#bigger reader

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?

tw; suggestive language, cursing, MDNI, reader stands up for herself, meanie!simon turned into soft!simon, angry!reader, misunderstandings to lovers. fem!reader (chubby, yes, mostly what i write, i gotta give my girls some love.)

You were used to you being the only person without a boyfriend. You were used to people looking at you, or bullying you, and at first it hurt, sure, when you were a kid. But you were used to the people now, you were done being the laughing stock of everyone. It's been a long time since anyone's insulted, you for one reason; They know you bite. Working a dead-end job in a coffee shop with customers either rude or sweet, it's a constant mood change. It's like an emotional rollercoaster, and most of the time it all ended in a shit-show. But whenever anyone's really ever hurt your feelings, you never bit back during your shift. You did it afterwards, when you were off your shift, when you had nothing to lose.

Your manager loved you. Sweet and bubbly, never rude, only after shifts. You knew who to treat right, and you knew who to treat with just a decent amount of respect, never more than they deserved it. He loved it about you, besides, you reminded him a lot of his daughter. He stepped into the shop, he walked like he owned the shop. Blonde hair, tired eyes, you've seen his type before. And you hated it already. Just wanted to punch him in the face. You knew he was gonna be bitchy, maybe make a comment on your weight. You were prepared for all of it, even for your snappy comments. But that didn't stop you from being respectful at first, because even looks can lie. "Welcome to Whisk And Steam, what can I get started for you today, gentlemen?" You asked, noticing his friend behind him. Looked like a scot. "If anything, looks like we need to get YOU started on a weight loss journey," Looks like the "looks can lie" didn't hit this time. You really weren't in the mood for this, so you tried being nice again. That usually gets them to shut up. "I'm sorry sir, could you please order? You are keeping up the line." He chuckled and looked at you up and down. "No, you're keeping up the line. You're keeping up the whole place, lady. Isn't your manager afraid you're gonna eat everything on here?" You snapped. "Isn't your mom afraid you're gonna do drugs? With that look in your eyes, Coffee isn't the only thing you're addicted to." You crossed your arms and tilted your head. "Are you gonna order the fuck up, or are you gonna leave the store?" His eyes widened, and he swallowed. He was caught off guard for a second, he didn't expect you to snap back. "Feisty." He said, before continuing; "Looks like that mouth does do things other than eat. It can yap too." You grabbed him by the collar. "Listen here man I don't know who the fuck you think you are, either be respectful and nice, or just go. Seriously, you don't have to be an asshole just cause you don't feel good, and if you're gonna be like that anyway, can't you be a little more original? If you have such a big problem with my weight you can either-" And that's all he heard before he cut off. He looked at your lips while you talked and grabbed his collar, just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. How can he be manhandled into that? He couldn't keep his eyes off of your chest, either. So plump, soft.. How could he focus on anything else, when you were so close? Who cares if people see him ogling at a bigger girl, it's only normal. Who the fuck even cares? He wasn't even insulting you because he meant it. He was feeling in the mood to fuck with some people, but he found you attractive. Besides, bigger girl, more to love, more to grab, yeah? He wasn't the type of guy to say only dogs play with bones but... He sure as hell considered himself a hungry lion. He was wondering what your mouth could do, other than snap back. Hell he was imagining it, so bad... "- Or just leave! Which one's it gonna be?!" You asked, angrily, and that's what snapped him out of it. He stayed silent for a few seconds before leaning away from you and scratching the back of his head with an awkward smile. "..A date?"

A/N; something something very happy to be here ty for all the attention something something sorry this was rushed i have therapy tomorrow so i gotta scram</3

[self-indulgent-devils]

PLEASE jax and chubby reader hcs thank you

Oh hell yeah!

Jax x Chubby Reader headcanons

Things will be gender neutral. May switch between using they and you for referring to reader. Will be sfw with some minor implications otherwise. But nothing explicit.

💜Jax x Chubby Reader Headcanons💜

Jax seeing you for the first time and instantly feeling something he's not used to. There's just something about you he likes (it's cause you're chubby and he adores that shit.) Instantly he loves to mess with you right away. Messing with your head, trying to freak you out, oh how he loves seeing your reactions. Especially if you're someone that does react to it like Ragatha or Gangle. If you're someone that doesn't react, it just means he has to try harder and he does enjoy a challenge.

Jax secretly glancing at your body every single time he can. You look so squishy and huggable. He doesn't care about personal space so any time he wraps an arm around you or squishes your chubby tummy or your thighs or your fat arms, it seems relatively normal. Because it's him just trying to mess with you, right? Meanwhile inside he's savoring the feeling of it. If he could bring you back to his room and just hold you next to him in his bed, he would. But he's not going to let that show. He's the asshole that hates everyone and he doesn't need anyone seeing how he really feels.

Even though he hides it as just enjoying messing with you, he ends up getting pretty close with you. If he is able to make you laugh then it makes him swoon even more. Seeing that smile on your chubby face and your belly move as you laugh. It is like heaven to him.

If you're the type to be his partner in crime, he will absolutely fucking love it. Usually no one is into his little tricks and pranks and jokes. It's weird at first to him, but he's happy to have it. He's even willing to share the keys he has for everywhere with you. It also lets him have a perfect excuse of inviting you over to his room or even forcibly inviting himself to stay the night in your room.

Jax doesn't really do boundaries. He doesn't really care. So he will love to feel you all over whenever he wants. If you react to it then he'll just love to see the way you react. Especially if you're someone insecure about being chubby/fat since we can't always help it. He will love to tease and make you all insecure for his own enjoyment. When secretly, he absolutely adores you and sees no reason why you should feel bad. It doesn't matter what other people think so why do you care when it's not even their body? He can't understand it one bit.

If it ever became serious that you were fucked up over how your body looks, he would feel so fucking guilty. He'd probably start leaving secret notes and other things to make sure you're still caring for yourself. Even if there's no need to eat, he will share food as if making sure you're going to eat right. Last thing he'd ever want is to see you abstract or hate yourself. He'd even lay off the jokes about your body as soon as he sees how serious it's getting. Of course it won't be obvious, but he'll even include little jokes that encourage you about your body. Things like "You have the body to take on the world" "Bigger is better, right?" "You don't really have that body, do you? I'm sure some random person out there will love it." It can sound mean or like another mockery of you being bigger, but he's just trying to make it not obvious that he's genuinely wanting you to feel better after his cruel jokes putting you down. After all, if anything changed with your body (if that were even possible in the circus) or if you abstracted because of him making fun of your body, he has no idea what he would do. Though no one will ever obviously know how he feels.

Imagine if you're someone that can see through him. Oh he would hate that, but it would also only make him love you even more. Someone that sees him and understands him even when he does so well at hiding it all, at pretending he doesn't care and hates everyone, at feeling like nothing matters with them trapped here. It'll send him into a spiral for a bit. Often messing with you even more and especially getting to squeeze and hug and feel your body more. Because to him, that chubbiness is a comfort. Like hugging a stuffed animal. It feels soft and safe. Even if it's for a few seconds while messing with you, it makes him feel better. He cannot understand how someone can see through him and understand him. It makes him so uneasy so he will overcompensate with his jokes and pranks and apathy to hide it even more. Not that you couldn't obviously tell what was going on anyway.

Secretly he's there wishing to spend every night with you. Doing whatever he wanted. He would love to see your body in its glory. It's not fair that he can only admire it from afar or the few times he grabs you and makes it seem like he's just messing with you. Sometimes if you're a heavy sleeper, he'll sneak into your room just to curl up and hold you for a bit. But he has to make sure you're not going to wake up. He just needs to feel you. Sometimes he'll always move some clothing just to see, run his hands over your most fatty areas, even squish your chubby face. But he won't risk it too much and will quickly leave back to his own room. His mind filled with how it felt to see you and feel you. Using that to be able to fall asleep at night while hugging a pillow.

It isn't likely he would ever confess honestly. But if you can manage to form a friendship with him or be the one to confess first, you have a chance.

If he were to confess though, he'd do it in private and probably at night when others are asleep. He may enter your room as you sleep then wake you up and tell you he has something he wants to talk to you about. Or he'll leave some surprise gifts in your room. Even if he weren't going to confess, he'd probably leave you a Jax plushie to have. Especially if you're someone that loves plushies. He'd also find other things you like and enjoy and secretly give them to you. It's obvious enough it's from him, but he may not outright ever say it. Still, you could probably tell.

If things get serious about your body again and you feel uncomfortable especially being the only chubby person at the circus, Jax would try to come see you at night. He'd enter your room or if you've just been in there for days, he's going to unlock your door and go in. He'll try to joke a bit and explore your room, go through your drawers and closet, touch every little thing in there. But if he sees his jokes aren't working then he knows he's gotta be serious. He makes you swear to not tell anyone else in the circus. Before telling you how he feels and that he finds you beautiful. Every little thing that he loves about you and how beautiful your body is. How much he loves someone chubby and loved you the moment you appeared here in the circus.

Now for when you're actually dating. He'll eventually not care who knows. They're better off knowing that you belong to HIM. He can be jealous and possessive, but usually doesn't have to worry as long as he can mark you.

He will love to hold you close and will almost always demand to sleep in your room or have you sleep in his room.

He would love to feed you at each of the meals especially if you're embarrassed or flustered by it.

He would love it if he can make you all embarrassed and flustered with his love. Especially if you're more easily embarrassed about being held or touched or kissed or anything.

He would love for you to sit on his lap. Feeling your bigger body against his thin and sleek body as his big cartoon hands run over your body, squeezing your fat, nuzzling his face into you and breathing in your scent, playing with hair if you have any, feeling every possible inch of you. He would fucking adore it. He loves feeling your weight on him.

Jax would absolutely adore taking your clothes. Especially if you have shirts. He would love to just be wearing one of your shirts that's too big for his very thin body. He loves the fact that you're opposites in body, especially since he's cartoonishly thin and also flat. Plus if you ever don't wanna share a bed then he'll just take a shirt to wear and snuggle in. It'll feel like he has you with him. Like you're hugging him.

No matter what you'd be like, he'd love you. Tall, short, super fat, just slightly chubby, no matter where the fat really shows, no matter what your form would look like in the circus, he would love you. Jax is only picky about one thing and that's if they can catch his interest. You can do that so there's no worries he'd absolutely love you. That and he definitely loves someone bigger. The size differences especially with his form in the circus is heavenly to him. Even in the real world it was like that, but he can't really remember that so he only has the circus for context.

He loves to be able to pick you up with his cartoonish strength. Holding you close, carrying you around, being able to move your body easily, pin you against the wall or the bed or a couch or anything. Jax would love to be able to do that. Doesn't matter if you're taller than him too, he will absolutely still do that to you and act like a dominant bitch because he can. Especially if you're someone that's flustered by it or you're taken aback by it. The embarrassment and look of shock on your fucking gorgeous chubby face will always make his heart pound. And he would absolutely kiss you right then if you'd let him.

Being able to kiss you while you're sitting on him, laying on top of him, him holding you, him trapping or pinning you somewhere would make him feel so fucking happy. Being able to love you while he can have you there in his arms or against him is the absolute best. Once you're actually dating, he will always make it clear that you're sexy and gorgeous as fuck and he will love you for it no matter what. And that your body is exactly what he loves about you.

It's not likely anyone in the circus would make you feel like shit for your weight or body. Really, Jax is the only one that would do that. But if someone ever came along that made you feel like shit, he would probably get into an actual fight. And then take you back to his room and spend the entire time doing anything he can to make sure that you KNOW you're fucking perfect and he would never want you any other way unless it was your fucking choice, coming from a genuine place and not just cause you're being shamed for it. You're his chubby bunny (regardless of if you have a bunny form or not, he calls you that) and he won't let anyone ruin that for him or you. And he will spend the whole time loving you and your body as if you were a god he was worshipping.

It's not often Jax gets close to anyone, but no matter what you're like, you can manage to make him swoon. It may take a bit to get to dating him, especially if you're not someone that can take the lead, but you already have his heart. Whether you know it or not. And even if he's hiding how he feels, one day he's gonna make you his. No one else in the circus can have you. And if there were ever a way to escape, Jax would hope like hell that he could find you again and hope that you'd like him too. Cause things would be different if you guys could ever leave. But for now in the circus, he has eternity with you. And that's what he fucking loves. An eternity with his chubby bunny. You make the circus better for him. He's gonna make sure you never abstract and nothing ever happens to you. Cause Jax loves you and your fantastically beautiful chubby body.

[snail-day]

You swear Geto ends up on his tummy more often than not. Draped across the bed like a lazy cat, broad back rising and falling with each breath, that beautiful inky dark hair tied half-heartedly in a low bun that’s already slipping loose. A few strands fall against his cheek, casting a shadow over those long lashes and the lazy curve of his mouth. He’s so annoyingly pretty like this - it’s tempting to attack him.

And he lets you.

One hand lazily typing on his phone, sending a message to Satoru asking when he’s going to be home. So you pounce while you have the chance. (Not like he'd stop you.)

You straddle him, smack his ass a few times, knead your fingers into the plushest parts of him as if he’s your own personal stress toy. And he just hums with every little assault. Sometimes you bite him, sink your teeth into his shoulder, just to feel the sharp intake of breath, to catch the subtle twitch of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Getting it all out of your system?” he drawls, unbothered, sending a help gif to Satoru. A message that receives a heart react.

You slip cold hands beneath the hem of his dark shirt and he doesn’t even flinch. Just lets out another low hum, close to a purr, amused and warm. His chest is stupidly firm under your palms, radiating heat, and you swear he could flip you over and trap you beneath him without even trying.

But he doesn’t.

Because he’s patient. Always has been, out of the two of you. He knows that eventually, you’ll wear yourself out, that you’ll end up curled right where he wants you. And so he lets you play, lets you giggle and wiggle and bite until your energy runs thin, until you’re soft and sleepy against his side, cheek pressed to his bulky shoulder, body tucked beneath the weight of his arm.

Then he turns. Just his head at first, those wine-dark eyes cutting to you through thick, heavy lashes. That slow, feline smile starts to curl across his lips. He watches you for a moment, messy, warm, half-limp beneath him, still letting out the occasional spurt of giggles.

And then he drawls, voice syrup-slow and honey-soft, just enough to make your stomach flip. For your giggles to turn nervous:

“My turn.”

[shotmrmiller]

getting shot down by ghost without even asking him out or anything because he'd heard from one scottish bird that your type of guy was exactly like him and thinking back on it now, all the qualities you'd listed for your dream man do sound like as if you were describing him. yikes.

you don't take his rejection to heart, even though it does lightly sting but before you get a chance to explain that said scottish bird is an idiot and very mistaken in his assumption, ghost is telling you that it'd never work, you'd only get hurt and that you do take to heart because what does that mean, exactly? does he think you some dewy eyed farm girl looking for love? that you can't have casual sex with someone without eventually wanting for more?

"tha' ain't wha' i said. you'd get hurt, i mean look at ya." what about you? it's not like you'd let any of what happens behind closed doors affect your performance or anything, you and kyle always keep things professional while in the field.

also, is he aware that he doesn't have to have a reason to not want to sleep with you, or anyone else for that matter?

"you're small," he states, as if fact.

small? small where? your irritation dissipates, shoulders bleeding tension as genuine worry begins to set in. his vision might actually be going bad. could it be the black paint he wears under his mask? is it even safe to use on the face let alone near the eyes? did he read the instructions?

but then you realize he's looking at your legs, or specifically, what's between them and things click, and now you're wondering how someone so bloody brilliant could be this fucking stupid.

"while i appreciate your concern, lieutenant," you pointedly snap, "that's not even- i'd be just fine." he's a big guy, for sure. massive, if being honest. his neck alone is easily bigger than both your hands and you've caught him once or twice having to duck his head to enter the debriefing room but him being so endowed that it poses a threat to you is idiotic at best.

he hums, long and low in his throat, as he peers down at you through heavy lidded eyes, and raises his right shoulder in a shrug. "as you like," and that's the one and only warning you got.

simon had given you as much foreplay as needed, had lapped at your pussy until you forgot what day of the week it was, curled and scissored his fingers until his bedsheets were sodden and it still hadn't been enough. he'd only fit about a fourth of it in before he took pity on you and fucked your thighs instead until he got close, pushing his ruddy tip back into your aching cunt because "spillin' outside is a waste," and sent you on your merry way.

you're no quitter though and after some shopping online, your saving grace (dilators) will be here in a week.

(now to find soap and rip the rest of his hair right out his scalp for wagging his tongue.)

[vaguely-concerned]

lucanis is a 'I could sit in our quiet kitchen on a grey tuesday afternoon drinking coffee and talking with you about nothing much in particular forever and be the happiest man who ever lived' romantic, not a 'classic tropes and grand gestures' romantic. this is a distinction and conceptual gap I personally feel is crucial to understanding what's going on with him when romanced. for all his almost painful sincerity and clear depth of feeling he's not a very effusive guy by nature, but in the history of time no one has ever, with their whole soul, chest and being, been so genuinely and openly happy to just do laundry and taxes with you.

[padsmoony04]

This was so funny to me, lol

[yierrem]

dating headcanons - zzzero men edition (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))♡

ft. gn!reader x anton ivanov, ben bigger, lighter, von lycaon, wise ; no applicable warnings! my first request (i tried to finish it before christmas in my timezone, but still, merry christmas to the anon who requested this :DD and to those reading!!) hehehhe i hope its good enough｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

anton ivanov

you cannot look me in the eye and tell me this man isn’t the type to yell “this is for you!” or “if i hit this you give me a kiss” and completely miss whatever target he’s supposed to hit. he hits it. sometimes. he still gets a kiss anyways.

[“dude” “we’re literally dating and you’ve placed your lips on mine do NOT call me dude.” “…babe”]

big on gift giving and words of affirmation in terms of love languages. he makes sure to put a lot of thought into whatever he gives to you to properly convey his appreciation and show just how much you mean to him.

"strong, sincere, and straightforward." he's definitely the type to encourage you to try new things especially when you're the type to get easily nervous. if you're scared of looking stupid, don't worry; he'll do it with you hand-in-hand so you can be stupid together. becomes your no. 1 hype man and would give you his honest opinions whenever you need ‘em.

you see or hear him talking to his jackhammer bro for the most mundane or random things and you've become used to it at this point. its honestly endearing (you're hopeless)

["bro do you think they'd still love me if i was a worm?" "vroom vroom vroom" “you think so?” “vroom” "yeah, you're right."]

ben bigger

scary bear privileges meaning no one wants to mess with you knowing that you're dating someone who cuts such an intimidating presence but you know better than them because ben would much rather use his paws to tap away at a calculator or spreadsheet than willingly get into fights.

on that note, he's most likely to be the best companion for grocery shopping; he'll know how to get all the good discounts and haggle for the best prices for sure.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 1. although he puts his fur care second, it's still soft and fuzzy to the touch and he likes that you appreciate the warmth it provides too.

since he struggles with some of his accounting responsibilities due to the size of his paws, sometimes you help him with sorting some of belobog industries' financial documents and eventually you end up finding the task quite relaxing after a while of doing it.

but, of course, he loves spending time with you outside of work. anything to take his mind off of the horrors of accounting. he'll mentally file away anything he learns about you when you're together for future purposes, may it be gift or date ideas.

he's the bear thiren between both of you, but in private he loves cuddling against you like you're some sort of plush toy. you don't mind. another win-win situation because you get to rest against him like a giant pillow as well.

lighter

he tries to be flirty with you and sometimes it works! but when you match his energy and it backfires on him he turns into a blushing mess who doesn’t know what to do with himself.

also the type to want to show off or act all suave. he has an image to keep as the undefeated champion! the red scarf! (he’s internally giggling and kicking his feet from one [1] cheek kiss you left in passing).

date nights with him sometimes consist of drives on his bike and stargazing at a nice little spot he found in blazewood. then halfway through, he’d get distracted from seeing the stars in your eyes and think that its a hundred times better than the real thing and fall in love all over again.

“gets as many challenges as love letters” but he makes sure that you and anyone who tries to make a move know that he only has eyes for you. could be in the form of having an arm around your waist or his jacket on you when you feel cold.

a physical touch and acts of service guy because. well. he did say he’d like to die for love one day. that’s a very romantic thing to say and do. also his heart still races whenever you hold his hand but he swears he’s getting used to it (he isn’t). probably melts when you gently run your fingers over his face or any of his scars

i honestly feel like he's one of those "me and my bae don't argue they just tell me to shut up and i do" types.

von lycaon

an ideal date for him would be a fancy dinner or picnic somewhere nice and discreet. complete with scented candles, your favorite flowers, and homecooked food (which probably tastes better than anything you've ever eaten at any restaurant). then at some point when both of you have finished eating and you're both in conversation, he brings your hand up to his lips and leaves a kiss on your knuckles.

["darling, your face is...concerningly red. are you feeling alright?" "i'm fine. i think."]

you WILL be receiving that prince/princess treatment (threat). breakfast in bed when he isn’t busy, spontaneous massages offered when you mention ONCE that you feel tired, and all that jazz. you probably will never have to open another door yourself with him around and he ALWAYS offers his arm for you to take when you're walking together.

best cuddle partner to have during colder seasons no. 2. just prepare yourself for horrendous shedding as summer begins… but you don’t mind helping him brush through his fur (*´ω`*) its therapeutic and you’re one of the very few people he trusts with the task so its a win for both of you.

since he's a wolf thiren, he sometimes unwillingly attracts the attention of stray cats and dogs; he usually pays them no mind but it is somewhat of an inconvenience for him. however, the sight of you playing with them while quietly cooing eases some of his discomfort. seems like you aren't the only one suffering from cuteness aggression.

his guilty pleasure is squishing your cheeks in his hands. no i will not elaborate

wise

this is one of the random play managers we’re talking about, so. movie date nights are mandatory. both of you alternate when picking movies but sometimes you bicker over options like an old married couple just for the fun of it.

a lot more chill when it comes to PDA but he can be flirty when he wants to be. if he knows you have a weak spot for it, he uses it to his advantage to get what he wants. scheming little minx. /pos

words of affirmation and quality time guy, i think. since he's always so busy with managing the store and completing commissions alongside belle as proxies, he makes the most out of the time you guys can spend together alone. even if it's just laying in his bed or on the couch doing nothing together sometimes.

everyone and their mothers and grandmothers on sixth street will probably know that you’re dating or figure something out at some point even when both of you don’t really do much together in public/are trying to keep it on the low. never underestimate these aunties man

unfortunately for wise, he will become the target of teasing or nagging from belle when it comes to your relationship. once you get close enough she'll also share embarrassing stories from when they were younger or before you and wise started dating much to her brother’s chagrin.

secretly likes clinging and cuddling up to you like a koala. both of you are in bed? oh okay, don’t mind him, he’ll just scooch a bit and wrap his arms and legs around you, claiming that having you in his bed helps fix his insomnia (it does, to some degree). [“wise i can’t move.” “you don’t need to.”]

on the days you help out with tasks in random play, you could quite literally just be standing while doing something and then you’ll feel a pair of arms sneak around your waist from behind as he leans his head on one of your shoulders with a quiet, satisfied sigh.

[blood-smiles]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 🪽🕯️

I INTRODUCE YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL!!! He is in disguise as a human and apparently is your neighbor!! He forgets to blink so he keeps his eyes closed.. Lucien is serving more waist than a corseted Victorian woman!! Certified hottie and murder— I mean. House wife!!! ＼（＾○＾）人（＾○＾）／

Lucien is around 6’3 for your height difference, when he is in his more.. Realistic form, he can literally hold you in his palm (I’m too lazy to do height or wtv), he can fit you in his mouth NO MORE VORE ALLEGATIONS!!! >:(

[tsuutarr]

You almost scream when something falls into your basket, certain that you'll have to deal with a large bug. 

You soon calm down when you realize that your sudden visitor isn't a bug, but a tired garden fairy. He leans against your basket, looking worn out, causing sympathy to well up inside you. You push some of the berries inside your basket his way, causing his eyes to brighten.

After that, you've had a little fairy stalker following you around everywhere. But you don't mind – he's cute and harmless, after all. He fits into all your dollhouses and gets full eating just a few berries, so there's no way he's anything dangerous. 

In fact, he helps you out a lot! He makes you tea and helps you clean despite being so tiny. And it's really cute when he sits on your shoulder or gives you little cheek kisses or little gifts! You're still wearing that necklace with an adorable acorn charm he made you.

So of course you appreciate his company. Besides, you've been feeling a little lonely as of late, what with so many of your friends getting sick lately. You're not sure how you avoided the weird stomach bug that's been going around, but you don't really question it.

Because really, why would you ever question it? It's not like you're aware that your new little fairy friend enchanted that necklace of yours to make your friends sick whenever they talk to you, nor are you aware that he's been feeding you enchanted tea to make you more fae than human, hoping to whisk you away to the fairy realm.

Because really, why would you ever doubt him?

He's so cute and harmless, after all.

[soapcloth]

Popping by to make you think about soap comparing hand sizes with you. He’s marvelling at the difference in texture too.

[just-nc-tea]

nine and three quarters ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

⭑.ᐟ Roommate to Lovers - Park Sunghoon Somehow, in the middle of your semester break, you ended up with a new roommate. Your landlord rented out the second room in your flat without telling you, and now you’re living with Sunghoon. At first, your paths barely cross – you’re buried in work, and he’s always at the rink. But slowly, he slips into your routine in ways you never expected. Then one night, everything shifts. A blurred memory, a moment of fear—and Sunghoon catching you before you can fall. Suddenly, it’s not awkward anymore. You start looking forward to him coming home. Maybe—just maybe—home isn’t a place. Maybe it’s a person.

ᝰ genre. Figure skater!Sunghoon, college sports, angst, hurt/comfort, really SLOW burn, fluff, suggestive .ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ warnings. Swearing, partying, consumption of alcohol, hospital visits, mentions of rape, mentions of date-rape-drugs, mentions of the police, panic attacks, eating disorder, overworking PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF I FORGOT ANYTHING OR IF YOU FEEL LIKE I MISSREPRESENTED SOMETHING.ᐟ₊ ⊹ ᝰ features. Mark, Johnny, Ten, Kun, Taeyong & Jungwoo from NCT, Woonyoung and Rei from IVE ᝰ word count. 31.6k .ᐟ₊ ⊹ --⟢ PART 2 --⟢ PART 3

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Hallucinating. You had to be hallucinating.  Maybe Sunoo was right. Maybe the sleep loss was catching up with you. You were starting to hallucinate. There was a hot guy flipping through the first pages of one of your fashion magazines. In your living room. Surrounded by moving boxes. 

You cleared your throat. “Hi?” He looked up from the magazine he was looking at and smiled at you. Oh god. “Hi I’m Sunghoon.”, he set the magazine down on your sofa table. “I’m your new roommate. I don’t know if Mr. Kang told you I am moving in today instead of the first. I had a more or less spontaneous change of plans.” He chuckled.  No. No Mr. Kang did not. He did in fact not tell you at all that you would be getting a roommate. You tried to smile at Sunghoon but it felt more like a grimace. “Hi. I am Y/N. Are you sure you are in the right apartment? I mean considering you probably got the keys from Mr. Kang, yes, but he didn’t tell me anything about a roommate? I know in Apartment 4B is a free room?” Sunghoon scrunched his eyebrows. “This is Apartment 4D, right? I definitely signed a contract for the smaller room in Apartment 4D.” “Oh.”, you just said and blinked at him. The smaller room in your apartment has technically been rented out for the last two years you have been living in this apartment but the girl that supposedly rented the room never came. When you asked Mr. Kang about it he said that as long as the rent was being paid he didn’t care if the other girl came or not and you were free to use the room until she did indeed show up. 

So that is what you did.  You transformed the small room into your studio. You pushed the bed to the side and used that, as well as the closet in the room, for all of your utensils. And you knew for a fact, that the desk and the floor were a cluttered mess at the moment. You handed in your last assignment just a few days ago after your professor thankfully extended your deadline by three weeks into the semester break after he made you start from scratch again.  “I–uhm–I didn't know you were moving in at all. I’ve been using the room as my studio. Just give me like an hour and I’ll move all of my stuff into my room.”, you said, already feeling a headache coming. You just wanted to peel your uniform off, eat something and sleep. And not deal with Mr. Kang not telling you Adonis 2.0 would be moving in today, or well, at all.  Sunghoon raised an eyebrow at your words, then glanced toward the hallway leading to his supposed new room. "You’ve been using it as a studio?" You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "Yeah. I mean, it’s been empty since I moved in. Not technically empty? Someone rented it out but she never came and Mr. Kang said I could use the room if my supposed roommate wouldn’t want it? So I just… took over? I’ll be really fast so you can start putting all your stuff in there." Sunghoon’s lips quirked up in amusement, arms crossing over his broad chest. "So, I’m kicking you out of your studio?" You groaned internally. Yeah, yeah he was. "Technically, yes. But it’s not your fault. Mr Kang just – kind of forgot to tell me you were coming? At all? So I didn’t know I had to clean it out." 

He nodded, glancing back toward the hallway before looking at you again. "Well, if you need help moving your stuff, I don’t mind." You blinked. That was… unexpectedly nice. And also the absolute last thing you wanted. Some of your sketches and drawings were way too personal for him to even get a glimpse at them. "No, it’s fine. It’s mostly styrofoam, pens and sketches. It's fine." Sunghoon shrugged. "Alright. Just let me know if you change your mind." He moved toward the sofa, lifting a box and putting it onto the floor to flop down on the green fabric. He reached for the magazine again. “Are you a fashion student?” “Oh. No. I study architecture.”, you shook your head and made your way through the maze of boxes and furniture in your living room towards the hallway that separated your and now apparently Sunghoons room.  “Oh, that's cool. I am in PE.”, he grinned at you. You exhaled sharply, pressing your fingers against your temples. "Ah. That's nice. Just… make yourself at home while I clean I guess?." Sunghoon grinned. "Will do, roommate." The word made you wince. ──────────────────────── You stood in the doorway of your studio, well technically Sunghoon’s room, mentally preparing yourself for the hours of cleaning ahead. The small space was overflowing with architectural sketches, blueprint rolls, rulers, model pieces, and textbooks.

This was… embarrassing. You usually were a really organized person but with work and your deadline coming up, you just didn’t have the time and energy to clean behind you. You were pushing that to the next weekend after you got at least 10 hours of sleep instead of the five you got the last few days. You groaned quietly when you realized that those five hours might be even less during the next semester when you had to work in  the university instead of your flat since you had to give up your working space at home. Great. Just great.  You started cleaning, piling all of the cut-up styrofoam and paper into a trash bin, carrying your unused styrofoam into your room and getting a broom from the kitchen.  After around half an hour Sunghoon slightly knocked on the doorframe to his room, startling you from where you were sorting through your sketches and designs.  “Are you sure you don’t want any help?”, he asked, while he stepped into the room, doing his best to not step on anything.  You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling self-conscious with Sunghoon standing there, observing the chaos with a curious look. “No, it's fine…It’s not usually this bad,” you mumbled, tiredly smiling at him. Your head was aching a bit and you were hungry but you didn’t want to inconvenience him by making him wait until you ate something and napped. And you wanted to inconvenience him even less by making him help you clean a space that should have been clean. Sunghoon let out a soft chuckle. “Mhm. No worries. If it’s just your space that you use for a creative chaos I don’t have any problem with that.” You pressed your lips onto each other and tried to ignore the heat that was crawling up your neck. 

He hummed, stepping further into the room. "What's this?” He gestured to a half-finished architectural model on your desk, a sleek modernist building carefully cut out of foam board and assembled with tiny, precise details. You spend countless hours on it, just for your professor to ask if you could start over since he didn’t think it was the best you could do. You hesitated before replying. “It was supposed to be my final project. For my design class.” Sunghoon bent down slightly, inspecting it. “This is insane,” he murmured, his fingers hovering near the structure but not touching it. “It looks like something you’d see in an actual firm.” You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so you just gave a small nod, focusing on rolling up your blueprints instead. Compliments always made you feel a little awkward. Then, unexpectedly, Sunghoon grabbed a stack of sketches and rulers and started organizing them neatly. Your head snapped up. “W-What are you doing?" “Helping,” he said simply, not looking up. “You’re going to take forever if you do this alone.”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around a miniature model piece. Letting other people touch your things, especially your carefully crafted work, wasn’t something you were a hundred percent comfortable with.  But he was doing it carefully and slowly, making sure to not fold or bend anything. “…Okay,” you mumbled, focusing back on your sketches. Sunghoon smirked. “That sounded painful for you to say.” You refused to look at him as you continued sorting.

An hour and a half later, the room was clear. Well, mostly clear. Your things were now safely in your room, and Sunghoon’s moving boxes were neatly stacked in the corner, ready to be unpacked. You gave Sunghoon a kitchen tour and went over the house rules and you found yourself standing awkwardly in the living room when you were done. Sunghoon had started unpacking his boxes, while you weren’t entirely sure what to do with yourself.  You have been living alone for the past two years, and now suddenly, there was another person here. Another person who would sleep in the room next to yours, walk around the apartment, use the kitchen, and exist in your space. It wasn’t like you didn’t know this would happen eventually. Your scholarship technically covered a dorm with a roommate, but since no one had ever moved in, you’d gotten used to having the space to yourself. You cleared your throat, shifting on your feet. "Uhm… do you, uh, need anything else?" Sunghoon looked up from where he was stacking his books on the shelf. "Nope. I think I got it." "Okay, um good. Well, uhm, goodnight then." His lips curled slightly, amused at your awkwardness. "Goodnight, Y/N." ─────────────────────── When you woke up and made your way to the kitchen at 6:30 am the next day, feeling and probably also looking like you had just risen from the dead. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were half-closed, and your body was running purely on muscle memory as you reached for the door handle of the kitchen door. You took a deep breath. The smell of freshly brewed coffee lingered in the air. For a second, you thought you were hallucinating again or maybe still asleep. But when you rubbed your eyes and looked up, you realized something far worse than hallucination was happening. There was a half-naked man in your kitchen. Sunghoon stood by the counter, one hand resting on the coffee machine, the other rubbing the back of his neck as he yawned. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, and his bare upper body was exposed to the warm air in the kitchen. Seoul was way too humid and warm even in the morning during the summer months. He turned, eyes still heavy with sleep, and blinked at you still standing in the doorway. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, he yawned again. "Morning." "Uh—" you cleared your throat, snapping your gaze away from his body. Ogling at your admittedly stupidly attractive new roommate was very inappropriate. "Morning." Your voice sounded way too high-pitched. Sunghoon didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t comment on it. Instead, he just poured himself a cup of coffee, completely unbothered. You walked to the fridge, pretending to not care that he was standing next to it and grabbed one of your containers with porridge inside.  By the time you turned back around, Sunghoon had disappeared into the hallway. A few seconds later, he re-emerged, now wearing a T-shirt. "Do you have any plans today?" he asked, casually leaning against the counter as he took a sip of his coffee. You glanced at him, still feeling a bit weird to have seen him half naked after knowing him for not even 24 hours. "Uh… yeah. I have work today." Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. "You work?" "Yes?" You frowned. "I mean, my scholarship covers a lot, but I still have to pay for food, transportation, materials, and the rent. It adds up." "Hm," Sunghoon hummed, nodding. "What do you do?" "I work as an intern at an architecture studio." You grabbed a spoon and honey, setting it on the counter. "I mostly organize files, scan documents, and do small tasks for the senior architects. I also make coffee and refill the printer paper, which is apparently the most important job in the entire office." Sunghoon let out a small chuckle at that. "Sounds fun." You gave him a dry look. "It pays." Sunghoon leaned back slightly, his gaze flicking toward your food as you peeled off the lid of your porridge and took a small spoonful. He glanced back up. "I have training later." You blinked at him. "Training?" "Yeah." He took another sip of coffee. "The season ended, but I’m still training. I’m working to qualify for the Olympics."

You froze mid-bite. "The… Olympics?" "Yeah." Your spoon slowly lowered. "You’re an athlete?" Sunghoon gave you a confused look. "Did you not know that?" "No?" He tilted his head slightly. "You didn’t google me?" You stared at him. "Was I supposed to?"

Sunghoon let out a small breath of amusement, shaking his head. "I thought you might, considering how organized you are. I did google you. Y/N Y/L/N, architecture student at DA, graduated from Tongyeong High School with honors. Your parents have a restaurant." You stared at Sunghoon, your spoon hovering slightly above your container of porridge. “You…you found out quite a lot. Did that all come up when you just put in my name?” “Yeah.”, he nodded, taking another sip of his coffee, “Well the first thing I found was an article about you graduating as the only one with honours that year, and then it mentioned that your parents have a restaurant, so I just looked it up on Naver. Your parents got featured on KBS once!” “Oh.” You felt your entire body heat up. You knew the article he was talking about and the picture in said article. You saw your stiff smile, the way-too-tight graduation gown, the way your parents insisted on standing beside you, both of them beaming proudly, even though they weren’t supposed to be in the picture in your mind. A wave of secondhand embarrassment crashed over you. You swallowed hard. "You–You saw my high school graduation picture?"

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, setting his coffee cup down. "Yeah. You looked cute." Cute. "Oh my god," you muttered, pressing your cold spoon against your cheek, hoping it would somehow cool down the sudden heat spreading over your face. Sunghoon chuckled, clearly amused by your reaction. You cleared your throat and tried to change the topic.  "What do you do? What sport?" "Ice skating," he answered simply. "You’re a figure skater?" Sunghoon raised an eyebrow. "What else would I be?" "I don’t know–basketball?"

Your brothers loved basketball. After school, you ended up playing with them more days than not, mainly because your parents wanted you to get some fresh air and not only study in the living room of the small apartment the six of you shared above your parent’s restaurant. They couldn’t really give you the opportunity to be in a sports club, since the subscriptions would be quite expensive so throwing around Taeyongs worn and weathered baseball together with Mark and Jungwoo was the thing to do. Oftentimes other kids that were living in Tongyeong or some of the tourists would play with you.  Sunghoon gave you a deadpan look. "Do I look like a basketballer?" You ignored that. "You’re an Olympic-level skater?" "Hopefully," he said. "If I qualify." For a moment, you just stared at him. Then, you shook your head. "That’s really impressive." Sunghoon just shrugged, like it was no big deal. You took another bite of your porridge, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. You never did anything that made you special. Or something impressive. 

Sunghoon took another sip of his coffee, watching you. "You always eat that little?" You swallowed, a bit caught off guard. "I meal-prep my portions." He hummed, tilting his head slightly. "You sure that’s enough? This looks like it could keep me afloat for like an hour." You hesitated and just gave a tight smile. "I manage." Sunghoon just nodded slowly and stood up, putting his cup into the dishwasher. "Alright," he said, heading toward his room. "See you later." You watched him go. ──────────────────────── A few days later Sunghoon got back to the apartment pretty late. 

His body ached from hours of training. After practice, he had gone out for food with Jay and a couple of the other guys, something that had become routine over the years. Ice hockey players ate like they were fueling a small army, and even though Sunghoon wasn’t quite on their level, he had no problem keeping up, so he at least didn’t have to think about dinner today. He didn’t have the time to buy groceries and would have not wanted to eat a chicken breast today again and he would not touch your carefully labelled and stored food.  Kicking off his shoes, he stretched his arms over his head, sighing as he made his way into the living room. The apartment was quiet, and he couldn’t see light coming out from under your door. So he just assumed you weren’t home. Not that he really cared.

It was none of his business where you were. But he did notice that you did come home pretty late often. He barely saw you, even though the two of you live together. You were going into the bathroom while he was in the kitchen and vice versa in the morning. Aside from a few short greetings in the kitchen, you barely talked. He figured you were just shy or maybe just didn’t like talking to people in general. Not that he had a problem with that. He poured himself a glass of water, leaning against the counter as he looked at the pictures and postcards you had on the fridge. He took a step forward and carefully took a postcard showing the sea into his hands. He knew he probably shouldn't be doing that but he was curious. 

Hi Bug! Busan is as beautiful as ever. I wish you were here. I hope you're doing well in Seoul. Don't overwork yourself too much, okay? See you soon.- Love and miss you, Mark :) 

He didn’t know much about your personal life. Actually, scratch that. He didn’t know anything about your personal life. He had no idea what you did in your free time. Maybe you really did have a boyfriend. Mark definitely sounded like a boyfriend name? Your hometown was close to Busan after all. Maybe he went to Busan to study and you went to Seoul. But that wouldn’t explain where you were now, if Mark was in Busan.  He shook his head and took another sip of water. It was not his business to wonder where you were. You weren’t friends or anything, just two strangers sharing an apartment.  He exhaled. He should really get to know you a bit, or else this semester was going to get quite awkward.  When he was just about to go to the bathroom to get ready for bed the front door opened. Sunghoon’s fight or flight response immediately set in but when he saw your figure walking into the hallway he relaxed again.

His brows furrowed as he glanced at the time on his phone. 1:30 AM. You seemed exhausted and you were… wearing a uniform? A white dress shirt with your name stitched into it and black pants.  Sunghoon starred as you locked the door behind you, dropping your bag onto the floor before kicking off your shoes. You rubbed at your temple, eyes half-lidded from sheer exhaustion. The dim kitchen light cast soft shadows over your face, emphasizing the dark circles beneath your eyes. “Where were you?” The question slipped out before he could stop it. You flinched slightly like you hadn’t noticed him standing there. Your tired eyes flickered to his.

“I was at work,” you mumbled, walking past him to grab a glass from the cabinet. “Work?” Sunghoon repeated. “I thought you worked at the architecture studio?” "I do," you sighed, filling your glass with water. "This is my second job." His eyebrows rose. "You have two jobs?" You let out a small huff of laughter, but it was completely devoid of amusement. "Three, if you count my scholarship." Sunghoon blinked. Oh. He thought about that for a second. You had the same scholarship he had, didn’t you? Did you really need to work another job? He was aware that your parents probably couldn't stem you going to university. The pictures he saw of your parent’s restaurant weren’t horrible. The opposite actually. It had good reviews but still, it didn’t look like something that made much money compared to other jobs. He watched as you took slow sips of water. “That sounds like a lot.” You just nodded and repeated your answer from this morning. “I manage.” ──────────────────────── The next time you saw Sunghoon was a day later when he shuffled into the living room, still half asleep. You were sitting on the sofa reading a book from your big to-be-read pile that accumulated during the semester. His hair was standing up in every direction. He had red streaks on his face that came from sleeping on a wrinkly fabric. He let himself fall next to you on the sofa, lleaned back and closed his eyes again, grumbling a sleepy. “Good morning Y/N.”

"Good morning, Sunghoon," you said softly, turning your attention back to your book. He hummed in acknowledgement, still not opening his eyes. "Got any plans today?" "Not really," you murmured, tucking your feet under yourself. He opened one eye. “You don’t have work today?” "I have the morning shift in the cinema tomorrow, but that doesn’t start until ten, so technically, I could sleep in. The studio is closed on weekends." "Mm," he grunted. "At least two days of the week you don’t have to run out the door at seven.” You let out a small chuckle. "Yeah. It’s nice to sleep in." The conversation faded into silence. The living room was warm, the kind of thick, humid heat that made everything feel slower in the middle of summer. But with all the windows open, a soft breeze drifted through the apartment, making the living room curtains sway gently.

You shifted your focus back onto your book. The slow and soft breathing that came from Sunghoon made you think he fell asleep again. You had noticed over the course of the last week that Sunghoon wasn���t a morning person. He was always grumpy in the morning, but still polite and nice to you.  Just as you were finishing your chapter his voice suddenly broke the silence in the living room. "What are you reading?" You blinked, lowering the book slightly. He was still sprawled out on the couch, but his eyes were open now, watching you. "Uh," you turned the book over, showing him the cover. "It’s a novel I’ve been meaning to read for a while. Haven’t had time during the semester."

He nodded slowly. "You like reading?"

"I do." “My friend Jay’s girlfriend also really loves reading. She is super crazy. She reads like a book or two a week.”, he tilted his head slightly. „What is this one about?“

“Teenage summer love? Something along those lines. I am not that far in yet so I can’t really tell you more to be honest.“, you turned the book around in your hands and looked at the cover. „Teens? Aren’t you too old for that?“, Sunghoon hummed, shifting slightly so he was lying on his side, head propped up on one arm. “You are never too old or too young for love, Sunghoon.”, you answered, opening your book again. It was ironic. Really. You only knew love from books and TV shows. Those overly dramatic or romantic relationships between two overly attractive persons are written to always have a happy ending. In reality, love doesn’t end in happy ends. Or most of the time it didn’t, so you didn’t even want to try it out. Better not get to know something you could lose forever, right? The thought made you sign quietly. Sunghoon was quiet for a moment. "You open all the windows every morning." You looked up and blinked at him. "Yeah. The air feels stuffy otherwise." Sunghoon nodded. "You don’t open mine."

You hesitated. On the first day, you almost did. You almost opened the door opposite to yours in the hallway when you just woke up.  You liked to open the windows in the morning. When the air was still fresh and not too warm. "I don’t want to overstep." He exhaled a soft laugh. "Don’t worry. I‘ll just open it myself now. Then you can’t overstep anything." You smiled faintly. "Thank you." For a while, there was nothing but the occasional rustling of your pages and the sound of cars in the distance. Then Sunghoon spoke again. He didn’t seem like a person that talked a lot. But apparently, he had the desire to talk to you sometimes. He would come to your room or the kitchen when you were there and strike up conversations. It was nice. Sunghoon was nice. 

You did google him and asked Sunoo about Sunghoon when you were working the Wednesday shift in the cinema together. Wednesday was always slow. Not that you minded. That gave you plenty of time to talk to Sunoo or Jungwoon. Sunoo was surprised when you told him who just moved in. Apparently, Sunghoon was known across the sports and business faculties. He attended their parties together with his friends a lot. According to Sunoo, Sunghoon is really nice.  "Do you miss home?" The question caught you off guard. You looked at him again, only to find that he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling. You hesitated before answering. "Sometimes." Sunghoon nodded slowly. „It must be weird to move from such a small town to Seoul. I grew up in Suwon but I think I spend more time in Seoul than anywhere else. My childhood and teenage years took place in ice rinks in Seoul.“

You thought for a second. It was weird. The house you grew up in was always loud. Either your brothers or the guests downstairs in the restaurant were constantly talking or making noises and suddenly you were in this apartment, all alone and it was silent. You really disliked it. You spend quite a lot of time calling your friends or family members in the beginning until you adjust to the silence.  After you finished your first year Mark finished his mandatory military service and resumed studying and working in Seoul as well. It was still almost an hour-long bus ride to go to his dorm but it was better than 5 hours to Busan.  Taeyong went back to Tongyeong to help your parents. He loved the little restaurant and most importantly he loved the new doctor in Tongyeong. He and Johnny got together back in high school and have been together ever since. Johnny came back to your hometown to take over his father's doctor's office. You loved Johnny. He was fun. When you were younger he always brought you expensive presents and never said no if you asked for ice cream when you were out with him and Taeyong. Taeyong and Johnny were almost 7 years older than you so they were tasked with babysitting you when your parents needed someone to do so quite often. You missed all of them a lot. 

„Yeah. It’s weird. It’s so quiet and loud here at the same time. At home you rarely hear this many cars passing by but my family is quite loud so living alone is very quiet?“, you put in a bookmark to not lose your page. You assumed Sunghoon was in the mood to talk right now. „Really? Do you have siblings?“, he tilted his head slightly. His hair flopped down. You hummed and nodded. „3 brothers. All older.  7 years, 4 years and 3 years. What about you?“ „I have one sister. 5 years younger than me. And a dog. “, he chuckled. „Oh, that’s nice. I always wanted a pet. But my parents wouldn’t allow it. They were busy enough with 4 kids and a restaurant.“ "Your parents still run it?" Sunghoon asked. "Yeah," you answered quietly. He nodded. "Do you help out?" "Not really," you admitted. "My parents always told me to focus on my studies and made my brothers help them. I did help if they let me. I usually cleaned out flat though. I like the area I live in to be really clean and growing up my brothers weren’t the cleanest.“ Sunghoon hummed. „Yeah, I’ve noticed. I think that’s pretty nice. That you are such a clean person I mean. I love my old roommate but he left his shit everywhere and should be sued for noise complaints 24/7. That guy never shuts up.“ „Oh that sounds annoying.“, you kept your voice soft.  “It’s all right. Now I don't have to tell him to wash the dishes or to not scream at his internet friends in the middle of the night.”, he hummed and lifted himself from the sofa, “Do you want some breakfast? I was thinking about going for a run and getting something from the Creek. My friend’s girlfriend works there and I can get us free stuff?” “I uhm. I already ate. But thank you so much for offering.”, you smiled at him. “Sure, always.”, Sunghoon smiled at you.  ──────────────────────── Sunghoon wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand as he stepped back into the apartment. It was still cold in the apartment. You must have closed the windows after he left. You never really used the AC in the mornings. You let the early morning breeze cool the place down and waited until it got too warm, until you couldn’t stand it anymore. He didn’t really get why, but he wasn’t home much in the afternoons, so it didn’t matter. He was actually quite glad about the warmth after he spent all day in the rink. It felt kind of nice.

His run had been good. He liked going on runs. It felt refreshing. It took his mind off of things for a while. But by the time he finished his run and he stepped into the Creek the sun had started blazing. After he spent way too much time talking to Jay, who was doing god what in the small campus cafe while his girlfriend was on shift, he stepped out and was hit by a wall of heat. The cool air in the apartment made him feel a bit less sticky.  He dropped the bag of food onto the kitchen counter, his eyes scanning the room. It was still quiet. His gaze flickered toward the living room. You were still lying on the sofa. Your legs were slightly bent and your arms were in awkward positions. One was sprawled across your face, blocking your face from the light coming in through the living room windows. The other one was resting loosely over your stomach. The book you had been reading was lying on the floor next to you, seemingly having slipped from your hand when you fell asleep. 

He quietly walked towards the sofa and reached down to pick the book up. Sunghoon slipped the bookmark that was still resting on the sofa table in between the pages and his fingers brushed over the creased cover before setting it on the table.  He knew the book. His sister read it last year and wouldn’t shut up about it. You must have enjoyed the book. You’ve read a big chunk of it already.  Sunghoon made his way back to the kitchen and cursed whatever architect designed your flat for deciding on building an open-style kitchen. The open-style kitchen was what sold him on the place, but now, with only a kitchen pass-through separating the two spaces, it also meant that if he used the coffee machine, it would definitely wake you up. He signed and grabbed the orange juice jug in the fridge instead. That was healthier anyway.  As he poured himself a glass, his eyes landed on the vase near the window.  The tulips inside were starting to wilt, slowly letting their heads hang down and a few white petals were laying on the window sill. Without thinking he got up, grabbed the vase and changed the water. Maybe that would keep them alive for a bit longer. 

Sunghoon set the vase back down, watching another petal slowly making its way down towards the window still. He would drop a few coins in the vase later. Wasn’t that supposed to help keep flowers fresh longer? Having fresh flowers around made the kitchen look more alive. The whole apartment actually. It was clean, something he appreciated, but it still felt lived-in. Your personal style was different from his. The walls were painted in a pale green and you hung pictures and paintings along the walls, antique-looking candle holders and books were lined on the white shelves. It reminded him of older European-style houses, those that he had only seen in movies or pictures. When he helped you clean his room last week, he tried not to look too closely at the sketches you were carrying. But the ones he did catch a glimpse of? Almost all of them were of European-style houses. Tall, elegant, full of intricate details. You must really like that style. Sunghoon chewed slowly and glanced at you again. In the seven days that he has been living here he hasn’t seen you this still? Usually, you were always moving, rushing almost. Even in the evening, when you shuffled into the kitchen before heading to bed, there was a quiet urgency to your movements. Like you were always on the clock. He knew he was privileged. He knew that his parents were making enough money for him not to worry, especially not when he and his sister both got scholarships. His sister still had two years of High School to go, but had been offered the scholarship already, just like he had been. But you did have a scholarship as well. And the rent wasn’t too high. So why were you working so much? It wasn’t his place to ask. But he was curious. After all, he hoped to befriend you at least a bit.

Just as he was finishing off the last of his food, he heard you stir. At first, it was just a sleepy shift, a small stretch of your legs. But then, your eyelids fluttered, and with a deep breath, you slowly pushed yourself up, blinking blearily at the room. “Morning.” Your gaze flickered to him, still half-asleep. “Morning,” you murmured back, your voice soft. He hesitated for a second before nodding toward the counter. “I got you something.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, then followed his gaze to the extra plate. You stared at it for a moment before looking back at him. “You didn’t have to.” “I know,” he said simply. “I got them for free so I thought I’d just bring you one.” You hummed again before flopping back onto the sofa, singing softly and stretching again. He watched you push yourself up from the couch and paddle over to the kitchen, yawning softly. You sank onto the stool across from him, glancing down at the pastry before picking it up. “Thanks, Sunghoon,” you said, your voice still quiet. He only shrugged, watching as you took a small bite.

The apartment was quiet for a moment, the sound of birds outside filtering in through the open windows. The heat of summer was already creeping in, but the slight morning breeze kept it bearable. Then, before he could stop himself, he spoke. “Would you mind it if I put on some music? I have a really nice summer morning playlist.” You shook your head. “No, go ahead.” Sunghoon hummed and searched for his morning R’n’B playlist. “So what do you do on your day off?” You shrugged. “Laundry. Grocery shopping. Sometimes I sleep in.” He raised an eyebrow. “You’re really making the most of your free time.” You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t have much free time, so I have to use it well.” Sunghoon thought about that for a second. It made sense. He understood what it was like to have every second of your day planned out, to always have something you were supposed to be doing.

“How was your week?” he asked, surprising even himself. You swallowed the bite you just took and for a second the only noise in the kitchen was the soft music coming from the speaker on top of the fridge. “Busy. The office was hectic, and I had a lot of late shifts at the cinema. I didn’t really have much time for myself.”, you answered. He nodded. “Mine was busy too. Training’s been rough.” You tilted your head slightly. “Do you train every day?" “Yeah. Well, almost. I get a rest day here and there.” He stretched slightly. “But even on those, I still have to stay active.” You hummed, considering that. “Sounds exhausting.”

“It is,” he admitted. “But I’ve been doing it for so long, it’s just… normal now.” You took another bite of your pastry, glancing at him. “You must really love it, then.” Sunghoon was quiet for a second. He did love it. Skating had been his entire life for as long as he could remember. It was just strange hearing someone say it like that. Then, he nodded. “Yeah. I do.” You smiled slightly, resting your chin on your hand. “That’s nice. I like to paint. On my days off I mean. I have to be creative for uni so much. But I love painting other stuff aside from houses as well.”

Sunghoons eyes immediately wandered towards the painting that hung in the kitchen. It was two pieces of kimchi, the cabbage split in half, sitting neatly on a plate on a striped fabric with some typography at the bottom of it.  He was never good at English and the letters were cursive and ornate so he had a hard time figuring out what it said. “Did you paint that one?”, he asked.  You were in the middle of drinking water, and for a second, he thought you might choke. But you quickly swallowed and cleared your throat. “Oh, uh, yeah,” you said, setting your glass down. “Last summer break. It’s oil, so it took an eternity to dry. But, uh, the sun helped." He tilted his head back toward the painting. “Oh wow,” he said, genuinely impressed. “That’s so cool. Are the other ones yours too?” “Uh. Yeah.” You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear and suddenly looked very interested in your glass of water. “I was feeling, um, really inspired last year. And my brother got me oil paints for my birthday.”

Sunghoon watched as you let out a small, breathy laugh, your fingers gripping the glass a little too tight.  “I’d never really had the chance to paint with oils before,” you continued, words coming out a little too fast, “since they’re super expensive. But, uh, money well spent, I guess?” He looked back at the paintings again, his gaze lingering for a moment. It was really well done. “You know,” he added, voice dropping a little in awe, “I don’t think I’d be able to do that. Like, paint something like this. It’s pretty... impressive.” You quickly looked away, like you didn’t know what to do with the compliment. And then, you laughed. A weird, nervous little laugh, as if he’d just told a joke instead of genuinely complimenting you.

“Oh, no, I mean–it’s just practice, really,” you blurted out, waving a hand in the air. “It’s not like–it’s not, like, some crazy talent or anything, it’s just… you do it enough, and it sort of, um, happens?” ​​Sunghoon blinked at you. He wasn’t sure why, but it was kind of funny watching you trip over your words like that. You looked like you wanted to disappear. “Still,” he said, amused now, “it’s really cool.” You made a weird, stiff nod, then immediately picked up your water again and took the smallest possible sip. Sunghoon bit back a smile. He wasn’t sure why you were acting so flustered, but it was… kind of entertaining.  ──────────────────────── You stepped into your apartment, shivering slightly at the cool air pressing against your skin. 

Sunghoon must have turned on the AC again. It was nearly 35 degrees outside, but inside, it was much colder. You never really liked using the AC too much. It used a lot of electricity and the temperature drop always left you uncomfortable. You shouldn’t have to wear long sleeves in summer. But Sunghoon didn’t seem to mind the cold. Given how much time he spent at the ice rink, you supposed he was used to it. His skin was pale compared to yours. As a child, you have always been a bit self-conscious about how dark your skin was compared to the ones of the actors or celebrities you saw on TV.  But most of the people around you had tan skin.  Living in the South meant you spent a lot of time in the sun after school or when playing with friends. You enjoyed being outside in the sun, letting the warm ray of sunshine hit your skin, having to eat ice cream quickly before it melted in your hands. What you really disliked was the constant smell of fish everywhere, but that was a given thing, considering one of the dishes Tongyeong is famous for is Chungmu gimbab. It is usually served with a baby octopus with spicy sauce (kolddugi muchim) and radish kimchi. Your mother made really yummy kolddugi muchim. Maybe you still had some in your freezer.

You placed your shoes neatly next to Sunghoons by the door and stepped further into the cool apartment. The sound of the television playing in the background hummed through the air. When you looked over, you saw Sunghoon sprawled out on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, eyes focused on the screen. You hesitated for a second, not really sure what to say if you should say anything at all. You didn’t want to disturb Sunghoon and make him miss something in his show. But before you could decide, Sunghoon reached for the remote and lowered the volume. His head turned toward you. “Hey.” You blinked, a little caught off guard. “Hi.” He sat up slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest. “How was work?” You paused by the fridge, fingers hovering over the handle. He asked the same thing yesterday, and the day before. You weren’t sure if he asked just to be polite or if he actually wanted to know. Either way, it was nice.

So, after a beat, you pulled the freezer open and started shuffling through the bags of frozen fruits or vegetables. “It was fine. Busier than usual.” Sunghoon tilted his head. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” you said, smiling when you found the container with kolddugi muchim that was at the bottom of the freezer. “It’s usually not that packed during summer shifts, but today was weirdly busy.” You took a sip before adding, “At least Sunoo was there. It was fun with him." Sunghoon hummed in acknowledgement, his gaze flicking back to the screen for a moment. “Who’s Sunoo?” You hesitated slightly before standing up from the crouching position you were in. “My friend and coworker, I guess. He works the counter with me.” Sunghoon nodded slowly. “You work with him a lot?” You frowned slightly at the question. “Yeah. Why?”

“No reason,” he said, shrugging. “Just wondering.” You didn’t know what to make of that, so you let it go, turning back to the counter to start defrosting your food. Your favourite pot was still in the dishwasher, it hadn’t been run today. There weren’t any new dishes in the sink either. You hesitated for a second. “Have you eaten lunch today?”, you asked, glancing over your shoulder. Sunghoon looked at you, almost like he was caught off guard by the question. “Uh… no. I was too lazy to cook, so I just had a protein shake.” You frowned slightly. A protein shake was not a meal. You shifted your weight, debating for a second before clearing your throat. “Do you… want some? I’m making kolddugi muchim and rice. It’s too much for just me anyway.” His eyes lit up a little, his usual neutral expression shifting. “Oh, for sure. That sounds way better than another shake.” You nodded, a little awkward as you turned back to the counter. 

Sunghoon stood up, stretching slightly. “Need help with anything?” You’ve gotten used to him wearing joggers and tank tops over the last week. That didn’t mean that seeing him in those didn’t make you feel like you’ve seen something you shouldn’t have seen.  “Um.” You thought for a second. “Could you go to the GS25 down the street and get some mu kimchi? Only if it’s no trouble. I can go too.” He waved you off, already grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. “Nah, I got it. I’ll be back in a sec.” The apartment fell silent again as the door shut behind Sunghoon. You stood still for a moment, listening to the distant hum of the refrigerator and the faint dialogue from the drama still playing on TV. Then, shaking off the quiet, you turned back to the stove. The scent of simmering garlic and gochugaru filled the air, thick and warm. It clung to the fabric of your clothes and seeped into the walls of the small kitchen. 

You closed your eyes for a second. It smelled like home. Like summer afternoons in the restaurant, your mother’s voice drifting in from the kitchen. The ajummas asking you and Mark how your day was, praising you for being so well behaved. The sharp tang of kimchi mingling with the sweetness of caramelized fish sauce. The distant sound of seagulls outside, the heavy heat of the South pressing against the window screens. You exhaled, opening your eyes again. Swallowing the sudden ache, you focused on stirring the sauce for the kolddugi muchim, watching the deep red paste thicken over the heat. Cooking had always been something comforting, something familiar. You never saw yourself working in the restaurant after you finished high school but you missed living by the sea, close to your family. You were so happy when Mark moved to Seoul. Was it weird that you asked Sunghoon if he wanted food? Usually, if Mark was over for a weekend or just after he finished uni and work for the day it was a given that you cooked for him as well. Eating is supposed to be an activity to do with loved ones after all.  Before you could dwell on it too much, the door clicked open again.

Sunghoon stepped back inside, a small plastic bag in his hand. “Got it.” You turned, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel. “That was fast.” He shrugged, placing the bag on the counter. “I have long legs.” You glanced inside, pulling out the package of mu kimchi. “Thanks.” “No problem,” he said, leaning against the counter. His eyes flicked to the stove. “It smells really good.” You didn’t know if he meant it or was just making conversation, but either way, you liked hearing that. “It’s my mom’s. She gives me containers of this stuff every time I visit home. Sometimes I have to eat kolddugi muchim for days after I’ve been home because it wouldn’t fit into the freezer.”, you chuckled thinking about it.  “Oh, I wouldn’t complain about eating kolddugi muchim for days. If it tastes as well as it smells I’ll gladly help you eat some of the kolddugi muchim you can’t fit into the freezer.”, Sunghoon grinned and reached up to grab two sets of plates and bowls from the cabinet. 

You just nodded and smiled at him while dropping the still slightly frozen baby octopus into your mom’s premade sauce. The sizzling of the pan was the only sound for a few moments.  “I’ll go and turn off the TV. I’ll be right back.”, Sunghoon said and disappeared into the living room. A few seconds later the music box he placed in the kitchen made a sound and Sunghoon’s playlist hummed through the speakers. You weren’t sure if he turned it on just to fill the silence or if he actually wanted to listen to music, but either way, you didn’t mind. By the time he returned from turning off the TV, you were both ready to eat. Sunghoon sat across from you, piling some of the baby octopus onto his plate. “So, are you allowed to sneak me free popcorn at the theatre?” You blinked at him, caught off guard, before letting out a small laugh. “No.”

“Not even a little?” he pressed, raising an eyebrow. “Nope.” You shook your head, scooping some rice onto your spoon. “If I got caught, I’d probably get scolded. We’re supposed to charge for everything.” Sunghoon sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair. “Man, I thought I could use you for a continuous flow of premium popcorn.” “Yeah. Sadly that’s not possible.”, you smiled and scrunched your nose a bit. Sunghoon picked up his chopsticks and took a bite of the kolddugi muchim. You watched, suddenly unsure if you maybe had made a mistake with the sauce, or overcooked the octopus. But then, his brows lifted slightly, and he gave a small nod. “This is good.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Really?”

He hummed. “Yeah. I don’t eat baby octopus much, but this is nice.” A strange sense of relief settled in your chest. You took a small bite yourself, humming in delight when it did indeed taste good. Not as good as if your mom made it freshly but it was still yummy. You’d call our mom later to thank her for cooking for you.  By the time you were both finished eating, you felt exhausted. Standing and smiling at customers for hours was always exhausting, no matter which shift you had. You stood, grabbing your plate, but Sunghoon reached out before you could take his. “I got it.” You blinked. “You don’t have to–” He was already stacking the dishes. “You cooked. I’ll wash.” You hesitated, but after a second, you nodded. “Okay.” ──────────────────────── A few days later Sunghoon came home from the rink and was ready to just drop into his bed, maybe eat something if he still had eggs in the fridge. He signed when he opened the door to your apartment. He stopped in his tracks when he noticed it wasn’t silent, how it usually was.

Soft music played from the speaker in the kitchen, something mellow, with a steady rhythm. He frowned slightly, slipping off his shoes. You were usually  still at work or in your room when he got home. But now, as he stepped further inside, he saw you sitting at the kitchen table, completely absorbed in whatever you were doing. You were painting. Your brows were slightly furrowed, lips pressed together in focus. The soft light of the kitchen lamp illuminated your face, casting a warm glow on your skin. Sunghoon found himself pausing, watching as you carefully dragged your brush across the canvas. “You’re painting?” he asked, his voice breaking the quiet hum of the music. You flinched, clearly startled, before looking up at him. “Oh–yeah. They sent the interns home earlier today. I’ve been thinking about adding a second painting to the living room, if that’s fine with you.”

Sunghoon dropped his bag by the couch, stepping closer. “Yeah, sure. Go on Y/Nasso.” You hesitated for a moment before tilting your canvas slightly so he could see. It wasn’t finished yet. Soft, blended strokes created what looked like an ocean scene. The colours melted into each other, deep blues fading into lighter shades. “That’s really good,” Sunghoon said, his voice a little softer than usual. He wasn’t trying to flatter you. He genuinely thought it was impressive. You blushed a little, glancing down at the painting. “Thanks,” you murmured. “It’s the view from one of my favourite beaches in Tongyeong.” He pulled out a chair across from you, sitting down. “Do you still paint often?”

“Not really,” you admitted, dipping your brush into the water before reaching for a new colour. “I used to do it more. Back home.” He watched as you mixed a soft peachy hue, the movement of your hand precise, practised. “Why’d you stop?” You shrugged, not looking up. “I don’t know. Just got busy, I guess.” Sunghoon hummed in understanding, leaning back in his chair. He knew what that felt like, the way life could pull you away from things you enjoyed. “What made you start again?” For a moment, you didn’t answer. Then, finally, you sighed, glancing out the window. “I just… missed it. And I had some free time today so I thought I could use it by doing something I love.” Sunghoon nodded slowly, his gaze flickering back to your painting After a moment, he stood up, stretching. “Well, don’t let me interrupt your masterpiece.” You rolled your eyes but smiled slightly. “It’s not a masterpiece.” “Yet,” he said, smirking before heading toward the fridge. “Have you had dinner?”

You shook your head. “Not yet.” Sunghoon opened the fridge, rummaging through it. “Want me to make something? I was thinking of kimchi fried rice.”, he asked, half-expecting you to decline. You hesitated but then nodded. “Okay.” As he started pulling ingredients out, the quiet music continued playing, filling the space between you. He noticed that you replaced the flowers in the kitchen. The white tulips were gone and you changed the vase. The freesias you bought were arranged neatly in the window frame. His little sister was obsessed with flowers and made him learn the names of at least 30 different ones. They were pretty. Your voice startled him a bit when you started speaking. “How was your day today?” Sunghoon paused mid-chop, surprised. You usually didn’t really initiate conversations, so this was a first. “It was good,” he said, continuing to chop the vegetables. “Tiring, but good. My routine is a bit intense.” He turned toward you, his eyes catching yours for a moment. “How about you? How’s work been?”

You paused for a second, looking up from your canvas. “Not much happened today, so pretty chill actually,” you said, your voice light. “I am glad.”, he replied with a small nod. Then, after a brief pause, he said, “Have you ever been ice skating?” You blinked at him, clearly caught off guard. “Me? Ice skating?" “Yeah,” he grinned.  You shook your head and focused back on the canvas in front of you. “No, I haven’t tried it yet. I was thinking about going last winter. But my friends and I didn’t really have time for it. And we don’t really get snow or ice at home.” Sunghoon leaned against the counter, arms crossed as he looked at you. “Wait so you have never seen snow?” You glanced up at him, a small, unsure smile tugging at your lips. “I’ve been living here for 2 years now. I have seen snow in Seoul.”

“That’s insane,” he muttered, shaking his head. “What did you even do in the winter?”

You hesitated for a second, then quietly said, “Just… normal things? It wasn’t that different. We had the ocean instead of snow.”

Sunghoon huffed out a quiet laugh. “The ocean is great, but winter is so much better when you have snow.”

You gave a quiet laugh, your gaze dropping back to your painting. “Maybe. I don't like the cold tho.” 

“Nah, you’re just missing out.” He straightened up, turning back to the stove to check on the food. “Do you want to learn how to skate?”

“I am not sure I would be good at it," you said. 

“Well, good thing that I am very good at it. My friend Jake was able to teach his girlfriend how to skate so I am sure you could do it as well. It’s fun. You should definitely try.” 

You hummed noncommittally and started to clean up the table.

Sunghoon focused on finishing preparing the food. It was nothing fancy, just stir-fried vegetables, kimchi and rice with some grilled chicken, but it smelled good. He set a plate in front of you before grabbing his own and sitting across from you at the table.

 He made enough for the two of you, actually it was probably not enough for the both of you – or so he thought. But when you finished putting food onto your plate, he stared. His brows furrowed.

“…That’s all you’re eating?”

You looked up, blinking at him. “Yeah? Why?”

Sunghoon glanced between his plate and yours, then back again. His plate was nearly overflowing, while yours looked like what he considered a snack at best.

“That’s like, half of what I made for you,” he pointed out, still frowning.

You just shrugged. “I don’t eat a lot in one sitting.”

Sunghoon stared for another second before looking down at his own food. How were you even functioning on that?

He wasn’t exactly an expert on how much people should eat, but compared to his own portions – hell, even compared to what his sister or his mom ate – yours seemed ridiculously small.

His first instinct was to tell you to take more, but he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Instead, he picked up his chopsticks. He felt a bit weird about it but decided not to push.

The silence between you was comfortable, only broken by the occasional clinking of utensils against plates and the quiet music playing from the speaker.

After a few minutes, he spoke again. “You know,” he said casually, “you should come to one of my competitions sometime.”

Your eyes flicked up to him. “Your competitions?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back slightly. “They’re pretty cool.”

You took a sip of your water, considering. “Maybe,” you said finally.

Sunghoon smirked. “That’s not a no.”

You gave him a little smile. “I’ll think about it.”

That made him smile too.

All through the dinner his eyes kept drifting to your plate. He’d never really paid attention before, but now he was wondering – was this just a today thing, or was this normal for you He always assumed you ate a few snacks at the company or the theatre but if you were eating just this little portion, but maybe you really only ate the small pre-prepped lunch boxes, that were neatly stacked in the fridge.  ──────────────────────── Sunghoon had just finished mixing his protein shake when he heard keys jingle and the front door swung open.

He frowned, setting the shaker bottle down. You weren’t supposed to be home yet. It wasn’t even 4 p.m. Had your shift ended early? 

Still, he greeted you out of habit. “Hey, Y/N–”

But the person standing in the doorway was definitely not you.

Sunghoon froze. The guy in the doorway froze too.

For a long second, they just stared at each other, equally confused.

Sunghoon slowly lowered his shaker bottle. Who the hell–

“Uh…” the guy started, blinking a few times like he was trying to process the situation. Then, he pointed at Sunghoon. “You’re not Y/N.”

“No,” Sunghoon said flatly. “I’m not.”

The guy frowned, his head tilting slightly. “Then… who are you?”

Sunghoon crossed his arms. “I live here. Who are you?”

The guy’s face shifted as realization dawned on him. His confusion melted into something amused.

“Ohhh,” he said, dragging out the word. Then, he grinned and stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind him. “I’m Mark. Nice to meet you.”

Oh.

Oh.

Wait.

Mark as in your boyfriend Mark?

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked toward the fridge before he could stop himself. The slightly curled postcard from Busan hung beside a few photos he had found himself staring at more than once in the past week and a half. Mark was in a lot of them. Always close to you, arms slung around your shoulders, laughing together.

Sunghoon quickly cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, Mark. I’m Sunghoon.”

Mark hummed, already toeing off his sneakers. “Is Y/N still at work?” He dropped his bag by the door and strolled toward the kitchen.

Sunghoon, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening, hesitated before answering. “Uh… yeah? She usually gets home around 4:30. Sometimes a bit earlier.”

Mark nodded, completely unfazed. “Alright, cool.”

Then, like it was the most normal thing in the world, he reached into a cabinet, pulled out a glass, and filled it with water.

“How long have the two of you been together?”

Sunghoon nearly choked on air.

“What?” He spun around so fast that he nearly knocked over his protein shake.

Mark just shrugged, sipping his water like this was a completely normal conversation. “Y/N didn’t tell me she was seeing someone. Or, well… seeing someone seriously enough to let him move in with her.”

Sunghoon’s brain stalled. What. The. Hell.

“I hope it’s been at least half a year and you didn’t just sweet-talk her into letting you move in after, like, two months.” Mark narrowed his eyes slightly.

“Why–why would I be Y/N’s boyfriend?” Sunghoon blurted.

Isn’t Mark the boyfriend?! What was happening?

Mark gave him a look. “Dude,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You literally just said you live here.”

“Yeah, because I’m her roommate,” Sunghoon said, still trying to process this ridiculous conversation. “I pay rent and shit to be here.”

Mark blinked. “Wait. You’re her roommate?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon gestured vaguely at the apartment. “What else would I be?”

Mark tilted his head, considering. Then he shrugged. “I dunno, her boyfriend?”

Sunghoon let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his temples. “Dude, I thought you were her boyfriend.”

Mark burst out laughing.

“Me?” He pointed at himself, looking genuinely amused. “Oh, nah.” He shook his head, still grinning. “I’m her brother.”

Sunghoon’s brain short-circuited.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

Brother.

Oh. Okay.

Now that he really looked, Mark did have similar features to you. 

Mark just grinned, clearly entertained by the situation. “Damn, you really thought Y/N was cheating on me?”

Sunghoon groaned, leaning against the counter. “Can we not phrase it like that?”

Mark cackled. “That’s wild.”

Before Sunghoon could recover from the secondhand embarrassment of his own assumption, the front door suddenly swung open again.

“Oh my god,” your voice rang through the apartment, full of surprise and excitement. “Mark?!”

Sunghoon turned his head just in time to see you practically launch yourself at your brother. Mark barely had time to put down his glass before you crashed into him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming! I thought you were still at home!” You grinned up at him, eyes shining.

Mark ruffled your hair like it. “I wanted to surprise you. Taeyong packed you a snack box from home. Mom and Johnny’s Mom added some stuff too. You know, since you can’t come home.”

Your face lit up. “No way.”

Mark smirked. “Way.”

Sunghoon, still leaning against the counter, just watched as you glowed with excitement over the snacks and goodies from home.

But before he could fully process how different you looked right now—so happy, so genuinely overjoyed—Mark turned to you with an easy grin.

“So…” He dragged out the word, eyes flicking between you and Sunghoon. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

Sunghoon felt the moment you went stiff in Mark’s arms.

Your expression twisted in confusion. “What?”

Mark jerked his thumb toward Sunghoon. “You didn’t tell me you were dating your roommate.”

Silence.

A beat.

Then, your entire face went red.

Sunghoon could feel the heat radiating off you from where he stood.

“What?” you repeated, blinking rapidly.

Mark just smirked, clearly enjoying this. “You didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend.” He gestured toward Sunghoon, who was still standing there like an idiot.

Your eyes darted to Sunghoon like you were expecting him to say something but Sunghoon’s brain was still buffering.

Because all he could think about was how genuinely happy you had looked when you saw Mark.

He had never seen you like this.

So expressive. So open.

The way your face had lit up, the way your voice had lifted into something bright and completely unfiltered, it was cute. And, selfishly, Sunghoon wondered why.

Why did you always hold back a little around him? The small, bashful smiles, the careful responses. Was he that intimidating? He was trying so hard to get to know you, to be a good roommate that would turn into a friend. 

“We’re not dating.” Sunghoon finally managed, his voice a little more rushed than intended. “I’m just her roommate.”

You exhaled, pressing your hands to your very red cheeks. “Yes. He’s my roommate.”

Mark raised a brow, clearly not convinced.

“Right,” he said slowly, crossing his arms. “So you just let random guys move in with you now?”

“I didn’t—it’s not—” You groaned. “It’s a long story.”

Sunghoon, for some reason, felt the need to defend himself. “It’s not weird, okay? We barely even knew each other when I moved in.”

Mark snorted. “That makes it sound so much worse.”

Sunghoon opened his mouth, then closed it. Okay, fair.

You groaned again, looking like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. “Mr. Kang is renting the second room to Sunghoon.”

“No way. Your studio?”, Mark asked and looked at Sunghoon as if he had personally had the intention to steal your studio from you. 

“Yeah. It’s all right though. I always knew he could rent it out to someone that will show up.”, you leaned against the counter next to Mark. 

Mark was still looking at Sunghoon, but his facial expression had changed from accusation to something that looked like interest.

“Anyway,” he said focusing back on you, “Do you wanna open the package? I am praying that Johnny put in some of those dope cookies from the bakery under his office. If he did, I am claiming one-half.”

At that, your face brightened again, and Sunghoon caught himself watching the shift in your expression again. 

The way your eyes widened, the slight bounce in your stance, the way you leaned in just a little closer to Mark.

Mark unzipped the bag and pulled out a medium-sized cardboard box, setting it on the counter with a slight thud.

Your hands were already on the tape, peeling it open. “You had four weeks to eat the cookies from ppangjib. You get one. Or maybe two."

Mark grinned. “Deal.”

Sunghoon, though still a little confused by the whole situation, couldn’t help but glance into the box as you pulled back the flaps. Inside were neatly packed bags of homemade snacks, a few small wrapped gifts, and a handwritten letter sitting on top.

You immediately grabbed the letter, unfolding it with the kind of excitement that was usually reserved for kids on Christmas morning.

While you skimmed it, Mark reached into the box and pulled out a small bag of yakgwa, grinning. “Oh, sick. Mom made you some yakgwa.”

“No way.” You grabbed the bag from him, grinning just as wide.

Sunghoon almost asked what was so special about it–but then he checked the time.

Shit.

He had to get to training.

With a sigh, he grabbed his shaker bottle and slung his bag over his shoulder. “I gotta head out,” he said, glancing between the two of you. “Enjoy your snacks.”

You looked up from the letter. “Oh–right! You have training tonight.”

He nodded, shifting his bag higher on his shoulder. “Yeah.”

Mark, already chewing on a piece of yakgwa, gave him a lazy salute. “Have fun, man.”

Sunghoon huffed a small laugh before turning toward the door.  ──────────────────────── On the second Saturday after Sunghoon moved in, a soft knock on your door startled you from where you were curled up in your bed reading. “Yeah?” you called out, glancing toward the door. Sunghoon’s head appeared in the gap, his figure half-hidden behind the doorframe. “Hey,” he began, “a few of my friends want to come over and check out the apartment. Is that fine with you? I know you’ve got work tomorrow, but I promise we’ll keep it down when you want to head to bed.” You shifted slightly in your bed, sitting up to get a better look at him. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants, and he seemed a little sheepish like he wasn’t sure whether he was imposing. You smiled, the question barely making you think. “Oh, that's not a problem, Sunghoon. You live here too, after all. It’s not like I’m going to stop you from having friends over.” You stretched a little, trying to shake off the sleepiness in your limbs. “I don’t mind at all. I’m just reading anyway. Besides, it’s your apartment too.” He relaxed at your response, the tension in his posture easing as he gave a small, appreciative nod. “Thanks,” he said, looking genuinely relieved. “I’ll let them know we’ll keep it low-key.”

You nodded, offering a small smile. “No worries. You do you.” Then, as an afterthought, you added, “Just don’t be too loud around midnight. I haven’t really had parties here so I don’t know if our neighbours are cool with noise or not?” He chuckled again. “Yeah, I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen.” He glanced over his shoulder, then back at you. “You can come hang out later. If you want to.” You nodded in acknowledgement, giving him a small wave. “Ah. Uhm. Thanks. But I think I’m good. I’ll sleep soon anyway.”

Sunghoon grinned and gave a quick nod before closing the door behind him, leaving you in peace once again. You could hear him bustling around in the kitchen, probably making snacks or food for him and his friends. It was kind of weird. To have someone in your apartment this long that wasn’t Mark. But Sunghoon wasn’t the worst person to live with. He was a very clean person and living together with him these past weeks was really peaceful. You kinda liked having someone around in the evenings. Sometimes, especially during the summer break, you feel a bit lonely. Sure you met some of your friends in the studio or the cinema, but you were working there, not hanging out. So your small conversations were very nice. He was listening to a lot of music and he seemingly enjoyed having his room door open, so whenever you read or sketched in the kitchen or living room you listened to the music he was playing. ──────────────────────── At some point in the evening, your stomach started to growl. You cursed yourself for not having eaten more for lunch. You could hear laughing and music from the living room. Your stomach wouldn’t stop growling so you begrudgingly put your book away and stood up from your bed. 

You hesitated for a moment when you reached your door. You weren’t really dressed for guests, let alone Sunghoon’s friends. You were still in your cosy striped pyjamas, hair braided messily from your earlier nap, and you hadn’t even bothered to put on any makeup. Your stomach growled again, which made you sign and push your door open. The laughter grew louder, and you could hear them chatting away in the kitchen.

As soon as you entered, four pairs of eyes turned to look at you.

Before you could even consider retreating, one of them looked up. He was tall, with sharp eyes and an easygoing smile. “Oh, hey!” he said like he wasn’t about to make your night significantly worse. “You must be Y/N.”

“Oh, uh–hi,” you said, your voice coming out slightly too high. Your fingers tugged nervously at your shirt.

Sunghoon turned to you, looking far too amused for your liking. “This is Jay, Heeseung, and Jake,” he said, nodding toward each of them. “Guys, this is Y/N.”

Heeseung leaned back against the couch. “Dude, your apartment is so nice,” he said. “Did you decorate it?”

You blinked. “Uh–what?”

“The apartment,” Jake chimed in, grinning. “It looks really good. Feels like a Pinterest board. My girlfriend would love it.”

“Oh! Um–yeah, I did?” You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, shifting awkwardly. “I mean, I just… put some things together. I like interior stuff, so…”

“Man, Sunghoon lucked out,” Jay said, shaking his head. “My first roommate had, like, one folding chair and a mattress on the floor.”

“Hey!?”, Heeseung said and turned to Jay, “I was your first roommate?”

“Yeah. And we have been living in our dorm for 3 years now. The only reason why you have more than your bed and a keyboard collection is because your girl made you buy a rug and some decoration.”, Jay deadpanned. “How did she phrase it again? She was glad you have a big dick and that she loves you but you but if she had to look at that keyboard corner again she would throw all of them away?”

Jake and Sunghoon snorted while Heeseung tried to defend himself: ”I bought those with her, okay, my room looks fine you stupid piece of shit.”

“See I am really happy to have Y/N as my roommate. She has rugs and decorations. And a normal amount of keyboards.”, Sunghoon grinned at you. 

The guys laughed again, and you forced out a nervous chuckle.

“Oh, the paintings? Those are yours, right?” Jay asked, nodding toward the kitchen. “They’re sick.”

You had already been flustered enough–first with the whole walking into a room full of good-looking strangers in your pyjamas situation, then with them complimenting your decorating, and now this.

Your paintings.

It was weird hearing people—people other than your brother or your friends—talk about them, at least the ones you had hung up here and at home. You weren’t used to it. It felt like they were looking at something too personal, like flipping through a journal you hadn’t meant to leave out.

“She’s really good,” Sunghoon said, leaning back in his chair like he was enjoying this way too much. “But she gets all shy when people talk about it.”

Your head snapped toward him, eyes wide with betrayal. He just grinned.

“Did you paint all of them?” Jay asked, nodding toward the kitchen.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. Mostly last summer.”

“Damn,” Jake said, shaking his head. “That’s sick. I can barely draw a stick figure.”

You let out a small, awkward laugh. “Thank you.”

Before you could recover, Sunghoon gestured toward the pizza box. “Are you hungry? We ordered way too much.”

“Oh–no, no, it’s fine,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “I was just going to warm up something from the fridge.”

He just raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“I swear this is so much and we are all supposed to watch over our diets. You’d be doing a good thing by stealing a slice or two.”, Jake said before stealing a gummy bear from Jay.

“…Maybe just one slice,” you mumbled.

Jake’s smile widened. “Sure, take as many as you want.”

He slid a plate toward you, and you shuffled over, still feeling painfully awkward. You perched on the arm of the couch next to Sunghoon, back stiff.

“Y/N.”, Heeseung leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. “Are you coming to the beginning-of-the-semester party next Friday?”

You blinked. “The… what?”

Jay chuckled. “The semester opening party. Each semester one of the teams throws one, this semester it's the baseball players.”

“Oh.” You swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You hadn’t even heard about it. You shifted slightly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I–um. I don’t really know. I usually work on Fridays, so…”

Jake tilted his head. “Yeah, Sunghoon did say you work a lot.”

You opened your mouth, then hesitated. You did work a lot. But it wasn’t like you didn’t have free time… you just never really did much with it.

Jake leaned in a little, his voice gentle. “If you don’t have work that night, you should come. It’s not, like, a crazy party or anything. Just fun. You can just hang out, meet some people.”

“You don’t even have to drink,” Jay added quickly. “I mean, most people do, but you don’t have to. There’s food. Music. It’s chill.”

You felt all their eyes on you, waiting for your answer. You shifted again, fingers curling around the edge of your plate.

“Oh. Um.” You wet your lips. “I’ll… think about it?”

Heeseung smiled, nodding. “That’s fair.”

Jake grinned. “Yeah, no pressure.” ──────────────────────── Except that, it was pressure. 

The hum of the popcorn machine filled the quiet lobby, the scent of butter lingering in the air. The morning shifts were always slow—just a few scattered customers, mostly older couples and parents wrangling excited kids. You handed a soda to a woman with two small boys, murmuring a polite “Enjoy your movie” as she thanked you and walked off.

Sunoo, who had been leaning against the counter snacking on popcorn, gave you a look. “Okay, spill.”

You frowned. “What?”

“You look weird.” He popped another kernel into his mouth. “A bit constipated. What are you thinking so deeply about? 

You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “…It’s nothing.”

Sunoo narrowed his eyes. “Liar.”

You exhaled, already knowing you weren’t going to get away with it. “…Sunghoon’s friends came over last night.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Heeseung, Jay, and Jake?”

You blinked surprised. “…How did you know?”

At the same time, you weren’t really surprised. Sunoo had a way of knowing everything and everyone. He was the definition of a social butterfly.

He grinned. “They’re his closest friends. He’s always with them.” Then, he leaned in. “Tell me more.”

You sighed, wiping your hands on a napkin. “It wasn’t a big deal. They just came over to see the apartment and hang out. I ran into them when I went to the kitchen.”

“And?” Sunoo prompted, eyes gleaming with interest.

“And… they were nice,” you admitted. “They complimented the apartment and–” you hesitated, then added reluctantly, “my paintings.”

Sunoo gasped dramatically. “No. Way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god, calm down.”

“No, because you get all shy when people talk about your art. How did you survive that?”

“I almost didn’t.” You groaned, covering your face. “Sunghoon called me out for being awkward about it.”

Sunoo cackled. “That is kind of funny.”

You shot him a glare. “Not to me.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, waving a hand. “And then?”

You hesitated for a moment before saying, “They… invited me to a party next week.”

Sunoo froze.

His expression went from shocked to utterly gobsmacked in less than a second. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.”

“Wait like, the sports team party?”

“…I think?”

He gawked at you. “You think? Y/N, do you even realize how exclusive those are? The end and beginning of semester parties are mostly for the teams and their close friends.” He leaned in. “It’s at a different frat house each semester, but you have to know people to get in.”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I guess… I know people now?”

Sunoo smacked your arm lightly. “Oh my god, this is huge.”

“It’s really not.”

“It is.” He placed a hand over his heart. “You have to take me with you.”

You groaned. “Sunoo–”

“Please.” His eyes widened. “This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. We’d be insane not to go.”

You chewed on your lip. “I don’t know… I feel like I’d just be awkward.”

Sunoo softened slightly. “You might. But you might also have fun.”

You sighed.

“If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll leave with you,” he promised. “I swear.”

You hesitated before finally mumbling, “…I’ll think about it.”

Sunoo beamed. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Sunoo was not letting this go.

“You have to take me with you,” he said, gripping your wrist.

You groaned. “Sunoo.”

“Please.” His eyes widened dramatically. “Do you even understand what this means? This is like–like being invited to the Met Gala of frat parties.”

You gave him a look. “You are so dramatic.”

“Am I?” He scoffed. “Y/N, do you realize how hard it is to get into one of these? And you got invited. You!” He clutched his chest like he was about to faint.

You shifted uncomfortably. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

Sunoo’s jaw dropped. “Not that big of a deal? Y/N, if I had even breathed in the direction of these parties before, I would’ve been escorted out.”

You bit your lip, hesitating. If not even Sunoo had been invited to one of these parties they probably were a big thing. Johnny was always talking about how he enjoyed going to parties. You loved hearing his and Taeyongs stories every time they came home. They did romanticize uni life a bit in your opinion. Or maybe you were just doing something wrong. Maybe you could try going to that party.  

Sunoos face softened slightly. “Look,” he said, “I get it. Big parties aren’t your thing. And, yeah, it might be overwhelming at first. But, Y/N, you deserve to have fun.”

“I do have fun,” you muttered.

Sunoo gave you a knowing look. “Working and studying doesn’t count.”

You sighed.

“If you don’t like it, we’ll leave,” he promised. “I swear. I won’t ditch you. But at least try.”

You hesitated, staring at the counter, before finally mumbling, “…Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Sunoo grinned like he had already won. “That’s all I needed to hear.” ──────────────────────── It was way too early when you made your way through the market, near your apartment. Despite it being 7:30 am, the market was already bustling with life. It was never truly empty, and if it was then the stall owners made sure that it was at least as loud as it is with customers there. The air smelled like fresh produce and spice but the closer you got to the stand you needed to go the more the air smelled like flowers. 

You stopped in front of a stall called ‘Spring Flowers Right Next to You' and greeted the elderly lady behind the stall with a warm smile. You stopped by once a week to buy your flowers, so the Ajumma greeted you with an even warmer smile. She reminded you a lot of your own grandmother. 

"Good morning, Ajumma," you said, stepping closer.

"Ah, Y/N!", her hands were arranging some petals. "It’s so lovely to see you again, my child. Do you have any particular flowers in mind today?"

“Not really. I think I’ll just buy whatever speaks to me today.”, you answered, softly shaking your head.

You walked slowly, taking your time to browse through the vibrant bouquets and paused in front of the pink peonies. You’ve always loved peonies, but you really didn’t feel like having to carry them around all day, since a bouquet was quite big and your working space in the studio was quite small. Maybe you could give them to the lady at the front desk again. You continued to wander until you reached the chrysanthemums. The yellow ones were beautiful today. You reached out to gently touch one, admiring how full they were. They would go well with the new painting you had in mind for the kitchen. Maybe you could finish that before the flowers wilted.

You gathered a few of the flowers and walked back to the ajumma. She wiped her hands on her apron. "Yellow chrysanthemums today, Y/N? You usually stay with less vibrant colours.” You hummed when she started wrapping the flowers in some old newspaper. “Yeah. I thought I should try something new.”

Her face grew more serious, though still warm. “Yellow chrysanthemums can symbolize caution or a warning.”

You frowned slightly, taking in the flowers again.  "Really?" You chuckled lightly, not taking it too seriously. "They’re so pretty, though."

The Ajumma gave you a small smile, "If you feel like buying them, then maybe be careful. Something might happen, my love."

You stared at her for a moment, unsure of how to react. "Oh," you said slowly. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

With a polite thank you, you paid and made your way out, chrysanthemums in hand.

As you left the market, the sunlight began to feel warmer, the air thick with the early morning heat.  ──────────────────────── When you arrived home, Sunghoon was already there, his sneakers discarded by the door. He glanced up from his phone as you walked in, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth when he noticed the flowers in your hands.

“Oh hey you bought new flowers.”, he said smiling at you. "They look nice."

You smiled softly, setting them down on the counter. "Yeah, I thought they’d brighten things up a bit. I usually tend to go with softer colors or white but somehow the yellow spoke to me this morning."

He came over, inspecting them with a thoughtful expression. "I like how you always have flowers around here. It makes it feel more... cozy, I guess."

You nodded, while reaching for a new vase. “I like the way they make the place feel, too."

The freesias that were sitting in the window still were still blooming. You reached over the sink and grabbed the old flowers, putting them into the living room and exchanging them with the new chrysanthemums. 

Sunghoon stood there for a moment, watching you work. He then shifted his weight, looking at you with a hint of curiosity. "So, have you thought about the party this weekend?"

You paused, your fingers lightly grazing the flowers in the vase as you considered his question. "I’m still not sure," you admitted softly, glancing up at him. "I mean, it’s just... I don’t know."

Sunghoon tilted his head, his eyes soft but insistent. "It’s going to be fun. You’ve been working so hard lately. You deserve to get out and relax." He stepped closer, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "Think of it as roommate bonding time. I'd love to see you outside of the apartment too. You know, I’ve only seen you in PJs and your work outfits. I don’t even know if you have anything in your closet that's not suit pants or a gigantic washed out T-shirt."

You felt heat creep up your neck. He really hasn’t seen you in any normal outfits yet. You haven’t been spending your free time outside a lot, so you never wore anything aside from working uniforms and Pyjamas. You hesitated, feeling a bit nervous about the idea, but considering he and Sunoo both claimed you should spend more time outside of work and uni you probably should. You knew you should. You just sometimes, okay most of the times, felt a bit uncomfortable and too tired for social interactions, especially when you had to meet new people. 

But the thought of spending time with Sunghoon outside the apartment  felt a little exciting. He was quite nice and maybe you could turn from roommates to friends. You always thought you would struggle more when living in a shared apartment but Sunghoon somehow made it easy. You always feared you would feel uncomfortable outside of your room but you liked having Sunghoon`s presence around.

"Okay," you said, surprising yourself. "I’ll go."

Sunghoon's grin widened, clearly pleased. "That’s the spirit! I’ll make sure it’s a good time, I promise." ──────────────────────── By the time Sunghoon made it home, he was done. 

Completely exhausted. 

His entire body ached from training and his wrist was throbbing. If he wanted to keep up with his competition and impress the scouts for the Olympic team, his execution had to be perfect.

Perfect footwork. Perfect jumps. Perfect landings.

Too bad he’d wiped out twice today.

And landed on his wrist, both times. The neon pink tape Wonyoung put onto it helped slightly with the pain.

With a sigh, Sunghoon kicked off his sneakers and slung his bag onto the floor, barely mustering the energy to shuffle further inside.

The apartment smelled faintly of paint.

When he looked up, he found you sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over the coffee table, surrounded by brushes and tubes of oil paint. You were wearing an oversized lab coat with a few colourful smudges on the fabric. Your hair was in that same slightly messy braid you always did, a few strands falling loose around your face.

Sunghoon felt a strange, fleeting sense of familiarity at the sight. His younger sister used to wear her hair like that all the time, and at some point, she had forced him to learn how to braid too. He would also come home to find her sitting in front of the TV studying or eating hunched over the table. 

Instead of heading straight to his room like he normally would after a brutal training session, he walked over to the couch and let himself collapse onto it with a groan.

You looked up. “Tough day?”

He let out a short, humourless laugh. “You could say that.”

Your eyes flickered to his hands, and before he could stop you, you asked in a soft voice, “Did you fall?”

Sunghoon hesitated.

“Just a little.”

Your expression made it very clear you didn’t believe him.

“Okay, maybe more than a little,” he admitted, rubbing the sore spot on his wrist. “Coach keeps drilling me on this footwork section. It’s not even the hardest part of my program, but I swear I’m losing my mind.”

You hummed in understanding, but your attention was already back on your painting.

That was fine. Sunghoon didn’t need a response. He just needed to sit here and let his brain switch off. It was nice that you were out of your room again. Usually, he didn’t see that much of you but you seemed to feel a bit more comfortable around him now, so you were more in the shared rooms of the apartment. 

His eyes drifted back to the TV, catching sight of a painfully dramatic scene. The female lead was running in the rain, and the male lead was standing there, staring after her.

A few minutes passed before he finally asked, “What are you working on?”

You glanced at him, surprised. “It’s part of a series I’m doing.”

“Series?”

You nodded, hesitating a little before explaining, “I’ve been painting dishes from my childhood. Meals I grew up with, the ones that remind me of home.” You gestured toward your canvas. “This one is my mom’s kimchi jjigae. She used to make it whenever someone had a bad day.”

Sunghoon stared at the painting for a moment.

“That’s… really cool,” he found himself saying.

You blinked at him, clearly not expecting that either.

“Thanks,” you murmured, going back to your work.

A comfortable silence settled between you, the only sound coming from the TV.  ──────────────────────── You yawned while opening the door, stepping into the apartment and kicking off your shoes. Work had drained you, and the thought of going to a party tonight made you feel even more exhausted. You weren’t sure if it was nerves or just the lingering headache, but either way, you needed a break before even thinking about getting ready.

“Hey,” you mumbled, rubbing at your temples. “I think I’m gonna nap for an hour before we go. Is that okay? I could also just drink a cup of coffee if not.”

Sunghoon, who was lounging on the couch with his phone, looked up from the screen and nodded without hesitation. “Of course. Don’t worry about it. I wouldn’t want to get there on time anyway.”

“Oh. Okay. When do you want to be there?”, you asked, a bit unsure as to when coming to a party was appropriate. 

“Around ten? Maybe eleven? Imma ask the others but probably around that time. You will even have time to get ready. Gotta impress the jocks, don’t we, Y/Ncasso?”, he smirked at you. 

“Oh. I wasn’t really planning on doing that?”, you said, shrugging and Sunghoon chuckled at that.

“Sure.” 

Without another word, you went straight to your room, shutting the door quietly behind you. As soon as your head hit the pillow, you let out a long sigh. You tried to push aside the anxiety gnawing at your stomach. You hadn't been to many parties before, especially ones like this. You closed your eyes and let yourself drift off.

About an hour later, you reluctantly pulled yourself out of bed. Your head was still heavy, the migraine a constant throb beneath your temples. You could feel your nerves creeping back up as you walked out of your room, rubbing your eyes.

“Hey, Sunghoon,” you said, standing in the bathroom doorway. Sunghoon was already getting ready, styling his hair in the mirror. You gave him a small smile, trying to push away the nervousness in your chest.

“I don’t wanna drink a lot tonight,” you said, your voice a little softer than you would have liked. "Is that okay?"

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. “Why? Are you a lightweight?”

You rolled your eyes but felt the flush creeping up your neck. “I’m just asking. I don’t really drink much at all.”

He leaned against the sink, looking you up and down with a teasing glint in his eyes. “Y/N, you’re seriously asking if it’s cool to not drink a lot? What kind of question is that? It’s just a party. You’ll be fine.”

You bit your lip, still feeling a little uneasy about the whole idea of the party. “It’s just... I don’t know. I’ve not really been to many parties.”

Sunghoon’s face softened. “You don’t have to worry. It’s gonna be fun, alright? You don’t have to drink if you don’t want to. We’re just hanging out. I’ll make sure you’re not left to fend for yourself and Sunoo will also be there. If you feel uncomfortable I’ll bring you home, I promise.”

The soft, almost protective tone he used made you relax a little, and your anxiety loosened just enough for you to take a deep breath. You nodded.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He laughed slightly and turned back to the mirror. “Always. Don’t stress, alright? It's just a party. There is going to be lots of drunk people and no one will notice if you don’t drink. They will be too busy getting drunk.”

You smiled, though it was still a little tight around the edges. Sunghoon caught your glance and, after a moment of silence, his expression softened into something more reassuring. 

“Come on, it’s going to be okay, yeah? We’ll get there, and we’ll just hang out. You’ll be alright, I promise.”

You gave a reluctant nod, grateful for his words. You stretched out, trying to shake off the drowsiness, and took a deep breath.

"Okay. I’m going to eat the rest of the kimchi jiggae from yesterday and then change." ──────────────────────── The moment you stepped into the house, the overwhelming mix of loud music, sweaty bodies, and flashing lights hit you all at once. The air smelled like alcohol, something vaguely fruity, and whatever cologne the guy who just stumbled past you had drenched himself in.

You were already regretting this.

Before you could fully process your surroundings, a loud voice called out: “Y/N!!!”

You barely had time to react before Jake launched himself at you, arms wrapping around you in an enthusiastic, borderline crushing hug.

You froze immediately. Your arms stayed stiff at your sides as Jake rocked you side to side, laughing and giggling.

“Oh my God,” he slurred. “I knew you’d come! I told Sunghoon you were gonna come!”

Your eyes darted around, searching for Sunghoon and you stared at him in a plea for help.

Sunghoon, being the absolutely useless person he was, was not helping. Instead, he stood a few steps away, arms crossed, watching you with a big, shit-eating grin.

You glared at him. He just smiled wider.

Hesitantly, you lifted a hand and gave Jake a few awkward pats on the back and he beamed. He finally pulled away just as Jay approached. Unlike Jake, he didn’t tackle you. He just gave you a half-hug, clapping your shoulder lightly. “Glad you came,” he said with an easygoing smile.

You managed a small nod, still recovering from the ambush hug. “Uh. Yeah. Thanks.”

Before you could even take a breath, another person appeared, practically draping herself over Jay’s side.

“Baaaby,” she whined, stretching the word out dramatically. “I want more shots.”

Jake, who had just released you from his bear hug, perked up immediately. “Oh yes, shots!” he cheered, eyes shining.

Jay turned to the girl with a rather lovesick smile. “What do you want, baby?.”

“Vodka? Tequila? I don’t care.”, she shrugged. 

Sunghoon leaned down slightly so you could hear him over the music. “That’s Jay’s girlfriend,” he murmured, nodding towards the girl. “She and Jake together are, like, dumb and dumber when they’re drunk.”

You raised an eyebrow, watching as the two of them clung to each other, giggling over something completely unintelligible.

“They seem… enthusiastic,” you said hesitantly.

Sunghoon snorted. “They are. Jake’s girlfriend is probably off getting high somewhere, so later we just have to deal with dumb, dumber, and dumbest and whoever they rope into their mess.”

Oh. This really sounded like one of the parties Johnny used to tell you about. Somehow you felt a bit weird being surrounded by all of these strangers being drunk. Usually, you only drank with your friends at home or in a restaurant, so this was something completely new. You opened your mouth to respond to Sunghoon but were interrupted by cheers that echoed through the whole house, coming from different directions.

“Katy shot!” Jake bellowed.

“Katy shot!” Jay’s girlfriend echoed, nodding enthusiastically. You were glad Jay had her arm around her since she seemed a bit wonky on her legs.

Before you could even ask what was happening, a guy materialized out of thin air with a vodka bottle and a stack of shot cups, moving with the efficiency of someone who had clearly done this a thousand times before. The others were cheering on him and he was laughing like some kind of a lunatic. 

One by one, he poured shots and handed them out, barely even looking as he passed them around.

And then, before you could even protest, he shoved a shot glass into your hand, too.

You blinked down at the clear liquid.

“What,” you said flatly.

Sunghoon, standing next to you, huffed a quiet laugh. “It’s a thing for the hockey players,” he explained. “Every time a Katy Perry song plays, they take a shot.”

“…Why?”

He shrugged. “Tradition.”

You glanced back up at the others, who were all now holding their shots high in the air, looking at you expectantly.

“To Katy!” someone announced.

“To Katy!” the rest echoed.

You turned to Sunghoon again.

He leaned in slightly, voice low enough for only you to hear. “You don’t have to drink it, you know.”

You bit your lip. You had told him earlier that you didn’t want to drink much tonight. But… it was just one shot. And everyone was looking at you expectantly.

So, before you could overthink it, you raised your glass and knocked it back.

The vodka burned on the way down, and you barely had time to process it before the other girl cheered, Jake clapped you on the back, and Jay grinned.

Sunghoon just shook his head and took his shot. ──────────────────────── Sunghoon was leaning against the sofa, half-listening to Jay argue with Jake about their next beer pong shot. His own cup sat untouched beside him. He was pacing himself, knowing he had practice tomorrow and he did not intend to show up hung over. His coach was already on him for falling last week so he didn’t want to even try his luck and skate hungover. The music thumped through the house, bass vibrating beneath his feet, and the heat of too many bodies in a small space was starting to get to him.

He glanced over at you, watching as you hesitated before stepping closer.

“Sunoo is here,” you said, raising your voice slightly over the music. “I’m gonna go find him.”

Sunghoon nodded. “Yeah, go ahead,” he said smiling at you.

As you disappeared into the crowd, he turned back to Jay and Jake, who were still discussing their game strategy. Sunghoon took a sip of his drink, sighing as he tuned them out. For a while, he let himself get caught up in the game. He played a round of beer pong, winning against Jake, who was way too drunk to aim properly, before getting pulled into a conversation with some of Jay’s friends. But even as he talked, he found his eyes drifting back to you.

You were with whom he assumed to be Sunoo, just as you said you’d be, laughing at something one of the baseball players said, that came in with Sunoo. Sunghoon recognized a few of them vaguely. He watched as one of them, a little taller than the rest, leaned in slightly while talking to you.

Sunghoon wasn’t sure why, but something about it made his jaw tighten as he saw you taking a slight step back, your smile reverting back to the small reserved ones you always had when you were uncomfortable or felt especially shy. He hasn’t seen that in quite a while now.

He shook the word feeling off, going back to his drink. You were fine. 

Then, a few minutes later, the guy stood up and made his way toward the kitchen.

He watched as the guy grabbed a couple of cups and a few bottles from the counter.

He handed out the cups and to Sunghoons surprise you also took one cup. You hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking it, your fingers barely brushing against the cup.

You weren’t smiling as much anymore. You weren’t laughing like you had been with Sunoo. Your shoulders seemed a little stiffer now, your weight shifting slightly as if you were debating stepping back.

Sunghoon frowned, tapping his fingers against the rim of his cup.

You were uncomfortable. He could tell.

And suddenly, guilt crept up his spine.

You didn’t even want to come in the first place.

He had been the one to convince you. 

And now here you were, standing in the middle of a room full of people you barely knew, clutching a drink you probably didn’t even want.

Sunghoon exhaled sharply, setting his cup down on the counter with a soft thud. He didn’t know if he was overthinking things, but he did tell you that if you felt uncomfortable he or his friends would help you out.

So casually he started making his way toward you. Sunghoon had barely taken a step toward you when a firm hand landed on his shoulder.

“Park,” a familiar voice drawled.

He turned to see Hyunjin, one of the more senior skaters. Despite the loud music and chaotic energy of the party, Hyunjin looked as relaxed as ever, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

“Haven’t seen you drink much,” Hyunjin noted, tilting his own half-empty cup toward Sunghoon. “You’re really out here being responsible?”

Sunghoon snorted. “Some of us have practice tomorrow.”

Hyunjin laughed, shaking his head. “You shouldn’t have told coach you are trying out for the Olympics. He’s already making you run that new program into the ground.”

Sunghoon hummed in agreement, but his attention was already elsewhere.

Across the room, you were still standing with that guy. Sunghoon didn’t know his name but he was talking to you with a bit too much interest, hands moving animatedly as he spoke.

You weren’t saying much. Sunghoon had come to know you well enough to recognize when you were just being polite. The way your shoulders stayed stiff, the way your fingers fidgeted slightly at your side. 

Sunghoon forced himself to look away. Maybe you were interested and just didn’t know how to react. Hell, he knew best how awkward you could be when you met new people. He was just overthinking things.

He shifted his weight, keeping one ear on whatever Hyunjin was saying while his eyes flickered back to you.

Hyunjin snapped his fingers in front of Sunghoon’s face. “Hello? Are you even listening?”

Sunghoon blinked, forcing himself to focus. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, glancing at you once more. “Yeah. I am just a bit tired.”──────────────────────── The music thudded in your chest, vibrating through your bones. Your head was pounding, your vision blurry, and there was a weird, giddy sensation bubbling up in you like everything was too funny. You didn’t feel like yourself.

Your hand was still gripping your drink. You tried to concentrate on his words, but the pounding in your head was intensifying. It wasn’t unusual for you to get a migraine, especially with the noise and lights in a place like this. It felt like your mouth was moving without you even thinking about it when you were answering whatever question Injang just asked.

“So, what brings you here tonight?” He asked, leaning in slightly, his voice a little too loud to make it easy to follow.

You could feel his eyes on you, more intent than necessary. “Um... I came with Sunghoon? He’s my roommate.”

“Ah, cool. You two must be close,” he said, his grin widening. “How long have you known each other?”

You tried to concentrate on his words, but the pounding in your head was intensifying. “I—I don’t know, a few weeks?” you replied, your voice trailing off into a giggle.

He continued asking questions, and you tried your best to follow along, giving short, vague answers. Your thoughts felt slow, fuzzy, and your vision started to swim a little, but you chalked it up to the headache that was now making its presence known.

“Hey, Y/N, you sure you’re okay?” Injang’s voice broke through the fuzz. His proximity was suddenly too much, his words a little too loud, and yet it made you want to giggle like there was something funny about how he was looking at you, how close he was.

You blinked rapidly, trying to shake off the haze in your brain, but instead, the dizziness swirled, the world spinning around you.

“I... I’m fine, I’m fine,” you muttered, trying to reassure him, though you weren’t even sure you believed it. Your words were slurred, and you felt the giggles bubbling up, like a laugh track in your head, though there was nothing funny happening.

He kept leaning in, his hand brushing your arm, his smirk growing wider. You tried to focus on him, but it was hard to concentrate on anything other than the pressure in your skull and the odd sense of lightness in your limbs.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, leaning even closer, and you could feel his breath on your face. His voice sounded like it was echoing from far away. Your mouth felt dry, but you still wanted to laugh. It was all so weird.

“I... yeah,” you giggled softly, barely able to catch your breath. It was so hard to keep it together. “I’m just... I’m just a little tired, y’know? Need... water...” You tried to push past him, but your legs felt unsteady, as though they weren’t entirely yours. You could hardly keep your balance, and the noise became so much louder like it was vibrating inside your skull. You placed a hand on the wall for support, just trying to stay on your feet. The room was spinning, and you tried to focus, to remember where the kitchen was, but it felt like you had to move through molasses. Your vision blurred at the edges, but you focused on the thought of just getting some water, something to cool down the spinning in your head. You leaned against the wall to steady yourself, the world around you tilting sideways.

But before you could move, you felt his hand again. This time, it wasn’t just a touch; it was a grip, his fingers wrapping around your waist, pulling you back. You tried to tug away, but your body wasn’t listening.

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you out, alright? You don’t have to be so shy,” Injang’s voice was thick now, too close for comfort. His touch sent an uncomfortable shiver through you.

Everything felt wrong, but you were too tired to fight it. The giggles still threatened to slip from your mouth, but you pushed them down. You knew you needed to get away from him, but every part of you felt so heavy, and your movements weren’t your own. You were trapped in this slow, sluggish fog.

You tried to move away from him, but your body wasn’t responding the way it should, your feet dragging with each slow step. "Seriously, Y/N, you're cute when you're all quiet like this," he continued, stepping even closer until you could feel the heat of his body at your back. "I’m just worried about you. You sure you’re not feeling anything... weird?" 

You flinched, trying to pull away, but he kept his grip, his fingers brushing down to your waist in a way that made you feel exposed and uncomfortable. “Come on, don't be shy. It's just a party. We’re just having fun, right?” His voice was low and thick like it was supposed to be reassuring, but it just made your stomach twist in on itself. Everything felt off. This wasn’t right. Your thoughts were foggy, too confused to make sense of it, but you knew enough to feel uncomfortable. You barely registered that your feet were still dragging, moving you backwards towards the counter, away from him.

But before you could get any farther, you heard loud voices—like shouting—though it sounded muffled, distorted. Then, you heard Sunghoon's voice cut through the noise. “Get your hands off her. Now.” Your heart picked up speed, your pulse pounding in your ears. 

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, barely able to keep your eyes open, the words slipping out without you even meaning to speak them. You thought you heard a shuffle of footsteps, the sound of someone else stumbling, but your vision was swimming again, too blurred to catch the full picture. You vaguely made out Sunghoon moving closer, his shadow blocking out the light from the hallway. "Did I fucking stutter? I said, get off her," Sunghoon growled, the anger in his tone clear now. Injang didn’t let go immediately. You could hear him chuckling, but it was shaky and nervous, and you felt him try to touch your arm again. “I was just trying to... you know... be friendly.”

“Friendly?”, Sunghoon spat, “This is not friendly.”

The next thing you knew, there was a quick movement. But before you could do much else, your knees buckled. The sound of the voices and the music became distorted again like you were hearing it underwater. You tried to take a step forward, but your body didn’t listen to you, and in a blink, everything went black. ──────────────────────── The moment you collapsed, it was like time stopped. Your body crumpled to the floor like a ragdoll. Sunghoon barely managed to catch you in time, feeling the weight of your body press into him as you fell limp in his arms. His heart slammed in his chest. 

"Y/N?" he shook you gently, but you didn’t respond. Your head flopped back, your eyes closed, and your face was pale.

What the fuck was going on?

"Someone call 112!" Sunghoon yelled. He held you against him, trying to shake you awake, but you remained unresponsive. “Y/N? Y/N, wake up!”

The kitchen had gone eerily silent, the music and chatter fading into the background. The people around him were now all staring.

Sunoo had been standing at the edge of the room, just a few feet away when it all went down. 

"Oh my god," he gasped, as he rushed forward.

He knelt beside Sunghoon, his breath coming in short, shaky bursts. His eyes flickered between Sunghoon and you.

"What happened to her? What's wrong with her?" Sunoo’s voice was panicked. His gaze darted between your pale face and Sunghoon’s frantic movements. Sunghoon carefully laid you down on the floor and onto your side. He checked your pulse, your breathing and that if you threw up you wouldn’t choke on your vomit.

Sunghoon's mind raced as he tried to figure out what could have happened. You had been fine when you came here. You said your migraine had been getting worse after a while at the party you, but you wouldn’t faint from a headache. Not this quickly. Something else was going on.

He looked around the room, eyes searching for the guy who had been sticking so damn close to you earlier. His hands were shaking as he tried to make sense of the situation.

"Call 112," he shouted at Sunoo, pushing through the growing panic. "Call 112, now!"

Sunghoon’s voice was firm despite the rising panic. “She’s been drugged,” he said through clenched teeth. "She didn't drink with me. And I didn’t see her take more than two sips of her drink afterwards.”

Sunoo’s eyes went wide with disbelief, his hands hovering over you like he was too scared to touch you. “What? No. No, this can’t be happening. I- she- she was fine just a few minutes ago.” His voice cracked, the fear and shock written all over his face. He carefully took your face into his hands. “Y/N, wake up. Wake up,” he muttered.

Sunghoon looked around the room again, his eyes searching for Injang. He had to be the one responsible.

He turned to Sunoo. “Stay with her,” he commanded. “Don’t leave her, alright? I’ll find that guy.”

Sunoo nodded, his face pale, his lips pressed into a tight line. Sunghoon pushed through the crowd, the noise and the panic rising as more people realized what was going on.

When he spotted Injang near the back of the living room, casually laughing with his friends as if nothing had happened, Sunghoon’s blood boiled. Without thinking, he rushed over, grabbing Injang by the collar and yanking him around to face him.

"What the hell did you do to her?" Sunghoon’s voice was low, tight with anger. "What did you give her?"

Injang, looking completely unfazed, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “What? I didn’t do anything to her,” he said, his voice laced with a mocking sweetness. “She’s just drunk, man. Chill out.”

Sunghoon’s grip tightened and he pulled him closer. “Don’t fucking lie to me,” he hissed. “I saw how you were with her. She’s not just drunk. You drugged her.”

Injang’s smirk only grew wider, and he shrugged nonchalantly. “You know, she’s a shy little thing, right? Pretty cute, too. I thought it’d be funny. Nothing too serious.” He leaned in a nasty gleam in his eyes. “It wasn’t like I wanted to rape her, dude. Just a little fun. You know, loosen her up a bit. She is just a lightweight I guess.”

Sunghoon felt his stomach twist in disgust. His vision blurred with anger. "You think this is funny?" he growled, stepping closer, his voice dangerously calm. "You think what you did is some sort of joke?"

Injang scoffed, clearly unfazed by Sunghoon's fury. "Relax, man. She’s just a little buzzed. Nothing serious happened." His tone was dismissive as if he was still trying to downplay the situation as some harmless prank.

Sunghoon's chest tightened with rage. "Nothing serious happened? She is unconscious!”

Injang's smirk faltered for a moment, but he quickly recovered, shrugging nonchalantly. "Whatever, man. Don’t be so dramatic. It was just a little harmless fun–"

He was stammering, trying to back away from Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon, stop!” Hyunjin’s voice reached him just in time before he could shove his fist into Injangs face.

Sunghoon turned to see Hyunjin standing behind him, holding his arms up in a way that was meant to stop him. 

“What the fuck are you doing, Hyunjin?” Sunghoon snapped, furious at him for getting in the way. “This shithead drugged Y/N.”

“Sunghoon, listen to me,” Hyunjin said, stepping closer. “If you hit him, it’s going to fuck up your chances for the Olympics. Let the police handle this. You have enough evidence that will get him into trouble.”

Sunghoon stared at Hyunjin, his hands trembling with the urge to knock Injang’s teeth out. His entire body was on fire, adrenaline pumping through his veins. But Hyunjin was right. As much as Sunghoon hated it, he was right.

He clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around nothing as he reluctantly let go of Injang. “You’re lucky I’m listening to him,” Sunghoon muttered, his voice barely controlled.

Injang took a step back, his face pale and sweaty now.

The sound of sirens grew louder in the background, and Sunghoon pushed past Hyunjin to get back to you.

Sunoo was still kneeling beside you, looking helpless, his hands hovering over your body as if trying to figure out what he could do to help

Sunghoon crouched down next to you, watching as your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths. ──────────────────────── Sunghoon sat in the back of the taxi, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles turned white. His mind was still racing, his pulse hammering in his ears as the city lights blurred past the window. His body moved on autopilot as the taxi finally pulled up in front of the hospital. He couldn't get the image of you collapsing out of his head the way you crumpled to the floor, lifeless in his arms. He insisted on coming to the hospital but wanted Sunoo to be with you in the ambulance, just in case you woke up. The chances were low but he didn’t want you to be with him. You barely knew each other. Heeseung asked him if he should come along, Jake and Jay also tried but those two already drank too much to survive a car ride without throwing up. He declined Heeseungs offer, Sunoo would be there and Mark would also be there. Sunoo called him the second you had been securely lying in the ambulance.

He barely remembered paying the driver before rushing inside, the sterile scent of antiseptic and bright fluorescent lights making his head pound. He wasn’t as sober as he wished he would be. 

The waiting area was quiet except for the distant beeping of machines and the occasional murmur of nurses. It didn't take much of an effort to find Sunoo.

He was curled up in one of the plastic chairs, elbows resting on his knees, face buried in his hands. His shoulders were hunched, and when he looked up at Sunghoon, his eyes were bloodshot.

Sunghoon hesitated before stepping closer. "Any news?"

Sunoo shook his head, wiping at his face with his sleeve. His voice was hoarse. "She's stable, but she's not awake. They-they said it's GHB." His breath hitched slightly. "It's gonna take time for it to wear off."

Sunghoon felt his stomach twist. Before he could say anything else, the doors to the waiting room swung open, and Mark rushed in, looking like he had just thrown on the first clothes he could find. His hoodie was inside out, and his sweatpants were wrinkled like he had just rolled out of bed, which made sense, it was nearly 2 AM.

Mark's eyes immediately found Sunghoon's. "Where is she?"

Sunghoon gestured toward the hallway leading to the ICU. "They're still monitoring her."

Mark let out a shaky breath, rubbing a hand over his face before sitting heavily in the chair next to Sunoo.

Mark's voice was shaky when he asked, "What happened?"

Sunghoon took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before he spoke. "Y/N fainted. The doctors say she's stable now, but she's still unconscious. She's been drugged. They found GHB in her system."

Mark let out a soft, guttural sound of disbelief, his hands gripping the armrests of the chair as he processed the words. His face was a mask of shock, confusion, and rage all mixed together. "She was drugged?" Mark repeated, his voice cracking slightly. "Who the hell would do something like this?"

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, the memory of Injang's smug face flashing in his mind. "Some asshole at the party. I confronted him before the cops came. He acted like it was funny." His fists tightened.

Mark lifted his head, his face eerily blank. "What's his name?" 

Sunghoon hesitated. "Mark-"

"What's his name, Sunghoon?" Mark repeated, his voice sharper now.

Sunghoon exhaled, shaking his head. "Doesn't matter. The police took him in."

Mark's expression was unreadable, but before he could press further a nurse came up to them.

"Mr. Lee?", she asked as she approached them.

"Yes.", Mark stood up immediately.

"Y/N is stable," she said gently. "We've been monitoring her closely, and her vitals are steady. She hasn't woken up yet, but we'll continue to keep a close eye on her. Lucky the dose she digested was small and she ate something before going to the party."

"Can we go in and see her?"

The nurse hesitated, then nodded. "You can, but please be as quiet as possible. She's still unconscious, and we don't want to overwhelm her."

They followed her down the hospital corridors, the sterile smell of disinfectant in the air.

The nurse carefully opened the door to your room. You were lying motionless in the bed, your face pale beneath the hospital sheets and an oxygen mask was resting gently over your nose. The soft beeping of the machines filled the room.

Mark seemed at a loss for words, as he walked to your bed and gently took your hand into his hand. “She is going to be alright, right?”, he whispered.

“Definitely.”, the nurse nodded, “She might be confused and shocked when she wakes up and may experience side effects of the antidote, but she will be alright.”

Mark slightly nodded his head and caressed your hand. "I grabbed a T-shirt and some joggers. I thought... I thought she might want something comfortable when she wakes up."

Sunghoon glanced over at the bag Mark had brought and hummed slightly. 

“That’s really nice of you. We handed her clothing to the police, so they can take it in for evidence collection.”, the nurse smiled at Mark. “You can stay in here for a while, just please don’t try to wake her up.”

The three men nodded and Sunghoon watched the woman leave the small room. Sunoo signed and pulled one chair closer to your bed. Mark sat down next to you on the bed while Sunghoon stayed at the end of your bed. He felt weird and guilty, for being here, for his friends asking you to come, for him to not pay more attention. 

There was a long silence before Sunoo sniffled.  "I don't know what happened, Mark. She was fine. We were just hanging out, talking to some of the baseball guys I know and then she….. she just collapsed. I shouldn’t have let her drink something we didn’t watch being made. But he brought everyone a cup."

Mark shook his head, he was still carefully holding your hand, petting its backside. "It's okay Sunoo, it's not your fault that this happened." 

Thick silence filled the room again. Sunoo occasionally reached out to adjust the blankets around you, his eyes never leaving your face. It was as if no one could speak of what was actually happening, so they stayed silent instead.

Sunghoon had never felt so helpless in his life. He kept glancing at you, watching the shallow rise and fall of your chest. Every time the beeping of the monitor shifted, his heart skipped a beat, thinking for a second that something had changed. He also couldn’t imagine being in Mark's position. If Yeji was laying here, pale and motionless –drugged– his whole world would end. 

Minutes turned to hours, and yet, nothing changed. The night dragged on, and the three of them sat, waiting, watching, doing nothing but hope. Neither of them left your side. The hospital staff came in and out, checking your vitals, assuring them that you would wake up, your body just needed time. There was nothing to do but wait. ──────────────────────── Darkness.

That was the first thing you registered. Heavy, suffocating darkness clung to you like a thick fog, making it impossible to think, impossible to move. Your body felt foreign—like it wasn’t yours at all. Your limbs felt sluggish and your head was pounding.

Then came the sound. Distant at first, like you were hearing everything from underwater. A rhythmic beeping. The faint hum of voices. Someone shifting beside you.

You tried to move, but your body refused to cooperate. Your fingers twitched slightly against the sheets and a noise escaped your lips.

The beeping grew louder. The voices became clearer.

“…think she’s waking up.”

A hand brushed against yours, hesitant and warm.

“Y/N?”

You forced your eyes open, but the brightness was overwhelming. A sharp, stabbing pain shot through your skull, and you let out a quiet whimper, squeezing them shut again.

“She needs a doctor—someone get a nurse!”, a voice said, more urgent this time.

Footsteps hurried away.

You tried again, forcing your lashes to flutter open. The light was still too much, but this time, your vision wasn’t completely useless. Shapes. Shadows. A blurry figure leaning over you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” someone murmured, their tone softer now.

You blinked a few times, and slowly, painfully, the world started to come into focus.

Sunoo.

His eyes were red-rimmed, dark circles beneath them like he hadn’t slept in days. His fingers were trembling against your hand.

Behind him, other figures began to materialize.

Mark? Sunghoon?

Your sluggish mind tried to piece things together, but it felt like you were missing something. Everything was hazy. The last thing you remembered was the party. The bright lights, the pounding music, the way your head had started to spin. And then… nothing. Just a void.

Your throat felt raw when you tried to speak. “Wha—?”

“Don’t talk yet,” Mark cut in quickly, leaning forward. His hair was messy, and he looked like he had been dragged out of bed. “You’re in the hospital.”

Hospital?

Your fingers twitched again, trying to push yourself up, but your body didn’t cooperate. Everything was too heavy.

You swallowed, forcing the words out. “What… happened?”

Sunoo squeezed your hand. His lips parted, but for a second, he hesitated, like he didn’t know how to say it.

Sunghoon was the one who finally answered. His voice was low, careful. “You were drugged.”

Drugged?

Your eyes darted between them, searching their faces for some kind of explanation, some kind of reassurance that this was a misunderstanding, that they were wrong.

But Mark’s jaw was clenched. Sunoo’s fingers were still shaking and Sunghoon’s face was unreadable.

A cold sensation washed over you, creeping up your spine.

Drugged.

Your stomach twisted violently.

A shuffle at the doorway made you turn your head slightly. A nurse had entered, a clipboard in hand,

“Y/N,” she said with a small smile, stepping closer to check the monitor beside your bed. “How are you feeling?”

You opened your mouth, but for a moment, no words came out. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even know what you felt.

“…Heavy,” you managed weakly. “Tired.”

The nurse hummed in understanding. “That’s normal. The drug is still leaving your system, but your vitals are stable. Do you remember anything?”

Your mind scrambled for an answer, but there was nothing. Just fragments.

“I…” Your throat tightened. “Not really.”

She nodded, scribbling something onto the clipboard. “That’s expected. Your body reacted well to the fluids, and the tests showed a relatively low dose, but it’s still disorienting.” Her eyes softened slightly. "I will bring you something to drink and then we will have to draw a bit of blood to send to the lab again."

You just nodded and watched her leave the room.

Mark leaned forward, his hands clasped together. “You scared the hell out of us.” His voice cracked slightly. “I thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Sunoo was silent, but his hand trembled against yours. When you turned to look at him, you saw that his bottom lip was pressed tightly together, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

Then, quietly, almost too softly to hear, he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Your chest ached at the way his voice broke.

“I shouldn’t have convinced you to go,” he continued, his fingers tightening around yours. “You didn’t even want to. I–I wasn’t paying attention. I should’ve been watching out for you. I should’ve–”

“Sunoo,” you cut him off, your voice was still hoarse and talking was uncomfortable. “No.”

He shook his head. “But–”

“No,” you said again, stronger this time. “This wasn’t your fault.”

Sunoo let out a sharp breath, looking down at your joined hands. A tear slipped down his cheek, and he wiped it away hastily.

“If anything, I shouldn’t have just taken a drink from someone I didn’t know.” You tried to give him a small smile. “That was stupid of me.”

Mark tensed. “Don’t do that.”

You frowned. “Do what?”

“Blame yourself.” His voice was firm. “You shouldn’t have to watch your drink like a hawk just to be safe. This isn’t on you.”

At the foot of the bed, Sunghoon, who had been mostly silent, finally spoke up. “Mark’s right.” His hands were clasping the end of your bed. “If anyone’s at fault, it’s that bastard who did this to you. Not you. Not Sunoo.” He exhaled heavily. “I wish I could’ve hit that asshole.”

You blinked at him, a little surprised at the sudden shift in his tone. 

Mark exhaled, shaking his head. “You’re gonna have to call Mom and Dad,” he murmured.

Your stomach dropped. He told your parents? Your mom must be worried sick right now. They never admitted it but your parents were always a lot more careful with you, compared to your brothers.

Mark must have seen the way your face fell because he quickly added, “You don’t have to do it right now. Just… at some point.”

You nodded numbly.

Sunghoon shifted slightly, the rings on his fingers clicking against the metal of the bed. “We already gave our statements to the police,” he told you. “But they’ll want to talk to you too.”

You swallowed hard. You didn’t even know what to tell them. Whatever happened at the party was gone. You could barely remember getting there, so what were you supposed to tell the police? 

Mark hesitated before speaking again. “The guy who did it… Injang. The police took him in.”

You tried to put a face to that name. Sunoo sniffled quietly beside you, his head bowed.

You squeezed his hand, again and tried to ignore the overwhelming wave of emotions that threatened to crash over you. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone right now.

Mark sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You should get some more sleep. I’ll wake you when the nurse returns,” he murmured.

You weren’t sure if you could sleep, not with your heart still hammering in your chest, but you nodded anyway. ──────────────────────── The rest of the day passed in a blur.

The hospital staff checked in on you frequently, making sure you were eating, and drinking, and that the drug was fully leaving your system. Your body still felt sluggish, like moving through water, and your head pounded in a dull, persistent ache. It really did feel like the worst hangover of your life, except this time, you hadn’t even earned it.

By the time the evening rolled around, you were discharged with strict instructions to rest, stay hydrated, and come back if anything felt off. Mark refused to let you go home alone.

So Mark, Sunghoon, who was weirdly invested in “Tomorrow” and you settled into the couch in your living room, the TV casting a soft glow across the dimly lit living room. Mark had insisted on watching the episodes you missed, hoping it would distract you, but honestly, you could barely focus.

Your whole body still felt off. Heavy. Sluggish. Every movement required double the effort. It felt like there was a fog over everything, making it impossible to think too hard or even process what had happened.

So you just… sat there. Curled up in the corner of the couch, wrapped in the blanket Mark had thrown over you the second you walked into the apartment. Your body felt hot and cold at the same time. The AC was still running so the apartment was not as uncomfortably hot as the air outside, but somehow the cold didn’t feel comfortable either. 

Mark and Sunghoon were having way too much fun making fun of the show.

“Why does he run like that?” Sunghoon snorted.

Mark shook his head dramatically. “Man’s fighting for his life, and you’re worried about his running form?”

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t be scared if someone chased me like that.”

Mark let out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh my god he is such an idiot. Look at him! He had one job, and now–yep. Yep. He’s dead.”

Sunghoon shook his head. “Deserved.”

Mark turned to you, expectantly. “Right, Y/N?”

You blinked slowly, trying to focus on their conversation. “Huh?”

Mark’s teasing expression faltered slightly. His eyes softened. “Never mind,” he said gently. “You tired?”

You nodded, barely holding back a yawn.

Mark reached for the remote, lowering the volume. “You should sleep. You’ve had a long day.”

You were about to agree, but when you tried to move, your entire body protested. Even sitting up felt like too much effort. You groaned softly, dropping your head back onto the couch. “I wanna continue watching. I’ll go to bed after the episode.”

Mark hummed in agreement and turned back to the TV.

Somewhere in the middle of the episode, your body gave in to exhaustion.

You woke up in the middle of the night. It took you a moment to realize you were curled into Mark’s side, your head resting against his chest. His arm was draped over you protectively, his slow, steady breathing the only sound in the quiet room. You adjusted slightly and closed your eyes again.  ──────────────────────── The apartment was quiet. 

Sunghoon stood in the kitchen, rolling his shoulders back as he stared at the half-chopped apple sitting on the cutting board in front of him. His eyes kept flicking toward the living room, where you were curled up on the couch, asleep. Again. 

Mark had left a few hours ago, only after making you swear you would be okay. He assured you and Sunghoon that he’d be back in seconds if he was needed.

Now, it was just the two of you. 

Sunghoon knew that you wouldn’t be on top of your game 24 hours after being drugged, but it was weird seeing you do nothing all day long. You called in sick at work for your shift in the cinema for today, so all you did today was try to rewatch the episode of “Tomorrow” Mark and Sunghoon watched with you yesterday. Or well watched without you. You fell asleep not even 30 minutes in. The same thing happened today. 

During lunch, you only ate a few spoonfuls of rice so you could eat your medications, painkillers and pills that suppressed the nausea. So now he was cutting up some fruit for you. He neatly arranged a banana, a few pieces of apple, mango and some grapes before setting the plate down on the coffee table. Maybe you felt like eating a bit when you woke up and the meds had kicked in.

When he came to the kitchen a few hours later he saw the plate of fruit standing next to the sink. Untouched.

Sunghoon frowned, stepping closer. He had expected at least a few pieces to be gone. Maybe you just weren’t hungry? Or still nauseous? There were a few crumbs on the kitchen counter and when he opened the dishwasher he emptied before he saw a plate. So you did eat something. Maybe you just didn’t feel like fruit? 

He placed the fruit in one of the containers he usually used for his lunch preps and wrote you a small note to eat some of the fruit when you woke up again. He had training in the morning and didn’t know when you would wake up, but wanted to make sure you ate something in the morning. The nurse told the men that you should eat a bit more. Not only because you were drugged, but because you were in the lower BMI regions and you had to pay attention that it wouldn’t get worse. Marks face fell when he heard that. He told Sunghoon to please keep an eye on your eating behaviour.  ──────────────────────── You jerked awake around midnight. 

You left your blinds open when you went to bed a few hours ago, not because you wanted to but because you simply forgot. 

You never forget to close your blinds. 

The light from the street lamps outside always made your sleep restless, so you closed the blinds. 

Everyday, after you finish your night routine. 

Today you barely had the energy to brush your teeth and wash your face before falling into bed. 

You blinked slowly and took a deep breath in. The air in your room felt stuffy and hot. When you slowly sat up the world was spinning for a second before you could stand up. Your stomach was growling and your throat felt dry so you slowly and carefully made your way into the kitchen. Maybe Sunghoon put some of the fruit he cut up for you into the fridge. You tried to eat some when you woke up from your nap earlier but just the thought of eating made you nauseous. The rice you ate for lunch was lying heavily in your stomach. 

The nurse said that the nausea was normal and would probably take a few days to subside. She advised you to stick to plain food, that was easy to digest, so you ate a piece of toast with butter for dinner, after you cut it into small bite-size pieces.  

You made your way into the kitchen, careful to be as quiet as possible, to not wake Sunghoon. When you opened the fridge you had to squeeze your eyes closed again. The light coming from it made a sharp, stabbing pain shot through your skull again. Similar to the one in the hospital when you first woke up. You closed the door again and leaned against the kitchen counter. 

On Friday, before you went to the party you planned on changing the water of your chrysanthemums, so the flowers were standing on the counter instead of the window sill. You reached for the vase to push it further back. Your fingers barely brushed against its smooth surface before it tipped over. It teetered for a split second, the world seeming to slow before it crashed onto the floor. The sound was deafening—glass shattering, water splashing, and the dull thud of the flowers hitting the tile. No. No. No.

It startled you and your heart started racing, pounding violently against your ribcage. The walls of the kitchen suddenly seemed to close in around you, and a heavy weight pressed down on your chest, making each breath feel laborious like there was not enough air to fill your lungs. You gasped, but the air felt thick, suffocating, and each breath was a struggle. Suddenly everything felt too much. The low humming of the fridge, the shouting from the streets, the light coming from the fridge. 

You looked down at the mess on the floor.

The kitchen started spinning slowly, the edges of your vision blurring as your head grew lighter with every passing second. The shards of what once was your favourite vase shimmered in and out of focus. Their jagged edges distorted before your eyes, and your stomach twisted into knots.

You crouched down and hovered your fingers over the sharp edges, but your body felt disconnected like you were trapped in a haze. Then, through the haze, you heard hurried footsteps.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s voice cut through the static in your ears, but it sounded far away, distorted like he was speaking through a tunnel.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Sunghoon asked when you didn't respond.

You opened your mouth to tell him you were fine, that you just knocked over the vase, but the words got stuck in your throat. You could only stare at the mess in front of you, your fingers twitching as you tried to piece together the fragments of the vase.

Sunghoon kneeled down beside you. “Hey–hey! Stop! You’re going to hurt yourself!” His voice was urgent but soft. He reached to stop you from touching the glass, but the moment his hand got too close, you flinched violently. You didn’t know why, but the thought of him, or anyone touching you, made your breathing come even faster. It came in rapid, choked gasps, your chest rising and falling too quickly.

"I can't—" You tried to tell him you couldn’t breathe, that something was happening, but you couldn’t push out more than those two words. Why couldn’t you breathe? What was going on?

Sunghoon cursed under his breath. “Y/N, you have to breathe,” he pleaded, but his voice barely reached you over the deafening static in your head. He didn’t reach out again, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you were thankful for that.

Then, suddenly, your body gave out. Your knees buckled, and the room tilted violently as you started to fall.

Before you hit the floor, Sunghoon caught you.

“Let’s sit down,” he said firmly, and without waiting for a response, he gently guided you to the floor, settling you against the cool tiles. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on his voice. But the moment you sat, your body betrayed you, and the weight of, what you assumed was panic crashed down even harder. 

You were having a panic attack. 

Each breath became a desperate gasp, your chest constricting painfully as you tried to pull air into your lungs. The shadows in the corners of the kitchen deepened, and the static in your ears rose to a deafening roar. It felt like you were drowning.

“Y/N!” Sunghoon’s voice was muffled and distant like he was speaking from underwater. 

He shifted closer, concern etched deeply in his features, but you couldn’t focus on his face. Desperation rose within you as you gripped your knees, your nails digging into your skin as if that might calm you, but it didn’t help. All you heard was the pounding of your heart, drowning out everything else.

“Y/N! Look at me! Just breathe!” He tried again, his voice steady and calm.

You gasped, your voice shaking, “I can’t... I can’t...”

Sobs clawed their way up your throat, but you swallowed them back down, your body trembling with effort.

His arms wrapped around you, strong and steady, holding you up as your body shook uncontrollably. He didn’t let go—not even when you flinched again, your entire body tense as if expecting a blow. You didn’t understand why this was happening, why you were panicking, why the thought of Sunghoon touching you made it even worse.

“Shh, I got you,” he murmured, “Just breathe.”

But you couldn’t. The air wouldn’t reach your lungs, no matter how hard you tried.

Sunghoon adjusted his hold, carefully guiding you to sit on the floor against the cabinets. He moved quickly but gently, his grip firm enough to keep you from collapsing completely. 

He grabbed your shaking hand and pressed it against his chest.

“Feel that?” His voice was very soft now. “That’s my heartbeat. Focus on it, okay?”

Your fingers twitched against the fabric of his shirt, feeling the rhythmic thump beneath your palm. It was strong, steady. You closed your eyes, trying to concentrate on the sensation of his heartbeat and the warmth radiating from him.

“Inhale,” he instructed gently, his own breath deepening as he demonstrated. You could feel his chest expand beneath your hand, and you tried to mirror him, drawing in a shaky breath as you followed his lead.

“Hold it for a second... and exhale,” he guided you, releasing his breath slowly.

You tried. You really tried. Your breath stuttered, but you forced yourself to follow his lead, mirroring the slow, controlled rise and fall of his breathing.

“That’s it,” he murmured, his hand covering yours. “Just keep doing that. Inhale... hold... exhale. You’re doing great...”

It took time. Minutes passed in a blur of shaky inhales and uneven exhales. Your body still trembled, but slowly the weight on your chest began to ease. The static in your mind started to fade and got replaced by the steady rhythm of Sunghoons breath, his heartbeat.

Sunghoon didn’t rush you. He didn’t let go. He just stayed there, guiding you through each breath.

Eventually, your breathing evened out. Your fingers relaxed against his chest, no longer curled into fists. The dizziness ebbed, leaving only exhaustion in its wake.

“Just like that,” he whispered, offering you the faintest smile.

You swallowed hard, nodding slightly. You didn’t understand what had just happened. Why had you had a panic attack over knocking over a vase? Yes, you liked it, but why hadn’t you been able to breathe just seconds ago? Why had Sunghoon had to catch you again?

You leaned against Sunghoon, your head resting on his shoulder, closing your eyes. Your body felt so heavy.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he glanced down at you.

“Yeah,” you breathed, your eyes closed.

You barely had the strength to lift your head, let alone stand up. Every muscle in your body felt drained as if the panic attack had stolen the rest of your energy in the blink of an eye. 

Sunghoon glanced down at you, concern still evident on his face. "Y/N, should we call the hospital? Or at least Mark?" His voice was gentle.

You shook your head weakly, which took embarrassingly much effort. "No, I–I– don’t call Mark. I just need to rest. I’ll be fine."

He hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing as he took in your condition. He didn’t argue, but the concern in his eyes remained. He nodded softly, looking around, as if trying to figure out what would help you.

"I don’t want to be alone," you muttered, barely above a whisper, the words slipping out before you could stop them. The thought of being alone in your bed was unbearable. 

Sunghoon’s gaze softened. "Do you want me to stay with you?" 

You just nodded and looked up at him, your exhaustion and anxiety still clinging to you, making it hard to even form coherent thoughts. 

He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, I’ll stay with you. Let’s get you to bed first."

Sunghoon helped you up slowly, his arms steady around you as you leaned against him for support. Your legs felt wobbly like they might give out at any moment. Together, you made your way to your room.

Once inside, Sunghoon guided you to the bed, helping you lie down as carefully as he could. You curled up into the blankets. The weight of exhaustion hit you all at once, and all you wanted to do was close your eyes and escape into sleep.

Sunghoon climbed in beside you, his movements slow and gentle. He settled beside you, making sure to give you space but still close enough to offer comfort. You felt him move, his hand lightly brushing your hair as he began to softly caress it, a soothing motion that calmed you more than you expected.

"Just relax," he whispered, his voice soft as he ran his fingers through your hair. "I’m here. You’re safe."

With each gentle stroke of his hand, your breath steadied. You felt your body relax, the tension in your muscles easing, until you were almost asleep. Before you completely drifted off, you managed to whisper a quiet  "Thank you". ──────────────────────── The warmth against Sunghoon’s side was the first thing he registered when he stirred awake. The second thing was the damp stickiness of sweat clinging to his skin. You were still curled up against him, your body radiating heat beneath the covers, your breathing uneven. Even in sleep, you were restless.

His eyes flickered open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains. He blinked sluggishly, his mind still foggy with sleep. He needed a second to remember where he was.

He was in your bed.

His body stiffened slightly. You had a panic attack. A rather bad one he’d say. He wasn't particularly an expert but he had seen a fair share of people having panic attacks before. Afterall he was doing a sport on a level where it wasn't just a hobby anymore. Sometimes the pressure and stress are just too much and people crack.

His body tensed slightly as he thought of yesterday night. The sound of the vase shattering, the way he had bolted into the kitchen, heart hammering in his chest because, for a split second, he had thought someone had broken in. But then he had seen you. On the floor, hyperventilating, flinching away from him like he was a threat. The way you had nearly collapsed in his arms, too overwhelmed to even breathe properly.

You had been terrified last night. Completely overwhelmed. He hadn’t known what to do, so he just stayed. Let you rest, let you find comfort in his presence, because if that was what you needed, then fine. Sunghoon wasn’t great at emotions, but he could do this. He could be here.

After all, wasn’t it kind of his fault that you had been drugged in the first place?

A dull pang of guilt settled in his chest at the thought. If he had just been more careful if he had noticed sooner—if, if, if. It was too late to change anything, but it didn’t stop the thought from lingering.

Sunghoon swallowed, his jaw tightening. He glanced down at you, still tucked close against him. Even now, your brows were slightly furrowed, your fingers twitching every now and then like you were stuck in a restless dream. His grip on the blanket tightened slightly.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

He had never been great at this, comforting someone emotionally. He could be there physically, he could hold you, keep you safe, but saying the right words? Making sure you actually felt better? He didn’t know if he was capable of that.

He sighed quietly, shifting slightly to ease the discomfort of his sweaty shirt clinging to his back. The movement must have disturbed you because, after a moment, he saw you stir, your breath hitching slightly as you blinked yourself awake.

Immediately, you tensed. He felt it—the way your body stiffened, the way your breathing changed

Slowly, you pulled away from him, avoiding his gaze as you sat up.

“Uh… morning,” you murmured, your voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

Sunghoon sat up too, studying you carefully. You looked exhausted, of course you did. After everything that had happened, it wasn’t like one night of sleep would magically fix it

You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “Um… thanks. For last night. I–”, you hesitated, eyes darting to the covers. “I don’t know what happened. It was just a vase, I don’t know why I–”

You cut yourself off, shaking your head like you didn’t even know how to explain it.

Sunghoon frowned. You shouldn’t have to explain yourself right now, it wasn’t like you planned on having a panic attack.

“You okay?” he asked, instead.

You hesitated before nodding, but it wasn’t exactly convincing.

He exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. He wanted to ask more. Wanted to tell you that you didn’t have to act like everything was fine, but he wasn’t sure how to say it without making things worse.

"You sure?” he pressed.

You swallowed. “I mean… I don’t know. I just feel… off.”

Yeah. That made sense.

Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek, watching you carefully. You weren’t crying, but you still looked so lost in your own head, your eyes unfocused like you were somewhere else entirely.

He hated it.

Sunghoon exhaled, rubbing the back of his head. He had no idea how to comfort you emotionally, but he could at least make sure you weren’t alone.

“…Are you gonna be okay alone today?” he finally asked, watching your reaction closely.

You hesitated again, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “…I don’t know.”

Sunghoon nodded, already making a decision before you even had to say anything else.

“Come with me,” he said simply.

You blinked up at him, surprised. “Huh?”

“To training. You can sit in the bleachers or whatever,” he shrugged, standing up to stretch. “You don’t have to be alone.”

You opened your mouth like you wanted to protest, but after a moment, you shut it again, your expression softening slightly.

“…Okay.”

Sunghoon gave a small nod before grabbing his phone off the nightstand. “Cool. Get ready, we’ll head out soon.”

As he walked toward the bathroom, he glanced back at you, still sitting on the bed, staring at your hands. ──────────────────────── You sat in the bleachers, wrapped in the thickest hoodie you could find, your arms resting on your lap as you watched the skaters glide effortlessly across the ice. The cold from the rink seeped into your bones, but you didn’t really mind. It was better than the midday heat outside. 

When you and Sunghoon arrived at the rink the air was hot and humid and you were glad to escape the weather for a few hours. You've been at the rink for a while now watching Sunghoon and his teammates skate through various choreographies. Alone, in pairs, alone again. His coach seemed to be quite strict, making them run through the same part multiple times.

You had never seen Sunghoon skate before. Not in person.

You had known he was good, obviously. He was literally training for the Olympics. But knowing something and seeing it with your own eyes were two very different things.

He moved across the ice like he was made for it, every motion smooth and deliberate, like gravity didn’t affect him the way it did everyone else. His long limbs should have made him look awkward, but instead, they made everything he did look even more refined—effortless.

It was mesmerizing.

And it wasn’t just him.

The other skaters–especially the female ones–floated across the rink with that same elegance, their bodies cutting through the ice with practised ease. They were beautiful and so graceful.

Your mind still felt slow, like it was moving through water. Everything around you felt a bit...distant. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t comfortable either. Just… off. Like you were here, but not fully.

Having a full-blown panic attack in front of your hot roommate and asking him to more or less act like a gigant plushie in your bed, so you could sleep may contribute to that feeling. And the fact that it felt wrong to sit here. You should be in the office right now. It was Monday after all, but the hospital sent your doctor’s note to your workplace, excusing you until the weekend, so you could recover from the GHB properly. The doctors were quite worried when you left, that you might still be affected by the drug. Which, honestly, you were. So maybe it was good you didn't go to work, but at the same time would you have appreciated a bit of a distraction?

You pulled your knees up slightly, resting your chin against them as you watched Sunghoon land a jump perfectly, the ice slicing beneath his blade.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, just watching. But you were grateful that, at least for now, you didn’t have to do anything else.

At one point you felt bored so you pulled your sketchbook from your bag, flipping to an empty page as you settled back against the cool bleachers.

Your fingers gripped the pencil lightly, gliding it over the paper in slow, careful strokes. The ice skaters still moved gracefully across the rink, but now, instead of watching them with awe, you focused on capturing their movements with lines and shading.

Sunghoon was still the easiest to spot, his tall frame making him stand out among the others. You tried to sketch the way his body tilted ever so slightly before he leapt into the air. It was frustrating, trying to capture something so fluid, but it gave your mind something to focus on other than the lingering exhaustion weighing down your limbs.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, but eventually, a small shiver ran through you.

The cold had crept up on you gradually, settling in your fingers and arms before you even realized it. You rubbed your hands together, tucking them into the sleeves of your hoodie before glancing down at your phone. Sunghoon was still practising, but you didn’t want to sit in the rink any longer.

Y/N: Hey, I’m gonna go outside. It’s getting kinda cold.

You packed up your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder as you made your way out of the building. The warmth of the summer air hit you instantly, a stark contrast to the coolness of the rink. You let out a slow breath, feeling the tension ease from your shoulders as you stepped into the shade of a tree just outside the entrance.

You sank onto the grass, reopening your sketchbook.

Here, in the quiet, it was easier to draw.

Your pencil moved fluidly, shading in the folds of Sunghoon’s training jacket, the angle of his arms mid-spin. The longer you sketched, the more the world around you faded into the background.

You didn't even realize how much time went by when you heard footsteps approaching.

You straightened up, seeing Sunghoon walking toward you, his tall figure framed against the bright afternoon sky.

“You didn’t have to wait out here. You could have gone home,” he said with a small smile, though there was something in his eyes that made it seem like he was still concerned about you.

“It’s fine,” you replied quietly, standing up and stretching out your legs. “I didn’t feel like going back inside and here I could enjoy the sun a bit.”

He didn’t say anything to that, but you noticed his eyes flicker toward your sketchbook.

“Did you paint something?”

You glanced down at the book in your hands, feeling a bit self-conscious. “Just… some sketches of you and the other ice skaters..”

Sunghoon tilted his head, walking a little closer. “Can I see?”

You hesitated, but then you opened it to the page with a sketch of him. The lines were still rough, not nearly as clean or as elegant as his movements on the ice, but it was the best you could do.

He smiled slightly when he saw the drawing. “Is that me?”

“Yeah.” You closed the sketchbook quickly, feeling suddenly awkward. “You looked really...elegant? I don't know how to describe it but I wanted to capture that. I also painted your friends. The one with the long hair. She is really beautiful.”

"Wonyoung?", Sunghoon asked and flopped down onto the grass next to you. "She is really pretty. And really talented. If she doesn't get into the Olympics team I don't know who will."

You collected your pencils that you spread onto the hoodie you layed beside you. "Do you think you will get in?"

Sunghoon let out a humourless laugh. "I am doing my best, but I am not sure. Honestly, at the moment it feels like I am stuck somehow. No matter what I do it feels like I am getting worse instead of better."

"Oh.", you said softly, "Sometimes the universe just has different plans for us. You still have other cool opportunities but the Olympics, right? I imagine taking part in the Olympics is quite hard on your body and psyche?"

Sunghoon hummed. "Yeah. And if nothing works out I'll just coach or something. I don't know. My degree offers me so many various career paths. I am sure I'll find something I like."

You nodded, "Mine really doesn't. Oh well, it does, maybe not as many as yours but I kinda am planning in specialising in Architectural History and Classical Design, which won't get me far here in Korea, so I kind of have to think of going in a different direction."

"Why not go to Europe or the States? You like that kind of architecture, right?", Sunghoon asked.

You looked at him confused. How did he know that? "I-uhm- yeah, I do. But I would hate to live far from my parents and my brothers. Seoul is already too far. I want to go to Busan. To you know, live and build my life there."

"Oh really? I love Busan. It's very pretty. I've been there with my family once or twice.", Sunghoon said.

"It is.", you smiled at him.

Before you could say anything else, you were interrupted by a female voice: "Honnie?"

The girl with the long hair, Wonyoung?, was walking towards the tree you and Sunghoon were leaning against.

"I thought you left to go home?", she said and then turned to you. "Oh hi. You must be Y/N I am Wonyoung."

You cleared your throat and looked up at her. She was quite tall. "Ah yeah. Hi Wonyong."

"I heard what happened at the party on Friday," she said and shook her head. "I knew Injang is a Idiot but I would have never guessed that he would drug people for fun. Are you feeling better?"

You stiffened slightly, caught off guard by the question. Your fingers curled around the edges of your sketchbook, gripping it just a little too tightly.

“I…” You hesitated, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t entirely true, but what else were you supposed to say?

"I am glad." Wonyoung's expression softened as she looked at you.

“Yeah,” you murmured, shifting on your feet. “Me too.”

The conversation lapsed into silence for a moment. You felt awkward, unsure of what to say, but Wonyoung quickly changed the subject, turning to Sunghoon.

“Are you heading back to your place now?” she asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Y/N and I were planning on cooking together tonight.”

Oh? Were you?

“Alright,” Wonyoung said. “We’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She gave you a small wave before walking off, leaving you alone with Sunghoon.

You exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “She is nice.”

“She is,” he said simply. Then, after a pause, he glanced down at you. “Ready to go?”

You nodded, falling into step beside him as you both headed toward the bus station. ──────────────────────── Sunghoon and you didn't really plan on cooking together. Sunghoon just had an oddly specific craving for dinner.

“I really want dakgalbi,” he said as you walked side by side toward the bus stop. “There’s this place I love, but you have to order for at least two people. So if you're up for it, I would order for the both of us?”

You blinked up at him. "I-sure. I would love to eat some dakgalbi."

Eating with Sunghoon was… nice.

You had fallen into an easy routine with him over the past few weeks. Sometimes one of you would cook a meal with two portions so you would eat together, but most of the time you both ate different meals, his playlist would softly play in the background and you would be talking about anything and everything. It had all started feeling strangely comfortable. You liked coming home to him being at home already. He preferred to lounge on the sofa in the living room, instead of his room and you enjoyed the natural lighting of the kitchen more than the artificial one in your room so the two of you were often in the same room, doing your own thing. 

The smell of spicy stir-fried chicken filled the apartment as you both settled on the floor, in front of the TV, the takeout container placed between you on the small sofa table. The heat from the dish rose in soft waves, making your mouth water despite the lingering unease in your stomach.

Sunghoon dug in immediately, scooping up a generous bite of chicken and rice, his playlist playing softly in the background. You took your first bite. It was delicious, and at first, you thought you’d be fine.

But a few bites in, your stomach twisted uncomfortably. The spice lingered longer than usual, settling in your gut, and you swallowed quickly, taking a sip of water to cool your mouth. You tried eating a little more, but by the time you reached your fourth bite, it was obvious that your stomach was not on board with this meal.

You set your chopsticks down and exhaled, hesitant to say anything. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful when Sunghoon had been so excited about it. He didn’t even let you pay your half.

After a few moments, Sunghoon glanced up and noticed you weren’t eating. His brows furrowed slightly. “What’s wrong?”

You hesitated, feeling a little guilty. “I think the spice is a bit much for my stomach.”

Sunghoon blinked, chopsticks pausing mid-air. For a second, he looked almost disappointed, but the expression was gone as quickly as it appeared. Instead, his features softened, and he set his chopsticks down, eyeing the takeout container. It was nearly untouched on your side of the bowl.

“Do you want more rice?” he asked gently. “It might help settle your stomach.”

You looked at him, a little surprised by the offer. 

You nodded after a moment. “Yeah, sure.”

A small, almost satisfied smile crossed his face as he scooped some of his rice onto your plate. “Here. Eat at least this much, okay?”

You smiled back, warmth settling in your chest. It was such a simple thing, but it made you feel… cared for. It was like with your brothers, but different somehow. Your brothers kinda had to be nice to you, they were your brothers after all. But Sunghoon just was…nice and caring and watching out for you apparently. You knew he was feeling unbelievably guilty for what happened on Friday. 

It wasn’t his fault. 

Or his friends fault. 

Or Sunoos. 

Just yours. For stupidly accepting a drink from a stranger. It was stupid. Really. 

But nothing you could change. The police came to your hospital room and you gave your statement, it wasn't really helpful, since you couldn’t really remember anything at all that would help, but they assured you Injang would be punished.

You looked at the rice on your plate . “Thanks,” you murmured, picking up your chopsticks again.

Sunghoon nodded, going back to his own food.

The two of you continued eating, the quiet hum of his playlist filling the space. It was a comfortable kind of silence, the kind where you didn’t feel the need to fill it with words.

You liked this. Sitting here, sharing food, talking about whatever came to mind. ──────────────────────── The apartment was eerily quiet.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by scattered tubes of paint, brushes of varying thicknesses, and a palette smeared with muted blues, soft greys, and hints of warm ochre. You dragged a brush lazily across the canvas. It was slowly coming to life—a cityscape bathed in hazy afternoon light.

Normally, your days were filled to the brim with tasks, deadlines, and obligations. There was always something to do, somewhere to be. But today? Today had been mind-numbingly empty. If Mark had gotten to know that you went to work he would have probably killed you, so would Junwoo and Taeyong. Johnny even asked if he should come to Seoul to give you a once over and when you declined told you to get rest and take care of your body as much as possible. 

So you were doing just that. 

Taking a rest. 

But taking rest somehow felt even more draining than working. You had to find something to do besides sleeping, that would keep you occupied, even though you somehow didn't feel like doing anything. The last three days you tried everything.

You cleaned the apartment, skimmed through a book, scrolled through your phone more than you cared to admit and you tried to start a new drama. Nothing stuck. The boredom pressed down on you until you gave in, grabbing your sketchbook and paints.

At least painting gave you something to focus on.

You've finished the painting of your mom’s kimchi jiggae you planned to hang next to the one of her kimchi that already hung in the kitchen and decided that you wanted to paint something different. So now you were painting the gamcheon village in Busan. Since talking to Sunghoon about wanting to move there you’ve watched a few Youtubers vlogs they filmed in Busan. It was such a beautiful city. 

The silence in the apartment stretched, only interrupted by the occasional distant sound of cars passing outside while you painted for hours on end.

It wasn’t until the familiar click of the front door opening that you realized how much time had passed.

"I'm back," Sunghoon’s voice rang through the apartment. You heard him toe off his shoes before stepping inside.

You turned to glance at him over your shoulder, taking in the slight dampness of his hair and the relaxed way he shrugged off his jacket. He must’ve gone out with his friends after training, just like he had mentioned in passing this morning.

His gaze flickered to you, then to the half-finished painting in front of you. His brows lifted slightly. “You’ve been painting all day?”

You nodded, stretching your stiff limbs. “There wasn’t much else to do.”

He hummed, walking over and peering at your work. “It looks good.”

You let out a small laugh. “You say that about everything I paint.”

“Because everything you paint looks good,” he replied easily before his eyes flickered toward the kitchen counter, where the plate you used for your breakfast was still standing next to the sink, waiting to be put into the dishwasher. His brows furrowed. “Did you eat?”

You opened your mouth to say yes but then hesitated.

Had you?

You tried to think back, but your mind came up blank. You remembered making tea in the morning. You remembered eating two pieces of toast with butter in the morning, before your stomach acted up again, so you made yourself tea. Tea was safe. You remembered sitting down to paint. And then… nothing.

“…I don’t think so,” you admitted, a little uncertain.

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Y/N.”

 “I just… forgot. I did eat breakfast?”, you said quickly. 

Since you’ve left the hospital a few days ago you had trouble sleeping and eating. Somehow your sleep was really restless and you still couldn’t really eat. You didn’t even know why. You were nauseous after eating, your stomach hurting, whatever you ate, so you just stuck to small portions of rice, soup or plain bread and drank a lot of tea, that was supposed to help your stomach.

His eyes narrowed slightly. “What did you eat?”

You winced at his tone. “Some rice. And, um… a bit of bread.”

Sunghoon let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s it?”

You shifted under his gaze. “Food still makes my stomach feel weird.”

His expression softened slightly. “You can’t just not eat,” he muttered, already heading toward the kitchen.

You watched as he pulled out a pan and some ingredients, your stomach dropping.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Making food. Something you can and will eat. I swear I will call Mark and tell him you haven’t eaten. Painting is not an excuse to forget eating, Y/N.”

You nodded and just sat there, watching as he cracked eggs into the pan, adding rice and a few simple seasonings. The scent of warm, slightly buttery rice filled the air.

Within minutes, he placed two plates of egg-fried rice on the table, sitting down across from you. “Eat,” he said simply, nudging a fork toward you.

You picked up your spoon and took a small bite. It was plain and a bit bland. You took another bite, and Sunghoon seemed pleased, nodding slightly before starting on his own portion.

Then, like a switch flipped, he started talking.

“I almost faceplanted during practice today,” he said, shaking his head. “Lost my edge on a turn and nearly crashed into the barrier. Coach wasn’t impressed.”

You looked up, raising a brow. “But you didn’t fall?”

“I saved it at the last second,” he said proudly, then deflated a little. “Still got yelled at, though.”

You hid a smile behind another small bite of rice.

He continued talking, recounting random moments from his day—how the rink was more crowded than usual, how Rei had almost tripped over Wonyoung’s skates, how his friends dragged him out for food afterwards and wouldn’t stop teasing him about something dumb he said years ago.

You barely had to say anything, just nodding along, adding the occasional question or comment. But you didn’t mind.

You liked listening to him.

Before you knew it, you had eaten more than you thought you would. Almost half of your plate was gone. Sunghoon must have noticed because he gave you a small, satisfied smile. “See? Not that bad, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “Yeah, yeah.”

Sunghoon just grinned, leaning back slightly. “Good. Gotta make sure you don’t starve while I’m around.”

You shook your head, but a small warmth settled in your chest.

Somehow, despite everything, Sunghoon made things feel a little easier. ──────────────────────── Exactly one week after the party Sunghoon came home late. Frustrated and annoyed and with his wrist taped again.  He saw the edge of his skate catch the ice, and before he could correct himself, he was already stumbling. His landing was off. Again. His frustration boiled over as he skated to a stop, dragging a hand through his damp hair.

He never struggled with this jump. It was muscle memory, something he had nailed a thousand, no a million times before. But today, it was like his body refused to cooperate. Every attempt ended in a mistake. Every spin felt just a little too slow. His footwork was sluggish. He had barely made it through his program without messing up half of it. And he had fallen. Four times. 

He wasn’t going to make the Olympic team. He knew it was pointless at this point. He knew he had to stop, before he would be one of the athletes stumbling under the pressure. 

Sunghoon had been trying to accept it, telling himself that there would be other competitions–Worlds, Grand Prix Finals, Four Continents. He had time. He could try again.

But knowing that didn’t make failure taste any less bitter.

By the time he got home, he was still frustrated and annoyed. His muscles ached, his mood was horrible, and all he wanted to do was shower and pass out.

You were curled up on the couch, holding a packet of crackers in one hand and your phone in the other. Your face lit up when you saw him.

“Hey,” you said, voice soft. “You wanna watch Tomorrow with me?”

Just like that, every ounce of frustration in his body melted.

He let out a slow breath, rolling his shoulders. His mood was still heavy, but the tightness in his chest loosened just a little.

“Yeah,” he murmured, kicking off his shoes. “Sure.”

As he stepped further inside, his eyes flickered to the empty packaging of the crackers that way lying on the sofa table. It wasn’t much, but at least you were eating. 

The amount you ate in the last few days wasn’t enough for anyone older than ten months.

So he’d take what he could get. 

He sat down beside you, not too close, but close enough to see the flicker of relief in your expression.

You curled into the couch, your head resting against the armrest, the soft glow of the TV flickering across your face. Sunghoon barely paid attention to the drama, his eyes kept drifting back to you.

You had always been on the quieter side, but lately, it was different. You barely spoke at all. You looked exhausted, all the time. You forgot to eat all the time. It was like someone stole your routine and suddenly you didn't know how to be alive anymore.

He knew, he just knew, that you probably hadn’t eaten much today.

It had been days now, and he had been paying attention. The way you only picked at your food, how your portions kept shrinking, how you hesitated when he asked if you had eaten. 

He understood, why you weren’t eating. But he couldn’t stop worrying. Not after what happened last week.

His jaw clenched as he thought back to the party and to last Sunday. Your body crumbling to the floor, your breathing ragged and uneven, the sheer panic in your eyes as you tried to gasp for air. That moment had scared the living shit out of him.

He had never felt that helpless before.

Sunghoon wasn’t great with emotions, but he knew guilt when he felt it. If he hadn’t convinced you to come to that party, you wouldn’t have been drugged. You wouldn’t have had a full-blown panic attack in front of him. You wouldn’t have been this drained, barely eating, barely sleeping.

Sunghoon saw you blink slower and slower. And then, you stilled completely.

You had fallen asleep.

For a moment, he just watched you, letting out a quiet sigh.

His fingers hovered over the remote before he lowered the volume, careful not to wake you. The drama kept playing, but he wasn’t paying attention anymore.

He wished he knew what to do.

Sunghoon had always been someone who fixed things with action—if his jumps were off, he trained harder; if he lost a competition, he worked until he won the next one. But this? He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t rewind time and undo what had happened. He couldn’t take away the fear, the exhaustion, the way you barely seemed present sometimes.

And that made him feel useless.

In the four weeks he has been living here he started liking you in a way that made him feel protective, that made his chest ache when he saw you struggling.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the couch.

Sunghoon had never been good at dealing with feelings. 

Not others, not his own. 

But he knew that if you weren’t feeling like shit right now he would really like this. 

Watching TV with you, being the person you quietly sought out when you didn’t want to be alone, quietly spending time with you.  ──────────────────────── University had started again a few days ago, and honestly, you were relieved.

It felt good to slip back into a rhythm, to have a schedule, to wake up knowing exactly where you needed to be and what you needed to do. Your mornings were filled with lectures, afternoons with group work, and in between, you had your friends back. After weeks of quiet, of spending most of your time alone or with Sunghoon, the campus felt alive again.

You hadn’t realized how much you missed this.

So when lunchtime rolled around, you were glad to finally sit down with Renjun, Jaemin, and Ningning, listening to them bicker.

“I swear, Professor Kim hates us,” Ningning groaned, aggressively stabbing at her rice. “Why else would she give us a group project with the deadline in less than 3 weeks?”

Jaemin snorted. “She’s just testing who’s gonna drop out first.”

Renjun sighed dramatically. “Well, it’s me. I’m dropping out. I’m packing my bags.”

“You say that every semester,” Jaemin pointed out.

“This time, I mean it.”

Ningning grinned. “What’s the plan, then? Becoming an unemployed artist?”

“Hey.” Renjun looked offended. “I could make it work. Maybe i am the next Picasso.”

Jaemin smirked. “Sure. I’d go more for Van Gogh. I think you would be sexy with only one ear.”

Renjun picked up a fry and threw it at him.

At some point during the lunch break, Renjun glanced at your tray.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that all you’re eating?”

Your stomach twisted. You hadn’t meant to eat so little—it just… happened. You hadn’t even realized how little you filled your tray with until now: a bit of rice, a few slices of meat and a yoghurt. It was food you knew you could eat without feeling uncomfortable later.

You forced a casual shrug. “I’m not that hungry.”

Ningning frowned. “Y/N, that’s, like… nothing.”

Jaemin studied you for a second before leaning forward. “You’re really not hungry?”

You hesitated, gripping your spoon a little tighter. “Not really.”

Ningning raised an eyebrow. “You sure? It’s not because the food here sucks?”

You forced out a chuckle. “I mean, that’s part of it.”

Renjun, though, wasn’t so easily convinced. His voice was softer when he spoke. “You’d tell us if something was wrong, right?”

You hesitated. Your fingers curled around the edge of your tray.

You hadn’t told them yet. You weren’t sure why. Maybe because saying it out loud would make it too real, or maybe because you just didn’t want to see the way they’d react, maybe because you were embarrassed that you made such a stupid mistake.

But now, with all three of them staring at you, waiting, you exhaled shakily.

“Something…did happen.” You swallowed, forcing the words out. “At a party. Someone put something in my drink.”

Silence.

Renjun’s face went blank. Jaemin sat up straighter. Ningning eyes widened, mouth parting slightly.

“What?” Renjun finally breathed.

You nodded, pushing your yoghurt around with your spoon. “Nothing… bad happened. But it could have. I am just not feeling super good.”

Jaemin looked like he was ready to murder someone. “Who the hell—”

“You know Injang?”

Ningning’s face twisted in disgust. “The baseball player?”

You nodded. “Yeah. It was him.”

A long pause stretched between you all. You didn’t want them to look at you like that, with pity and worry and barely contained anger, but you couldn’t blame them either. If one of them told you they were drugged you would be furious. 

Renjun ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “Y/N… why didn’t you tell us?”

“I don’t know. It’s not really something to just tell someone?”, you shrugged.

“And you’ve been okay?” Ningning asked, voice softer now.

You hesitated, then shrugged. “I’m getting there. My stomach is just super upset at everything I eat. It’s really annoying but it’s getting better.”

They didn’t look convinced. You weren’t convinced either. But at least you didn’t feel like vomiting. Jaemin slid his untouched banana toward you. “Eat this. Just a few bites. Bananas are easy to digest.”

You sighed, but peeled it anyway. And as you forced yourself to take a bite, you saw them all relax.  ──────────────────────── You saw the light filtering through the lecture hall windows, dust motes dancing in the late afternoon sun as your professor droned on about neoclassical influences. Your hand moved across your sketchbook on its own, lines forming the skeleton of a Corinthian column without conscious thought. When your professor wrapped up his lecture you realized that yes you have painted a row of very beautiful looking Corinthian columns but you also didn’t pay attention to what the professor was saying. You signed and texted Jaemin to send you his notes of the class. His only response was a thumbs-up emoji. 

The walk home was long and the heat made it almost unbearable. It was September but summer was unwavering and the air was hot and humid. You adjusted your bag strap when it slipped off your shoulder, then frowned as your jeans sagged at the waist again. You hitched them up with one hand, mentally scolding yourself for buying them a size too big last month. The washing machine must have stretched them out. You made a note to check the care tags later. Maybe they needed a hotter wash.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. Taeyong’s contact photo flashed on screen. A ridiculous selfie of him and Johnny making fish faces at the camera in your parents’ restaurant kitchen. A warm flicker sparked in your chest at the sight.

"Oppa," you answered, pressing the phone to your ear as you turned onto your street.

"Y/N!" Taeyong’s voice was sunshine wrapped in static. "Did you get the package Mom sent? There’s three kinds of kimchi and—"

"Johnny’s mom’s seaweed soup," you finished, smiling for the first time all day. "Yeah, it’s in the freezer." You hesitated before adding, "I had some yesterday." You had taken one bite before the nausea hit, which technically counted.

"How’s uni? You sound less dead than last week."

You kicked a pebble across the pavement. "It’s… actually good? My design professor finally approved my project concept." You didn’t mention it was your third submission. "It’s just annoying to haul all my models back and forth now that I don’t have the studio space at home."

A beat of silence. Then, carefully: "Sunghoon still says you can use the living room, right?"

"I don’t want to take over his space," you muttered, stepping around a crack in the sidewalk. "It’s his home too."

Taeyong sighed. "Y/N–"

"Anyway, the studio has extended hours now," you interrupted, watching your shoes scuff the pavement. One lace was fraying. "It’s fine."

Johnny’s voice crackled through the speaker. "Tell her to eat the soup, Taeyong. With rice. Actual rice, not just broth–"

"I’m eating!" you lied, too quickly. Your stomach chose that moment to growl loudly enough that Taeyong snorted.

"Liar," he said, but his voice was fond. "Just… take care of yourself, yeah? Or I’m driving up there."

You rolled your eyes but felt something tight in your chest loosen. "Yeah, yeah. Love you."

The call ended just as you reached the apartment. The key stuck in the lock and you jiggled it harder than necessary until the door gave way.

The living room was exactly as you’d left it this morning, except now Sunghoon’s skate bag sat by the couch, his jacket slung over the back. A sticky note on the coffee table caught your eye:

"Left japchae in fridge. Made by my mom, so it’s edible!"

You traced the blocky letters with your finger. He’d drawn a tiny smiley next to his name. You didn’t see Sunghoon often, since uni started. His and your schedule was so different, that the only time you saw him was late at night, when he came back from training, exhausted and frustrated. You were feeling so bad for him, he was training so hard, but if he was right he was training for nothing. Maybe he would be able to deliver a beautiful routine and he would be accepted into the Olympic team. You would be so happy for him. He would deserve it. 

Your models and supplies were still stacked neatly in the corner where you’d left them after Sunghoon moved in. 

You bit your lip. Maybe you could work out here tonight while he was at practice. You should really get started now that your project has been approved. 

As you bent to pick up your drafting supplies, your jeans slipped again, the waistband catching on your hip bones. You huffed, yanking them up. 

In the kitchen, you opened the fridge out of habit. The japchae sat front and centre in a glass container, noodles glistening under the fluorescent light. Your stomach twisted—not unpleasantly, just… strangely.

You shut the door without taking the food.

The wilting chrysanthemums on the windowsill caught your eye as you passed. Brown-edged petals curled inward like fists. You should change them. Tomorrow. Maybe.

Thank you so much for reading! Lots of Love, Patty ♡ CONTINUE ON READING --⟢ PART 2 all feedback and reblogs is welcome ⭑.ᐟ ⤷ if you liked this you might also like the rest of this series ⭑.ᐟ

ᝰ taglist. @firstclassjaylee @enhaprettystars @vantxx95 @stormy1408 @fancypeacepersona @jaylvrsworld @xylatox @bluxjun @sumzysworld @outroherrr @50-husbands @ikeumina @softchannie @sirens-dreams @schmocolateschmchip @delirioastral @dearestdreamies @deluluscenarios @urmomssneakylink @qlorin @elairah @addictedtohobi @doririsstuff (if anyone wanted to just be tagged for The truth untold pt. 2, i am very sorry. I kinda didn't give you a way to differentiate if you wanted to be tagged for the series or just his story! So just ignore this tag if I tagged you wrongly)

ᝰ an. A special mention and thanks to @xylatox for dealing with my rambling and more or less live reading all of this. Ily and your comments please feel all of my kisses!!! Part two is in the works and will be coming! I don't know when, but it`s coming! ₊ ⊹  

[abyssyby]

photos -> beloved -> eating 📂 —

“sy, c’mere.” you say, tugging on his arm. he's shocked at how easily he allows himself to be led. he says it’s because it’s easier to let you take the lead, but really it’s never a battle he’d wanted to win.

once you got over the fear of him getting recognized, it was very simple for you to slip into the role of a clingy partner, dragging and begging him to come with you into different shops and try different things.

food, in particular.

he towers over you as you choose flavors for ice cream. he holds the nape of your shirt when you lean too close to the steam from boiling sweet potatoes. grounds you in place with his chin on your head and an arm over your chest while you nibble away at your newest snack.

revels in the endless strings of “try this”, “have some!”, “want a bite?”

and endures your twinkling starlight eyes when you blink up at him and his cup of boba tea, or his buttered corn, or his pita wrap, or his frog-shaped waffles on a stick (you chose the fishes). you dont have to do much because he melts every time, always allowing you the first bite. offering to switch the moment he sees you grimace at the flavor you chose.

your nose bumps into the warmth of his palm just as you take a bite of your fried banana wrap. he chides, “it’s hot.”

you give him a grateful smile and blow. his heart warms as you heed his warning.

and yet when you bite, it’s still hot. and the chuckle that bubbles out of his chest is otherworldly as your face scrunches up, and your mouth forms a little ‘o’ and you breathe out steam like a baby dragon.

he brushes the crumbs off your face with gentle fingers. he takes big bites of food you don’t enjoy that much and tiny ones off of food you do like but reluctantly offer him anyway.

he loves how your eyes widen when your dish is served at his restaurants, loves the little sounds you make while you savor the food. loves how you bring a fork up to his lips to share. loves the way you you lean into his hand when he wipes that little bit of sauce off your cheek.

he especially loves when you try to kiss him with sweet, candy colored lips.

or when you drink from a foamy coffee cup and grab his face for a smooch. he resists just that little bit to hear you whine or laugh, straining his neck to not be pulled down. but eventually does and you’re smearing the cream all over his upper lip too.

he chases your fingers with kisses as you’re smudging chocolate from your thumb to his cupid’s bow only to lick it away with your warm tongue.

the number of times he’s found himself dazed, blinking dreamily at you after you’ve touched him, kissed him, looked at him throws him off. but being bothered about how often he is left vulnerable in an open field marveling at your beauty is the least of his concerns.

not when you’re there, and he is here— and the moments you share stack upon each other one after another instead of trickling down like sand through an hourglass.

here, he is yours. here, he gets to stay. here, he gets to hold you, watch you, kiss you as much as you want him to. and he is so utterly besotted, it’s ridiculous.

but of course he must retaliate. winning or losing doesn’t matter when it comes to you, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least show you that he is as worthy as an opponent as he is a lover.

the obscure gelato shop in a cobblestone square holds you both captive in the sleepy hours of the night. with only a few people coming in and out, you linger just by the door with your own fruit flavored gelato. happy with your choice, you cant help but think of Sylus’s flavor. Somehow his picks are always yummier.

and as if he hears your thoughts, he calls for you. “beloved, taste mine.”

you turn and your lips brush his. not quite a kiss yet, until he presses into you deep, sharp and heady. when he pulls away, your lips tingle from the cold and the electricity he leaves in his wake.

“got it?” his voice is low and careful as he watches you lick your lips.

light-headed, grasping at straws, you guess. “pomegranates?”

his fingers swipe over the corner of his mouth into a smirk. “unsure? want to try again?”

he goes for another kiss. worse, better. intoxicating, grounding. needy and helpless you’ve become. he breathes, “got it?”

you shake your head. damn him. dazed, an equally mischievous curve appears on your love-swollen lip. “one more. just to be sure.”

you tug on his arm, and he resists just that little bit to make you work for it. to make you giggle. to make you happy. you smile. lovingly fond, you huff, “come here.”

and he does. he forgets how to breathe, how words are formed and how muscles move for a millisecond, but he does. he always will.

｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ also see: photos -> beloved -> sleeping 📂 ༘⋆

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

[sleep-0-deprived]

Divination (top Yan oc follower x godlike cult leader male reader~!) ୨୧

WC:. 1.8K

Tags: porn-no plot, dom sub relationship, obsessed follower, size king, small top x bigger sub, breeding kink, nipple play, cultic themes (fairly vague tho), bottom Amab male reader, godlike/divine being male reader, human top, anal sex, unprotected creampies, yandere themes <33

Taglist: @asher-is-hotxp @silvern1006 @unstab1eperson2 @yyuinaa @dewday1 @blond3ang3l @creepy141dollie @m4r13ll @ihavezeropancreas @sooobiinn @just-ignore-them @fuckingmxonlight @nightwinglover101 @chasingknives @littlelilithsposts @gayaristocrat @whatupbishs

A/N: Soo this S’ a request sent in by @aetheriuslover an S’ somethin a lil different but I tried but I’know it’s all rushed ૮꒰ ˶Ó ˕ Ò˶ ꒱ა

Divination was a word used a lot when it came to you, the people- the followers seen you to be divine, you were and they knew that by the robes you wore and the feathers that played on your back.

You were a god to them, a savior, and a beacon of devotion to all that worshipped you. Some followers were more devoted than others and some devotees were more willing than some. One devotee in particular you knew was utterly yours for your cause.

His name was James, he was nothing but yours, he was a man of your faith and he adored you like no other. Sometimes to the point of questionable extents. He was in the top inner cirlcle- a council of high ups really. Like a cardinal to the religion that was named yours.

So here you were, just done with your ritual ceremony sitting on your knees wearing white silken robes styled like a Chiton wrapped around you having your head tilted. Wings on your back and the sides of your head keeping your eyes hidden only to be seen by those worthy.

The sound of the old door to your worship room opened, the day was nearly dusk and you could tell it was James just by the doting foot patterns he had when he made way towards you. Your wings move from your eyes finally exposing your e/c irises.

“You look as beautiful as you always have [name]”

“Thank you James— what brings you here so late?”

“Nothing- I simply wished to see you”

He sat down before you sitting oddly close, his hand resting on the smooth fabric that did little to cover your thighs, he was a smaller man- he wasn’t a small human though— in fact to most ladies he may have been big but compared to your nearly seven ft body his 6,1ft stature only kneeled in comparison and while his chest was muscular your was still bigger.

“Is that all? I think you wish for more”

Your voice rang through the room and he didn’t bother to deny your statement. James’s hand slid up further to your crotch he was in another world just daydreaming about you it seemed. His free hand finding your hip pulling you to him on the floor, this wasn’t an uncommon occurrence in fact he’d argue that it happened fairly often. He felt like such a depraved man when he touched your pure skin.

“I do wish for more, will you give me more [name]?”

His face found its way into the chest of your robes just looking up at you in awe watching every twitch both sets of wings gave when his palm pressed firm to the bulge growing between your thighs.

“I will”

the answer was simple but it was a good enough reason for him to let his tongue from his mouth and let it start lapping at one of your peaks making the white fabric translucent on your body. His hands grip at you desperately making you feel his need- the air of lust was far from the purity that your followers searched for inside you and maybe it was a sort of sick pleasure to James to know he corrupted such a pretty thing.

“Thank you [name] so perfect- dove”

Your chiton started to be pulled and pushed up your body, you were being pushed up against him completely with your bare cock pressed between the two of you, his own robes growing constricted around his bulge. He wore the clothes of a follower and he bore them proudly. He stripped you down to nothing in his lap while making sure to be gentle around your wings.

As needy as he was he’d never risk hurting you, you knew that despite your size he’d treat you like a delicate little creature while he ruined you. A firm hand placed on your cock stroking it hard while his mouth bites and latches at your nipple leaving it all hard with your back arched in his lap, your hands gripping at his shoulders sitting like a perched bird in his lap.

His own bulge presses to your bare cheeks, you could feel the heat radiating off his manhood, your mouth watered at the thought of it filling you up. The touch that littered your body soon left for James to strip beneath you unable to tear his eyes away from you. His cock sprung forwards pressed up between your cheeks with the tip pressing a sticky substance to your crack.

“You don’t have to be gentle with me, I assure you I’ve survived many lovers”

You could feel the muscles under your fingernails clench up, clearly unhappy at your declaration, he wasn’t naive he knew with how long you’ve been on earth you probably had countless lovers or nights of pleasure in someone else’s arms but it still didn’t make him any less upset- god they probably didn’t worship your body the way it deserved.

“No matter how many lovers my grace has had in the past I promise they aren’t me”

“No they weren’t”

Fingers find their way to your cheeks spreading them and pulling them apart allowing his cock to budge against your puckered rim, the pain of being penetrated was never one felt like the average being, the pain was nonexistent so prep wasn’t needed for you to be enjoyably fucked, James had discovered that little quirk with his first night with you in your temple.

“Tell me you want me, tell me [name] let me know it’s my body you crave”

His words are exasperated and desperate and all he craves in the moment is to feel you need him as much as he knows he needs you. James’s words is muffled by your pecs his drool runs down your hard abdomen nearly getting on your cock- he always was a messy eater wasn’t he?

“I want you- I want you so bad James, I swear it”

You reach up to grab his chin but not pulling his lips fully off your skin, the pale wings around your face fluttered out of the way just staring at him so tenderly. He could’ve sworn this to be his eternal paradise. Soon the cock head presses to your rim and pushes, the first inch the hardest to spread the tight ring of your muscle but he was determined.

Inch after inch gets pushed inside you, halfway down onto his shaft and your prostate is already pressed up against- for a human he was undeniably big but his cock was still an inch smaller than your own. His skill made up for the lesser inch in ways you never thought possible. The feeling of skin contact fills up your senses, just accepting the nails that gripped your ass cheeks tight making a numb sting be felt on your flesh.

“You’re simply perfection, if only I could make so many perfect creations out of you- inside you”

Those words were lewd but they still held such a grasp over you. Your cock untouched between the two of you as you begin to lift your hips hissing to have to drop them back down on his cock- sinking the length inside you fully feeling like a virgin on top of him by the way your wings preen open like some avian creature preforming a mating dance.

“That’s it- you’re good James”

Those praises had him on cloud nine- the feeling of your warmth in his cock and your body in his lap had him a mess licking all over your pecks letting out labored groans using his full strength lifting your larger body up and down on his manhood. One of James hand moves from your ass cheek to reach at your chest squeezing it like he was attempting to milk you like a broodmare.

“Tell me how good I’m doing my dove, just tell it to me even if your words are silent”

A symphony of pleasure and body pressed contact held the room proving the state of lust shared between you two. Your walls got hotter and start to contract deep inside when his veiny tip presses your prostate head on nailing the bundle of nerves hidden in your deepest depths like a rose being uncovered from the garden.

“So good- mh- right there James- come on right there”

Your climax was soon approaching and it felt heavy in your gut, you urgently tried lifting yourself in time with his lifting. Spreading your insides for him oh so graciously getting impaled on his dick over and over until all that could be felt was a pleasant tingle in the tip of your cock and a few jolts inside your body that ached from the pleasure all of this brought you.

And god if the hand on your chest didn’t do much but only further help that pleasure. James’s lips rotating between each tender nipple doing his best to not neglect them while your fist balls up in his hair.

Before you reach your own high you feel a hot warmth inside you, his body stiffened he was orgasming hard, his hand dug small red marks into your ass cheek and chest when he started to buck his hips upwards into you from underneath doing his best to not let a drop of the seen spill out of you.

“It’s all yours [name], every bit of my essence is yours. wanna have all of myself inside your tummy”

“I wanna create life within you. I wanna plant something new something no other man has given before”

He was perverse. He was unashamed beneath you but you suppose that was a factor you had always loved about James. His cracked voice being enough to send you over the edge hitting your high hands free with your cock spurting ropes onto your abs leaving a line of your fluids mixed with his spit coating your skin.

Your cock jumped a little oozing the last bit of your come out of the flushed looking tip, the veins on the side of your shaft staring to soften coming down from the orgasm that hit you.

Your rim puckered up one last time getting the last bit of sperm from him before your wings jaggedly let themselves bend and tuck down on your back.

“Look at the mess you made us make”

He spoke letting his eyes break away to only see scattered white feathers you had shedded all around your worship space, the room was stuffy from the scents that burned and the smell of sex that came from you two.

“Let me clean this all up”

“You can straighten it all up later, just stay right here for a while longer”

“Yes of course [name] if you so wish of me to stay I will”

The words come out utterly smitten when he lets his grip of your body go, his fingers finding way to your hips just to rest there intimately. You slowly let your fingers go from his golden locks. Sitting in a calm silence with his body still conjoined inside of yours felt sweet, maybe even intimate beyond pleasure filled moments. You have been growing fond of this man haven’t you?

[allimili]

https://www.tumblr.com/allimili/780718581717549056/i-love-how-you-gave-the-beast-cookies-pointy-ears?source=share

I saw this, and a thought hit me right in the fave, Y/N kisses shadow milk ears

[yeyinde]

Been on something lately with Price + someone more reserved/avoidant when it comes to sex.

Someone who doesn't have any real, tangible desire for intimacy. Romance. Outside of a few summers spent rutting against their pillow, chasing the spiralling ends of a hazy daydream with their fingers stuffed inside their panties, chanting be normal, this is normal, you want this in their head as they think of vague shapes, shadowed anatomy; a featureless silhouette rutting between their thighs, they just don't have that drive to pursue something like this.

And it's over drinks when it comes out (too many, of course; but Price has this way of needling under your skin, patronising you with just a shallow lift of his brow whenever you order water: a sly, subtle challenge in blue, one you feel obligated to meet—). Tipsy, loose lipped, you confess that you just don't really get the appeal. It's fine, you whine, fingers tapping out an off-rhythm beat on the worn wood. When it's just fantasy, but the idea of it, of sex and romance and everything else that comes after is a little too much.

A shame, he says, but he listens. Takes in your words with a gruff counter of his own, volleying back his own desires until they swallow yours whole.

And when he finds out you never really learned how to touch yourself—something he finds truly sad, detestable, really—he takes it upon himself to teach you the wonders of it. Of sex.

(with him. Only him, of course. Because you not wanting to fuck anyone else is perfectly fine. Great, even. But not wanting to fuck him? Well. He'll fix that character flaw with his own hand.)

He takes you home. Drunk little thing. Can't even handle your liquour, mm? He's really gotta do everything for you, doesn't he? But you go willingly, stumbling after him like a little puppy until he pulls you down on his lap, back flush against his broad chest, and slips his hand down your pants. Shush, don't worry, doll. Just relax. He'll show you what you're missing out on.

Bullies desire, want, into you with the rough slide of his hand, cooing mockingly in your ear when your body reacts to his touch. See? told you you'd get nice and wet for me, mm? Now, let's make this pretty pussy cum, love. Shush, don't fight it. Just give in. That's a good girl—

He sees you as something he can mould. Break. Tame.

A pretty project to force into the role he wants with every fibre of his being: a wife. In the truest sense of the word too because as much as he wants an adorable little mantelpiece to put behind stained glass, worship when it's convenient for him to do so, he wants someone to mould their existence around him. Soft edges to his harder ones. Kisses on his forehead before he leaves for work. Dinner on the table when he gets home. Knees locked tight to your ears, waiting for his cock every night.

And you're the perfect fit for the role, aren't you? Sweet girl. Just needed a firmer hand, didn't you? Someone to tell you what to do, what you need.

There's nothing wrong with you, he says, slipping his thick fingers through your swollen, wet folds, pads tight against your sopping, pulsing hole. It's more cum than slick that leaks out of you now, and he hums around an exhale when he pushes it back in, feeling the way your body responds. Fluttering, flexing, trying to pull him in deeper. Reacting to his touch perfectly.

Like you were made for him—

"Jus' needed me to come along and give you what you needed, mm? Don't worry, I'll take care of you from now on."

[limerlove]

A BOUQUET OF GREED, A COUNTRY GIRL WITH NEEDS

pairing. bullrider!abby x fem!reader

eighteen+, minors dni. cowgirl!abby essentially, this is smut with the tiniest amount of plot, cheating (don't cheat on your partner y'all), strap!sex, munchcity, some excessive profanity.

“If your girlfriend could ride a bull this good, maybe she would actually beat me.” With her thick accent cutting through, not moving an inch, Abby is cemented in her ego.

Before tonight, she would believe the blazing heat swarming in your eyes had been a figment of her imagination. But then you’re dragging her to the back seat of her truck.

It’s a lucky break. Abby’s charm, her stroke of cockiness enabling her to leave a baby pink strap in her glove compartment.

An arrogant goddess for you to tame but seems all she’s doing is crushing you. Pleasing you. Doing everything in her power to have this moment ricochet in an everlasting timeline, one you’ll be forced to keep tucked away in your mind.

A sultry secret for the sinners to guard.

“Abs—” With a single glance, you warn her through accusatory eyes but she draws your sensitive and perked nipple in her mouth, flicking her tongue as she massages the other.

Intense cries escalate, a needy ache settling over you — a scratch you can’t reach — and she’s enjoying the fuck out of you bouncing on her cock.

Devious blue eyes look through blonde eyelashes, her signature hat on your pretty head. Even if you aren’t hers, you sure do look like it. All it took was some pretty words flying out of her mouth and your girl steaming after a loss to send you in the right direction.

“Keep ridin’, darling. You wanna be my cowgirl?” Abby shifts her hips upwards, thank fuck, but she gives you no time to adjust.

You nod, giving your supple compliance.

“Then enjoy the ride, sweetheart.”

With a firm hand on your ass, she guides your hips to meet the push the prized object inside of you, unable to stop yourself — all you can offer is clear submission.

“Oh fuck, Abbbyyyy, it’s—”

Eyes rolling into the back of your head as she fucks up into you vigorously, each moment she keeps on her mind, committing to a memory she never wishes to forget.

Each glide of her cock feels like an angel’s touch christening her swollen, puffy lips to perfection. There’s too much to answer for but her stupid southern accent wants to punish you further.

“Pretty slut you are. An even prettier angel just begging to be fucked right.” You can’t help but whimper in downright agony, your clit being abused isn’t enough. Desperately you need her to fuck you for the rest of your life.

Even so, an eternity of her lips, that mouth, these hypnotic hips encased in godly strength — it’s not enough. Unless you can have her whenever your sin feels the desire to reach, it can’t be.

“Need you, baby. Please. Don’t stop.” Whatever pride you were so desperate to cling onto evaporates like dandelions in the spring breeze.

“Yeah? Tell me what you need, sweet girl.” Abby smirks like she’s the best fuck you’ve ever had. The only thing you despise more is how true the statement rings.

Like a rooster before sunrise, you’re not sure what’s louder right now. You or the feathered friend.

“I wanna come, Abby. I-I’m so f-fucking close.” You desperately plead, as you slam yourself on her, using every bit of it to your advantage. There’s nothing more you want, a release to forget it all. The guilt floods your soul but she splits you like the red sea. 

Even god could forgive this. 

“Then tell me who the best bull rider is and I’ll get you there.”

“I think I’m handling the bull quite nicely. Maybe I’m better than you.”

“How about with a little pressure?” Abby questions before she’s pushing her thumb inside your mouth. A velvet tongue swirls, pulling off with a pop, when your drool glides to your chin.

Intricate, soft and full — there’s harmony in the way she circles your clit. “You’re so much better, god baby, no one has fucked me like this. Ever.”

It’s meant to be a mumble. A thought to be trapped in the forefront of your mind. But it releases out in the wild and she relishes every word. Caging your sinful moans in her lips, a lock only she can break, you come completely undone.

Bucking like a wild horse being broken for the first time, just in time for the show.

“Don’t be shy now, pretty girl, let me hear you. You’re my fucking girl, my pussy to fuck — my cock making this slutty cunt spill.”

Abby keen on being unforgettable, slaps yours ass as she fucks you through the highest of pleasure. Until shakes take over your body as you cling onto her frame.

For a moment, just when you think you’re free, when you’ve given all you have to offer. Abby hasn’t quite had her fill. Laying you out where you’re comfortable, pushing your leg up to your chest, flattening her tongue at the head of the rose, watching as each petal begins to blossom. 

“You don’t have to—”

Abby moans your name and wages wars with each stroke of her tongue. The sweetest pussy she’s ever tasted. It reminds of her strawberry syrup, craving for your taste to stain the muscle of her tongue with the cries that shiver in the back of your throat. 

Weaving your hands in her golden roots, you push her into where she desires to be, head first into the thick of you accepting home. Flourishing as ever, she calls for you to return home — one you never knew you had to begin with. 

A destiny of intervention. 

Fuck, she’s practically made for it.

She consumes like a woman starved. As if Abby has thought of nothing else but this moment in weeks. You in her bright red chevy pickup, a long white stripe down the middle, each piece of stainless steel polished to perfection. A gem in her prized possession is a homecoming of some sort, one she forced by the will of her hand. 

But she’s always been the greedy type. Dying to eat more than her serving, taking you right off of someone else’s plate.

Never has she been shy to become the sinister succubus lingering in the shadows, praying to exploit the humming tucked in your finely laced panties that lie ripped on the floorboard. 

Opening her eyes and looking up to get a glance. You’re right there with her, hanging on her every move. Much to your surprise, she leans forward, chin resting on your soft stomach as you’re petrified. 

With fear? With love? Who’s to say what’s worse.

It’s a small saying, one you’ve heard the minute you call this small corner of the world your home — a devotion of the devil marks the sins of a fallen angel — some notion of superiority to keep satanic measures distant from the pure hearted. 

There was warning of this selfishness, the sinful heart and how it flourishes at the bottomless pit of dead roses, the light so hard to reach when the devil splits you apart for her pleasure alone.

A bouquet of greed will only bring you closer to her heart. Hands reach for the vines, pulling the petal from stem.

One by one, the immoralities of a fallen angel become righteous discipleship. Abby reaches for your hand and she smooths her fingers over a fluttering cunt. Every exquisite fold that belongs to her, and with a jerk of your hips, you fall into her command. 

“You’re gonna call her.” Abby speaks softly, her honey-soaked spills over. When she talks like this, you’ll do anything she asks. “And you’ll try not to moan my name when you talk to her but you know what’s going to happen, darling?”

“What?” A slap to your pussy sends you shaking in desperate despair.

“I’m not stopping until you do.”