that you want me to take care of you and to be someone you'll be able to rely on. Now , go into the bathroom. I have run a bath for you and placed freshly washed clothes on the sink counter for you to change in. After that , you will eat and relax a bit. I've recorded your routine and you don't use any free time to relax and destress ── humans are fragile , this will quickly end in a burn out. I have confiscated your laptop so you won't sneak around and try to work on it , you can do that after you've relaxed for at least an hour and ate something", you could only blink , a bit taken aback by the whole monologue he had held and he didn't even give you a second to even reply back , his hand turning you around and giving you a gentle push into the direction of the bathroom.

As much as you wanted to complain... you needed this ── for once in your life , you were actually able to breathe without the weight of the stress weighing down on your chest and making it difficult to breathe.

Chapter 3 : Handsome young Lad── That's your boyfriend ?!

You couldn't shake off that feeling that you had forgotten something at home ── something was missing , but you couldn't place your finger on what it was. Oh well, it wasn't important then ── you thought as you shrugged your shoulders.

The sound of your fingers tapping down on your keyboard joined the sounds of your coworkers' keyboards clicking . The office was quiet otherwise ── well , except for two of your female coworkers giggling and gossiping behind you. It was a nuisance on some days, the days where the office work was more stressful ── you just drowned it out like usual. But then , you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning around , you were met by the same coworkers standing behind you with smiles on their faces. "(Y/n), we're going to karaoke later, do you want to join us?", one of them offered with a smile on her face , feeling giddy about asking you. "Uhm... I don't know... Karaoke isn't really my thing, but thank you for asking", you replied back with a small smile , a look of disappointment flashing in their eyes. " You never really do something with us , it's a shame because we'd really like to be friends with you", the other one asked in a calm yet slightly disappointed tone but they respected your decision.

Come to think of it... you've never tried to do something with your coworkers to strengthen the bond ── company dinners didn't count. Maybe , maybe joining once wouldn't hurt , right? ── especially since you've always politely rejected their offers.

"You know what... I'll join today , but only this once. And I won't sing", their smiles grew back onto their faces and they high fived each other. "We'll take that!", they said in unison and you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath ── it was kind of cute seeing them get so excited over it. "Trust you'll have so much fun! Sua always starts crying in the middle of singing", Mizi said with a giggle , her giggles intensifying as Sua huffed and bumped her shoulder against Mizi's.

But her giggles died down when she saw someone come into the office ── it wasn't a coworker or anyone of the higher ups. A new face maybe? "Hey... I think we're getting a new coworker , a really handsome one at that", Mizi whispered as she nudged her head into the direction , making both you and Sua turn to look at the office entrance ── your jaw dropped.

His eyes locked with yours and he walked over to your desk with big strides. "Sungh── You forgot the lunchbox I made for you...", Sunghoon cut you off as he gently placed a bag on your desk, your back straightened out of the shrimp position you were sat in as your fingers opened the bag to look inside ── all while Mizi and Sua were staring at the scene as if they have discovered an alien.

"Wow Sunghoon... that's ... a lot..", you muttered as you took one of the lunchboxes out ── there were two in total and one thermos can that possibly had soup or coffee in it. "Of course , you skipped breakfast so I packed a lot", he replied back in a matter of fact tone that only made you huff under your breath. Mizi's and Sua's eyes were darting between the two of you back and forth.

"Oh yeah... I'll come back home a bit later than usual. I'm joining Mizi and Sua to the karaoke today", Sunghoon nodded his head , his eyes briefly looking at the mention women to secretly scan them ── he just wanted to see if they had ill intentions with you , you didn't need that stress : but they didn't. "Social interactions , that's good", Sunghoon nodded his head before glancing at his watch.

"Make sure to eat as much as you can , you don't need to finish it all. I'll be leaving now", you nodded your head and waved him off. Only a second passed since Sunghoon stepped a foot outside of the office before Mizi and Sua grabbed your shoulder. "Was that your boyfriend?!", they asked in both shock and joy ── he had to be your boyfriend! You didn't know what to say, you couldn't exactly say roommate since no roommate would do something like that ── and you couldn't tell them that he was your robotic 'boyfriend'. So , you just nodded your head.

"Wow ! You really got a good catch! Not only does he cook for you and bring the food you had forgotten, he's also really handsome!", Sua said in her soft voice , a bright smile on her face ── missing the way Mizi glanced at her in a strange way ,her eyes softening the longer she looked at Sua.

"So good men do exist , huh?", Mizi chuckled to which you could only awkwardly chuckle along ── oh you sweet summer child , if only she knew that he was a robot you had customized , they didn't need to know that though. The two of them went back to their work desks and started to do their tasks , the hours stretching as they seemed to pass slower and slower the closer it got to the end of your shift.

Maybe going to karaoke with the two of them really wasn't that bad ── a small smile on your face as you watched them sing their hearts out to emotional love songs , watching them giggle whenever they missed a word of the lyric or sang in the wrong key. You felt happy and maybe , maybe getting new friends wasn't so bad ── now you don't feel so alone at work anymore.

Chapter 4 : A Human's body and it's reaction

You didn't expect this.

You felt weird about it but at the same time , you didn't care.

Yes , maybe you were weird for it to others ── you already were weird for even ordering him.

But you lived in the future , it didn't matter ── a world that almost got completely ruled by robots : it didn't matter now if you kissed your robot or not. Especially not when he felt so human-like , his lips cold against yours ── the heat of your lips slowly warming his cold ones up.

It all started when he came to you , asking what kissing felt like and what it does with a person. Lately he's been asking you a lot of... strange questions , as if he was questioning himself. He didn't even act the way you've programmed him anymore ── all the traits you programmed slowly disappeared. Don't get me wrong , he was still acting like your ideal type ── but he seemed to have gained his own personality. He started to go outside more , found his own style and even enjoyed going shopping, talked more about random stuff that were on his mind , cracked his own little jokes here and there ── he even applied for a job and started to play games ! It was as if he was trying to erase the part that he was in fact a robot , an artificial intelligence.

Now , one thing led to another after he had asked you if you could kiss him so he could figure out what it felt like and most importantly : How a Human's body reacts to it. Sure , he had his database but ── he wanted to experience it , feel it and discover it on his own.

One of his hands was on the side of your neck , his thumb pressing against your pulse point so he could feel under his thumb how your pulse quickened. Through half lidded eyes , he looked at you through his eyelashes ── watching how your eyelashes pressed against the apple of your cheeks , how your eyebrows furrowed when he pressed his lips harder against yours, Your breathing got hotter and ragged , your fingers clutching onto the shirt he was wearing , as if you were holding onto him to not fall.

His free arm was wrapped around your waist , hand resting on your hip to hold you close. He could feel it , feel the way your body was growing noticeably warmer under his touch , the way you shuddered when he started to experiment by licking your lips with the tip of his tongue ── yes , his tongue was indeed wet. If he had a heart , it would beat as fast as yours ── but there wasn't a heartbeat in his chest no , only the mechanical sounds vibrating in his chest to simulate a heartbeat that you could only hear if you'd press your ear against his chest.

You pulled away to take a breather , your lungs burning from the lack of air while his eyes were focused on your face ── the vital status in his eyes tracked that your cheeks were hot , your lips were slightly swollen and parted as you panted under your breath. So , this was what kissing does to a human...? From simple lips on lips contact with a little bit of tongue? This only made him curious ── he wanted more , he wanted to discover more , he wanted to find out what exactly would happen if this went further.

He didn't let go of you , the hand against the side of your neck sliding up to your face , his thumb under your chin to lift your head up so he could study you more properly.

"You're aroused", he stated calmly which only made the heat rise to your cheeks more intensely , giggling nervously. "Pshhhh , noooooo ", you tried to brush it off but he didn't falter.

"You are. I can see it. Your body temperature increased, your breathing got heavier and hotter ── your chest is heaving. Your cheeks are really hot , your heart is beating faster. Your estrogen levels also have risen", he explained as you pressed your lips tightly together ── god , of course he'd know. It's been a while since you've last had some sexual action or even kissed someone like that ── of course you'd react that way , especially with how surprisingly good he could kiss.

You stayed quiet , not quite sure what to reply back as you looked down at the floor.

"Are you embarrassed? But isn't that a normal human reaction? That's nothing to be embarrassed about , right?", he asked in a confused tone , his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion ── was he wrong?

"I am... and yes , it is a normal reaction.... it can just be... a little embarrassing for a person , you know..?", you mumbled under your breath.

"So some Humans feel embarrassed for getting aroused..? But that's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about", he was suddenly deep in thoughts. What did embarrassment even feel like? Or shame? He wished he could find out what it felt like , but he simply can't ── he doesn't have built in emotions like that. A real shame if you'd ask me.

His stare on you was starting to get suffocating , you started to feel so so small under his gaze which he took note of before the next question came.

"What do human's do when they feel aroused?"

You felt the air in your lungs get knocked out as his question reached your ears , taken aback by the intimate question he asked so casually ── (Y/n) , remember , he's a robot. You coughed awkwardly.

"Well uhm... depends? If they're in a relationship or... really open minded , they'll have sex in most cases. If they're single , like me , they uhm.. you know , pleasure themselves..", this was so embarrassing! You just wanted to crawl into a hole and die... maybe touch yourself before that , but you just wanted to crawl away!

"You're not , you have me . I'm your boyfriend", he stated , his finger tapping against your cheek. Somehow , hearing those words from him made your heart skip a beat. Right , technically seen , he was your boyfriend so you also technically seen weren't single.

You sighed ── may lord give you the power to handle explaining it to him. The real reason why he's here.

"Technically, yeah but .. okay listen Sunghoon ── I didn't customize and ordered you to be my boyfriend. I thought the website was a scam and just... did it for fun. Yes , I've spent a lot of money just for some fun , I have enough money to spare but... I didn't expect it to be legit", his eyes bore into you as you explained it to him , his facial expression unchanging.

"But do you want me to be your boyfriend?", his question caught you off guard again , your head snapping up to look up to him.

"I..."

He blinked.

"That's not how humans work... right?", you nodded your head and he hummed before pulling you closer to him until your chest was pressing against his.

"I'll simply make you catch feelings for me. I am everything you want ── from the looks down to the personality. But human feelings , they can't be forced ── especially something like love , am i correct?", you nodded your head again and for the first time , you saw the corners of his lips tug up into a smile.

"Then I'll make you fall for me. Considering that I am the boyfriend you'd want , I doubt that you'll find someone who meets your standards ── no one can compare to me , you'll never be happy ".

Three weeks have passed since the day you and Sunghoon had kissed and the promise that he was going to make you fall for him ── his plan was working , which you didn't like to admit.

He started to act more ... like himself in a way. He wasn't acting like a robot anymore , not at all ── he was becoming more and more human-like. You started to forget that he was a robot.

He started to wake you up for work with breakfast in bed , help you with small things such as getting items from a higher shelf or opening jars for you ── even simple things such as restocking your stash of feminine products. He even started to decorate the apartment he lives with you in , even the room that he was staying in ── the once blank room that only had his charging station in it had some furniture. Yes , his room was minimalistic but it was neat and clean , reflecting his personality and even showcasing what he's recently been obsessed with ── his collection of glasses.

Whenever you'd come back home and step into your room , you'd be greeted with pure relaxation. He'd light scented candles up , make sure you'd come back home to a clean and cozy smelling room that just wants to make you lay in bed and read a book or binge watch a show. He also made sure to get you a fresh bouquet of flowers every third day , if the flower shops were closed , he'd simply go outside and handpick flowers for you.

Whenever you needed comfort , he'd light some scented candles and make everything cozy and comfortable for you , letting you settle down before he'd gently massage your feet or shoulders while coaxing you to talk with him about it. Damn was he good ── and exactly what you wanted. You weren't complaining about the fact that he started to reject the program you had installed into him ── the fact that everything he was doing and even doing things out of his own will , it just set your standards on a higher level.

"Sunghoon I ....", he glanced up from his book as he heard you speaking , a small yet soft smile on his face as he set the book on his nightstand and held his hand out to you so you would come over ── which you did. Your feet softly padded against your wooden flooring as you walked over to his bed , your hand finding his and he gently pulled you to sit on his bed.

"What's wrong ? Do you feel sick? Upset?", he asked , his eyes softening while his thumb rubbed gentle circles into the back of your hand.

You shook your head.

"No I... I want to remove the program I had installed", his thumb stopped at your words , his eyes widening a little and he tilted his head slightly. "Are you sure that that's what you want?"

You nodded your head.

"I don't think that it's necessary anymore. You've ... gained your own personality and started to act on your own , not what the program wants and ... I like that because ── that's your doing , that's Park Sunghoon and not Park Sunghoon the robot..", he stayed quiet for a second before he sat up straight. "Alright , It will take a little though. Are you 100% sure you want to remove it?", he asked as he looked at you , a mint colored circle now in his eyes ── the same circles he had when you first turned him on.

"Yes"

With that , the uninstallation happened ── a small loading bar in his eyes again to show the process. He didn't speak , he just stared and didn't move ── as if his system had shut down.

You just sat there holding onto his hand before the circles started to slowly vanish once the procedure was completed and he blinked , his eyes slowly shifting to look at you again. "It's done , it's gone", he grinned before leaning his back against his pillows again. He didn't know why , but it somehow relieved him ── he didn't feel as if he was being controlled anymore by some program.

"Do you.... want to stay in my room?", he offered after a couple seconds of silence.

You accepted the offer.

You didn't know how much time had passed , but enough time passed by for you to fall asleep while he was reading his book , your body curled next to his . His eyes glanced at you , his facial expression softening and he reached a hand out to brush the strands of hair out of your face before resting on your back , tracing patterns and shapes of hearts against it while he went back to reading.

But something was plaguing his mind. He wished he was a human , because if he was , his heart would be beating quickly instead of the mechanics in his chest turning.

Chapter 5 : Fuck AI ! Let's have sobotic rex ── i mean , robotic sex

"Are you okay? Are you in pain──"

Horror.

This felt like pure horror to you. Your eyes were just as wide as his as he stared at you like a deer caught in the headlights , your cheeks growing hotter than before.

How were you going to explain to him why your hand was in your pants and the other hand under your shirt playing with your nipples ?

You didn't even need to.

"Are you pleasuring yourself?", he asked casually as he closed the door behind him and walked over to your bed , sitting down by the end of it. You quickly took your hands out of your pants and your shirt , shaking your head which in hindsight , was stupid ── it was so fucking clear that you were. And the reason for that was him. Yes , him.

Why him?

Well , he decided to be a little extra touchy in a subtle way. He grabbed your chin and tilted your head up so he could apply your lip balm for you , he made you sit down and took your shoes off for you with his fingers caressing from your ankles down to your feet, he grabbed your waist from behind while he was reaching for something that was in front of you. It was just subtle things that got you worked up , or maybe it was because you were touch starved? Or maybe it was the way he pressed a kiss on your lips in such a slow and sensual way that had you gasping for air. Those actions were enough to keep you up at night , feeling horny and needing to relieve yourself ── which he caught you in.

You still weren't dating per se , but the tension was in the air.

"Why did you stop?", his question knocked the air out of your lungs , his head tilting to the side as if this was the most normal encounter ── greeting a neighbor as an example.

"Well..."

"I wanted to watch , so I know how to make you feel good and what you like"

His reply had you , once again , feeling breathless , your heart pounding against your chest and your arousal grew. Oh how you love men that want to learn about a woman's pleasure ── shucks that he was a robot, but you didn't care anymore, you've long stopped caring about it. You didn't see him as a Robot as bizarre as that sounded considering he was one , you saw him as a person.

"Unless.. you're uncomfortable with that? But your estrogen levels have risen again so I'm a little confused", he continued , his eyes intensely staring at you before he blinked again.

"No I'm just... a little taken aback ... that's all", you muttered before taking in a deep breath , nodding your head a little as your fingers grabbed the waistband of your shorts. The chances that you'll end up with him for the rest of your life were higher than you finding a living being as your partner ── the idea of dating a living person didn't even appeal to you anymore. So what if you end up dating a Robot , the world has changed a lot and most people are either dating a robot or living with one.

His eyes drifted down to your bottom half as you slowly pulled your shorts down along with your cotton panties , taking in how your fingers trembled slightly under his watchful gaze and then he saw it ── his lips parting slightly in awe as your glistening pussy slowly got revealed to him.

He watched how you slowly spread your folds apart , strings of arousal sticking from one fold to the other , the result of just how fucking wet you were. His eyes then shifted back up to you.

"You’ve stimulated your nipples , right? Can you do that for me again?"

You shivered and nodded your head , sitting up a little to take your shirt off , your nipples already hard from the previous stimulation.

His eyes roamed your body from top to bottom , taking in every single detail about you and how your body was reacting before they stopped at your pussy. He just felt... so fascinated by it , how wet it was , how your clit was slightly engorged and how your hole was clenching and unclenching ── he simply felt captivated , so captivated that he came closer until his head was between your legs, leaning against your knee. He wanted to see it up close , he wanted the first row view of seeing you touch yourself.

It was as if he was taking notes in his mind ... well , he was , his eyes focused on what you were doing. You slowly trailed non dominant from your stomach up to your chest , gently kneading one of your boobs and letting your thumb circle your nipple before flicking it gently ── meanwhile your dominant hand went down to town.

You slid your middle finger from your clit down to your hole , your index and ring finger spreading your folds apart again so he could see what exactly you were doing and how ── how you used your thumb to tease yourself by letting it lightly graze your clit , enough to feel it but not enough to stimulate it properly. It was just enough to have your own hips involuntarily buck up against your hand.

Your cheeks were burning hotter than ever , your heart pounding so hard you felt it in your pussy ── or maybe that was just your pussy screaming at you to fucking do something finally. But you didn't shy away , not when he looked so captivated by what he was seeing.

You dipped your finger past your entrance , only the tip of it to slowly slick you finger up with your arousal until you've completely pushed it in. His eyes continued to stare , lips parting at the way your entrance stretched a little around the girth of your finger.

You gave yourself a couple pumps of your finger , your thumb lazily stroking your clit while your other hand was busy playing with your nipples , tucking and squeezing them gently or just straight up kneading the lump of fat.

But his hand on your wrist stopped you from pumping your fingers into your pussy , a quiet whine leaving your lips.

"I want to try..? Can I ? Will you let me try?"

Another wave of lust hit you as he asked that with those stupidly sparkly eyes of his , your teeth sinking into your bottom lip for a second while you nodded your head and pulled your finger out of your pussy.

He lifted his right hand up to his mouth , parting his lips as he slowly glid his fingers past them to get them wet in his mouth ── honestly , he didn't need to do that because of how fucking wet you already were , but the sight got you even wetter than before.

He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and sat up before scooting closer so he was sitting between your legs , his left hand placed on your inner thigh and pressing it down a little to part your legs more. He copied what you did , letting his fingers caress from your pubic bone down to your pussy , fingers tracing the shape of your folds just to get a feel before letting his wet digits caress over your clit as well ── he could feel it , feel the way your clit was twitching under the pads of his fingers from the short touch.

His eyes then glanced at you.

"Did I say you could stop stimulating your nipples? Keep going ... it makes you feel good , no?", his words held some authority in them even though he wasn't even intending for them to sound like that , but it certainly got your pussy clenching around nothing , impatiently waiting for his fingers to stuff it.

And your pussy would have smiled in glee once they did , two of his slender digits slowly pressing against your entrance before pushing in , his eyes watching how your entrance slowly stretched around them. He could feel it , feel how warm and wet your pussy was , how you velvety walls stretched to welcome his fingers inside. He once again was fascinated by the female human body.

Oh and the slow sigh of relief you let out when he was knuckle deep inside , your walls shifting and pulsing around his fingers with every breath you took , now what would happen when he'd move his fingers?

A quiet moan left your lips as he started to slowly pump his fingers , curling them slightly to let the pads of fingers drag up against your g spot. He was loving this. Loving how your pussy just welcomed in , how sweet you sounded whenever he hit the spot with a little bit of force , how he could feel the way your soft warm walls tightened and relaxed around his fingers ── he wanted more.

It was as if he had gained a rush of confidence , knowing how he was making you feel good without even trying ── he was experiencing and learning how to treat your body. Every moan , whimper or soft sigh you let out ── it just made him want to do so much more. Robots couldn't feel horny, they couldn't feel lust or arousal ── but you sure made him feel those emotions. His fingers pumped inside your pussy with a faster pace , his thumb stroking your clit in a slower pace so he wouldn't be too rough on you and a rush of excitement rushed through his system as he felt your pussy clenching around his fingers ── you were close.

"Why?", you whined out as your eyes shot open , an almost pitiful expression on your face as your orgasm got ripped away from you , your pussy clenching around nothing as he had pulled his fingers out.

He just leaned in and placed a kiss on your clit , chuckling under his breath when he saw how your body twitched ── a human's body could be so sensitive , it was cute to him , you were cute to him.

"I want to have sex with you", he sat up , looking at you with sparkly eyes ── he wanted to learn more , so much more. He wanted to put his cock to good use. His words , once again , left you stunned. He was so blunt with his words that it just left you stunned.

You thought for a second. Did you even want it? Fuck yeah , you did. You didn't even know robots could feel lust. It was as if he was able to read your mind , maybe he could.

"Robots don't feel lust or arousal... but you somehow made me able to .... have this desire for you. I want more. I want to hear and see more , i want to feel more. I want to put my cock to good use and make you feel good. You sound so pretty when you're receiving pleasure and enjoy yourself", his words had your cheeks rushing with blood again , your heart pounding harder against your chest and you could feel your clit twitching just because of those words alone.

"Okay.... let's have sex , make me feel good Sunghoon", god did you sound even better when you said his name in that breathless voice of yours and his fingers didn't waste a second to quickly take his clothes off ── it was only fair if he was completely naked as well.

It was a bit comical that his cock was hard in just a second , as if your words were a verbal command to his system to harden it ── again , technology never failed to surprise you.

"Can you just turn that on and off however you like?", you asked with a giggle but you were genuinely curious. He nodded his head.

"I can actually , meaning that I can go as long as you want or until you're satisfied. I don't have a stamina limit", he replied back as his hand wrapped around the girth of his cock while you reached for your nightstand to take out a bottle of lube.

"Are those anal beads , a vibrator and a butt plug?"

You shrieked and slammed the drawer shut , his eyes curious as they looked at you. "I'm sorry , was that embarrassing for you again? Don't feel embarrassed about it. If that's what you're into , embrace it with confidence. A healthy sex life is good", you just felt even more embarrassed from his words but also better about yourself , didn't stop you feeling embarrassed though.

You just held the bottle of lube out to him which he took , squirting some of the gel like liquid onto his cock to spread it with his hand and also spread some on your entrance.

He wiped his lube-covered hand on his shirt , making a mental note not to wear it again before washing it and grabbed your legs , pulling you closer until the head of his cock was nudging your clit.

"I'll be slow", he reassured as he saw you glancing down at his cock with concern , his cock now looking even bigger than before now that it was nudging against your clit.

He took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours , his other hand guiding his cock from your clit down your slit until the head of his cock was pressing against your entrance and slowly pushed it in.

His cock was cold but quickly got warm as your heat embraced it. He was taking his time , pushing inch after inch slowly after waiting a couple seconds whenever you took another inch in. His whole cock didn't fit inside of you so he left it be , it wasn't as if he could feel pleasure anyway ── your comfort was his comfort , so was your pleasure.

A shaky breath escaped your lips as he slowly started to move , his cock was slightly curved which made the head of his cock press right against your gspot whenever he made it all the way back against your cervix.

He was being so slow and gentle until you told him to go a bit faster , your moans and whimpers of his name bouncing off the walls. His pace quickened again , his eyes focused on your face and how you were trembling beneath him , how your fingers pressed into the back of his hand and he felt it again ── he once again felt how your pussy clenched around his cock harder than before , as if you were afraid he'd rip another orgasm right under your fingertips again.

And the moan you let out once you came , how your walls quivered around his length and how your back arched off the bed ── he was obsessed with it. Giving you pleasure and making you feel good , that was his pleasure.

Chapter 6 : To Love

"So , you're telling me that you had sex with your uhm Robot 'boyfriend' and that you love him?", Yunjin asked as if she wasn't surprised by this at all , sipping on her iced americano as she looked at you.

You just nodded your head.

"Yeah well ... i told him that I only bought him as a Joke and that yes , he technically was my boyfriend but I didn't had any feelings for him there... He just , treats me so well and actually made me fall for him. It's just so weird because he's a Robot but he is all I want and I will never find someone like him again ── with the same looks and character. What will people think , Yunjin? They'll judge me for it", you sighed out , running your fingers through your hair to soothe yourself. She placed her hand on top of yours.

"(Y/n) , we live in the future. Half of the globe gets ruled by Robots. If you really love him and are happy with him , that's good. Do your thing and stop caring about what other's think. Most people won't even notice that he's a robot with how humane he is. My partner even is a robot and you've never noticed it because they're so humane. Look at that couple over there , the Woman is also a robot but acts so humane ── anyone would think they're two humans in love", you hummed and nodded your head , she's right , nobody gives a shit if you date a robot or not.

"You're right... I'll go tell him that I want him to be my boyfriend", you said as you suddenly sat him , every ounce of embarrassment or shame fading into thin air. You wanted to scream at Sunghoon that you love him.

....

and you did. Now it was his turn to be stunned.

"Woah Woah Woah, you didn't need to scream at me", Sunghoon chuckled as he took his apron off. You had ambushed him in the middle of cooking. He folded his apron and placed it to the side , his feet carrying him over to you , an almost smug expression on his face.

"So my plan to make you fall for me worked?", he chuckled , feeling happy about it while his hands found their way to your waist to pull you towards him.

"It did... you've ruined every man for me that I could've possibly liked. You're the one for me ... robot or not , you're just for me", you mumbled as you rested your hands on his chest , feeling the way the mechanics in his body turned under the palm of your hands.

He stayed silent for a second , his right hand grabbing one of your hands to guide it up to his lips , his lips leaving a kiss that lingered on the back of your hand.

"I'm glad... because you were able to make a Robot fall in love with you. You make me wish that I had a beating a heart , a warm body out of blood and flesh , emotions that aren't programmed into me ── you make me wish I was a human. You made me realize and learn what love was and felt like , a feeling i have developed for you. I love you , (Y/n)", his words made you smile softly , your heartbeat getting faster and you leaned your head against his chest , your arms wrapping around his waist.

"I love you too, Sunghoon"

He wrapped his arms around you , holding you in a soft and gentle embrace with his lips pressing against your forehead ── but there was a sour expression on his face.

Why did he have to be a robot? He wanted to be a Human so he could love you even more than he already did.

[hoonieangel]

🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

away we happened

pairing: park sunghoon x reader genre: strangers to lovers, enemies to lovers, smau/fake texts, sort of long distance, business man!sunghoon x photographer!yn warnings: profanity, friendly teasing, internet brain rot humor, just the usual! 18+ not proofread pls ignore typos heh

synopsis: yn and sunghoon run into each other at the airport after an argument. thankfully they'll never have to see each other ever again until they both notice that they've accidentally taken each other's bags.

inspired by "away we happened" a short youtube series by wong fu productions

hoonieyun notes: what do we think... does this deserve a part 2? i did leave it on quite a cliffhanger.. let me know :p

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @manaah02 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @kristynaaah @17ericas @heeseung64 @leipforggy @s1rawb3rry

copyright 2025 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned. if you enjoyed reading this please consider reblogging and following <3

[hoonieangel]

i love this series 🩷🩷

GROUP CHAT!

it's everyone against eachother. lovingly.

yn x bsf enha roommates series! smau drabbles. previous! mlist!

perms:

@nikiswifiee @ancnymcnzjy @ja4hyvn @17ericas @hoonieyun @jellyluv4eva @wheretheheckis-ssaki @hyukabeanie @gxwesn @tojiworshipper @wonuziex

[hoonieangel]

heeseung be nonchalant challenge failed

see you at the movies: 08. the proposal

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author's note: hi besties 😭💌 first of all, i’m so sorry for the delay in updating!! the past few weeks were kinda hectic and my brain was all over the place, but i’m back now 🫡 writing this chapter had me laughing so much bc this d&d group of idiots completely wrecked me 😭 i hope you guys laugh as much as i did writing it 💗 thank u sm for still being here, love u always

taglist: @jayparked @rairaiblog @nqdirr @iyoonjh @jakesimfromstatefarm @kirbrary @sunoosput4 @somuchdard @nijisanjigenshin @zoemeltigloos @the-belching-toe @usuallyunlikelyfox @lveegsoi @blvengene @5oyongdori @kittympirty @jeongingf1 @kukkurookkoo @dazzlingjaeyun @haechology @tbyangel @jaeminchiaa @v1shwa-xo @manuosorioh @s0shroe @jiyeons-closet @dollechan @luceyyy2 @bambi-lia @dazeymazey11 @planetmarlowe @ikeulove @delirioastral @xoenhalover @honeyedfate @reikaxslvr @i-peachesandstrawberries @luhvletters @strayy-kidz @lovenha7 @wonuziex @strayy-kidz @yuuuraaa @saeris-world @stylishcaprisuns

[hoonieangel]

best thing in the world

My favorite part about the enhypen fanfiction community is that one of the boys could post ONE pic on weverse or something and ya'll will have 30 fics up about that one pic within a hour. #gymrat sunghoon