#greeting you with the respect u deserve

[elronds-pointy-ears]

[connorsui]

Bound by Diamonds - Sylus x reader

Genre/warnings: pure fluff, established relationship between the both of you, teasing, sweet kiss, darry ring (a literal soulmate ring), no warnings …unless you want to say no to his proposal..

Synopsis: Sylus carefully plans the perfect moment to present you with a lifelong promise.

Note: the most expensive darry ring is well over 150 grand in U.S currency …that is the equivalent of $5 dollars in Sylus money

w.c: 2,119

VIP: @zanyssins (I thought u might like this ...)

The night felt like something out of a dream, the kind you didn’t want to wake up from. The streets were alive with the hum of the city, the faint glow of the streetlights illuminating the sidewalk as Sylus guided you toward the restaurant. His hand was warm, steady, wrapped around yours with a casual but firm grip that spoke of his protectiveness—a gesture you had come to know well over the years.

Sylus, as always, had made sure every detail was perfect. The air held a cool crispness, carrying with it the subtle scent of rain that had fallen earlier in the evening. His steps were confident, exuding the quiet authority that made heads turn as you walked into the grand entrance of the restaurant. You caught a glimpse of the way people shifted in their seats, straightening as he passed, their gazes following him with a mixture of respect and curiosity. There was no denying Sylus held power, not just in your life, but in the world beyond it. He had a presence that commanded attention, but with you, it was softer, more intimate.

The host greeted you with an almost reverential nod, leading the two of you through the dimly lit space. The restaurant itself was an oasis of luxury—high ceilings adorned with chandeliers that sparkled like clusters of stars, and soft music playing in the background, barely audible but creating a calm ambiance. Sylus had arranged for a private room, of course. He always did when it came to moments like these. Privacy was something he valued when it came to you.

As the waiter opened the door to your secluded table, your breath caught in your throat. The room was stunning—glass walls on three sides that offered a panoramic view of the city below. The lights from the skyscrapers stretched out endlessly, flickering like tiny diamonds in the distance. You could see the entire skyline, the towering structures glittering against the inky black sky. It was the kind of view that made you feel like you were floating above the world, a private escape far away from the chaos below.

Sylus gave your hand a gentle squeeze, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he led you to the table. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice low and velvety, that signature teasing note dancing in his words.

You turned to him, catching the way the city’s lights reflected in his eyes—those mesmerizing crimson eyes that never failed to draw you in. They burned with intensity, as if every emotion he felt for you was captured in their depths. You smiled softly, feeling your heart flutter as you nodded. “It’s far greater than beauty… it’s stunning.”

Sylus’s gaze never left you, a smile playing on his lips as he leaned closer, his voice soft and intimate. “And yet, as stunning as this view is, it pales in comparison to the radiance you bring into my life. To me, you are the true masterpiece—more breathtaking than any cityscape, more precious than anything im bound to give you”

He countered smoothly, pulling out your chair with the kind of grace and charm that was so uniquely Sylus. “Tonight, let me show you just how much you mean to me,” he said, his eyes holding yours with a deep, earnest gaze. “Because you deserve to know that, no matter where we are or what we’re doing, you are the center of my universe.”

Heat flushed your cheeks, but you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “Please, if you keep talking like that you might as well make me believe in total perfection ” you teased, lowering yourself into the plush seat. The cushions were soft, molding to your form, and the table was adorned with a single candle flickering in the center, casting a warm, romantic glow over everything.

Sylus took his seat across from you, his long fingers playing with the edge of the menu, though his attention never wavered from you. “It’s not about being perfect, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward slightly, the flame of the candle reflecting in his eyes. “It’s about being honest”

There was something in his tone tonight—something deeper, more deliberate. You could feel it, the way his gaze lingered on your face, the way his fingers tapped idly against the table as if holding back some secret. But for now, you let it slide, content to fall into the easy rhythm of your usual banter.

For a while, the two of you talked, slipping effortlessly into conversation like you always did. You told him about your day, about the little frustrations and victories at work, the mundane details of life that seemed so much more interesting when shared with him. Sylus listened with the same rapt attention he always gave you, his eyes softening as he watched you speak, a small smile playing on his lips.

“ — I would love for the both of us to have some peace together …alone” you smiled, leaning back in your chair, “I know everything has become so demanding these days – so, having something cozy as a cabin would be sweet”

Sylus tilted his head slightly, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his wine glass. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you want a getaway?” His smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Because you know I’m always game for spoiling you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips. “You spoil me enough as it is. Sometimes I think you’re trying to make me a little too used to luxury.”

He chuckled, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “Only the best for my love. Besides, why wouldn't you think you deserve it. You deserve everything.”

His words were so sincere, so full of warmth that it made your heart swell in your chest. You looked down at your glass for a moment, trying to hide the way your pulse quickened under his intense gaze. “You’re too good to me, Sylus.”

His eyes darkened slightly, a more serious expression crossing his face. “I don’t think you realize how much I mean that,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

Before you could respond, the waiter arrived with the bottle of wine Sylus had chosen—a rare vintage, no doubt, something he’d picked specifically for the occasion. He poured two glasses with expert precision, and Sylus raised his in a silent toast.

“To you,” he said, his voice soft, reverent. “To us.”

You clink your glass gently against his, taking a sip of the rich, velvety wine. It was perfect, of course, just like everything Sylus planned. But as the conversation continued, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something else was on his mind, something unspoken.

It was in the way he watched you—his eyes never leaving your face, even as you spoke about the most mundane details of your day. He was always attentive, but tonight, it was different. There was a weight in his gaze, a quiet intensity that seemed to hum between you like a current of electricity.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Sylus leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the table in that familiar, thoughtful way. He reached into his pocket, his movements slow and deliberate, and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box in his hand.

Your heart pounded as he set it on the table between you, the flickering candlelight casting soft shadows over the velvet. “Sylus…”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His crimson eyes were locked on yours, filled with a tenderness that took your breath away. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment, the perfect time, the perfect setting, but I realized…that each moment I have tried — my mind couldnt conjure the right words out of my mouth …the right sentence ..or the right feeling ..everything felt out of place ..but tonight is different–this ring is different”

He slid the box across the table, his fingers brushing yours as he did, sending a spark of warmth through you. “This is a promise, sweetheart. A promise that no matter what happens, no matter where life takes us, I’m yours. Always.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you opened the box, revealing a stunning diamond ring nestled inside. It wasn’t just any ring—it was a Darry Ring, a once-in-a-lifetime promise. You’d heard of them before. The kind of ring that symbolized true love, loyalty, and commitment. Sylus had chosen this for you.

“I… Sylus..” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at him, the tears threatening to spill over.

Sylus stood then, moving around the table to kneel beside you, his hands gently cupping your face as he smiled softly. “You don’t have to say anything, love. The only thing I would ask is for you to please stay with me”

Your breath hitched as you nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks as you threw your arms around him, burying your face in his chest. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Yes, I’ll stay with you. Forever.”

He pulled you closer, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss. It was soft and gentle at first, but as the moment deepened, it became more passionate, filled with all the love and promise he had for you. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that perfect bubble of intimacy.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of love and mischief. “A promise ..more of a bound between our souls, don't you think?”

You smiled through your tears, the weight of the ring on your finger a beautiful reminder of his commitment. “gods, you say the most ..its perfection is what it is”your voice still tinged with emotion.

Sylus stood, helping you to your feet, and pulled you into a close embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you as he pressed another tender kiss to your lips. This kiss was soft and full of promise, a sweet punctuation to the heartfelt words and gestures that had defined your evening.

He guided you towards the glass walls of the private room, where the breathtaking view of the city seemed to sparkle even more brightly now. The air outside was crisp, carrying the faintest scent of blooming flowers from the terrace. Sylus led you to the private terrace he had arranged—a cozy space adorned with plush cushions and blankets, perfect for a serene escape under the stars.

The terrace was illuminated by a soft, ambient light from string fairy lights that twinkled overhead. The city lights below glittered like a field of diamonds, their reflections mingling with the soft glow of the lights above. Sylus settled you into the cushions, his hand gently brushing against your cheek as he sat beside you, pulling you close.

“This is where we’ll end our evening,” he said, his voice tender and filled with affection. “Just the two of us, surrounded by all the stars of the night.”

You nestled against him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his presence as you both sank into the soft cushions. Sylus’s arm draped around your shoulders, pulling you into a snug embrace. The peaceful quiet of the night was punctuated only by the occasional distant murmur of the city below and the soft rustling of the wind.

As you looked out over the city, Sylus’s gaze never wavered from you. His eyes were filled with a love so deep it seemed to shimmer in the gentle light. “In a world full of fleeting moments” he murmured, his lips close to your ear, “this is one I want to hold onto forever with you”

You turned your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with a profound sense of happiness. “it almost feels surreal…”

Sylus’s eyes softened even further, his expression a blend of affection and admiration as he pressed a final, soft kiss to your lips. “It's a reality I wish to keep you in”

The night stretched out before you, filled with the promise of many more moments like this. As you lay together on the terrace, wrapped in each other’s arms, the city lights below and the stars above seemed to echo the love and commitment you had just sealed with a kiss. In that perfect moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you had found something truly special—a promise of forever, made in the glow of love and a diamond ring.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧

Note Part two: I wrote this while listening to Mario Kart Rainbow Road Music! Also a darry ring is a fancy French ring that once you get it — you must sign both of ur names that this relationship is forever and ever and you can't get a second ring for another relationship!

[hannie-dul-set]

YOURS TO KEEP.

p — SHEN QUANRUI x female! reader. g — college! au, exchange student! ricky, fluff, very very lightly angsty. w — swearing, alcohol consumption. kdrama references and misquoted quotes. 3.2k words.

note — dreamt of ricky. vomited out.....ricky as ur cute bf who behaves like a cat and whose favorite forms of cross-cultural exchange is receiving headpats and watching kdramas. only 2 scenes are actually inspired by my dream 😭 if someone guesses which line/s were extracted directly from my dream, i'll reward u with a gyuvin drabble how about that 👍

you picked up a cat from the university’s foreign exchange program.

however, he did not come in a box. he came in a louis vuitton tracksuit and balenciaga sunglasses, which very much caught you off guard when you came to meet him at the admin building, and you greet him after mustering the courage to finally walk up to the cat’s imposing presence. “h—hello! are you perhaps shen quanrui?”

he takes off his sunglasses, meets you with a pair of pretty swoopy, pretty eyes, and says, “oh. yes. are you my owner?” 

you pause. you’re taken aback because that...that doesn’t sound like the right word. “ah, um. i’m the person assigned to help you around the campus and the city for the semester, yes! it’s nice to meet you!” but you brush it off because of language barriers and all. his mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape when you tell him the correct term.

“oh, sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you say. “hope we get along!”

quanrui tells you that you can just call him ricky, and gives you a small smile. one of many that you’ll be graced with for the duration of the semester.

“i’ll be in your care.”

your new cat is a little intimidating at first, clad in all black at all times. the night you helped him first settle into his dorm, even his pajamas were reminiscent of an abyss— like a white ragdoll trying to disguise itself as a panther because you later find out that he’s actually a really sweet, really polite, and really clingy cat.

“um. knock, knock.”

you look up from your laptop, ricky in a long leather coat hesitantly peeking out from your half-open bedroom door (you gave him a copy of your apartment key. your cat needs a way to get in by himself somehow). he texted you earlier, asking if you can help him out with an essay, and you assume he’s right here right now for that very reason.

“do you have your paper?” you ask, closing your laptop. he nods and lifts up his ipad, showing it off. you have a very cute cat. you scoot aside and pat the empty space on your bed, and ricky comes padding in, mattress sinking when he settles beside you, making sure to maintain a respectable enough distance and hands you his device with the google doc open.

“oh. i marked the parts where i’m not sure about my vocabulary,” he mentions the moment a yellow highlighted part came up on the screen. 

you give it a once over. “i think this is right. yeah, you did good.” when you turn your head, you’re met with a pair of proudly sparkling eyes. you stifle out a laugh. “what? do you want a head pat for that?”

“maybe i deserve one?”

you let your fingers sink into the fluff on the top of his head. again, he’s really sweet, really polite, and really clingy. but maybe a little too clingy sometimes, especially when he finally got a lot more comfortable around you.

comfortable enough to hiss at your friends.

“oh, you signed up as a student-helper for the exchange program too?” hanbin asks after seeing you walk in the classroom with ricky in row, trailing behind you like a shadow. 

“yeah, i can’t miss the extra points prof choi baited us with.” you nudge ricky with your elbow, noticing how tense he is all of a sudden and how he’s looking at your senior with a bit of a glare. perhaps he’s threatened by another feline presence.

“nice to meet you!” hanbin greets with a bright, an arm outstretched before you, meant for ricky, but he keeps tucking himself behind you with his hands fixed on your shoulders.

hanbin has his hand left unshaked for five seconds too long now. you nudge him again. he won’t budge.

“ah, ricky is still a little shy!” you exclaim, trying to salvage the situation by grabbing hanbin’s hand instead with both of yours, swinging it around, left and right. you’re lucky your senior is so easygoing. he laughs along with you and says of course, of course, he totally gets it, merrily swinging your arms together back and forth. “he’s still not that confident with his korean. right, ricky?”

“keep holding her and i’ll claw your eyes out.”

you freeze. you leer back at ricky shen, giving him your what the fuck are you saying look? he maintains his stance, tugging you back by the shoulders. you twitch out a smile and try your best to defend your clingy and jealous cat. “ahaha. he’s picked up some weird things from all the dramas he’s been watching,” you say. “sorry about that seonbae! we’ll get to our seats now!”

“haha, it’s alright! nice to meet you ricky!”

“what was that?”you snap back at him the moment hanbin leaves the premises. all ricky does is shrugs and steadies his hold on your shoulders, aiming your body somewhere and he starts making you walk to the back of the classroom— far, far away from where hanbin is sitting.

your cat is a little weird sometimes, sure. gyuvin finds him entertaining enough though. they play tennis every weekend, and ricky started picking up even more weird things from him and all the rest of your friends that you’re starting to think they’re not very good influences.

case in point—

“if you drink this, we’re dating.”

the grape juice he poured into your paper cup nearly spills over from shock. you look at him, eyes wide and brows furrowed, cheeks burning and heart racing because what the hell? “seriously, where have you been learning these things?” 

ricky looks satisfied for eliciting that kind of reaction. he pours himself a paper cup of grape juice as well because it’s a weeknight, and you have a quiz tomorrow, and getting wasted is off of the table, so you two settled for juice and chips on your living room floor to relish in your academic misery.

“jiwoong hyung and gunwookie recommended me some movies for me to watch.” he sets down the juice bottle after screwing the cap shut, and you fear the other movies those two gremlins recommended him come from a list of top 50 movie pick-up up lines to woo an unsuspecting victim. next thing you know, he’s gonna invite you to have ramen at his place or go see freaking butterflies with him. “i just watched a moment to remember earlier. my pronunciation is getting better, right?” 

ricky is looking at you with his eyes all big and his lips all pressed together expectantly. he’s waiting for your praise. you feel your chest swell. the grape juice feels heavy in your hand. gosh, he’s such a needy cat. a needy cat that deserves all the praise in the world.

“yeah. i’m proud of you. c’mere.”

you leave your cup on the table to focus on more important things— that is, giving ricky his well deserved pats on the head. you don’t recall how your relationship with him managed to get this far, still remembering how intimidated you felt when you first met him. now he’s on your living room floor, head laying back on your couch with a drama playing on the tiny laptop screen settled on the coffee table, both of you barely paying attention because he’s looking at something on his phone, and you’re gently rubbing his head as you reply to some messages on yours.

“ah, gyuvin is seriously annoying,” you complain. “he’s trying to get me to join his club. coding club he says, when i’m pretty sure he’s just starting it as an excuse to play games on campus.”

“are you going to join?” he asks, bumping his head against your palm when you stop giving him scratches.

“mm, i don’t think so.” you set down your phone to pour all your focus into satisfying your needy cat’s attention requirements. ricky lets out a satisfied rumble when set his head down onto your lap, raking your fingers through the tufts of his hair as he lets his eyes flutter to a close. “i’m already too busy this semester to bother with those things. maybe next time if he’s that desperate to fill in the member numbers..”

“yeah,” he mutters. “you’ll be too busy spending most of your time with me.”

your fingers stop moving.

ricky looks up at you, confused as to why you stopped petting him, and you’d eat him right up if you could. but you can’t keep your cat for too long. it’s only a matter of time before you get your last opportunity to coddle him like this, to shower him in unabashed affection disguised as friendship because the exchange program is temporary, and he’s returning back to china at the end of the semester.

so why is he raising your hopes up if he’s just going to leave anyway?

“i meant my acads, silly,” you say, picking up your untouched juice cup from the table, feeling the weight of the drink slosh around the paper cup as you let it hover in front of your lips. 

he’s raising your hopes up and you’re letting him. you know this is gonna end in a disaster.

still.

“but if you put it that way—”

the sharp taste of sweet grapes hits the back of your throat, swallowing down the lukewarm juice that’s been sitting since ricky poured a cup for you. if you’re gonna crash down at the end of this, might as well crash down from two thousand feet above the ground. 

“are we dating now?”

you set the cup back down on the table, gaze flickered down at ricky, whose face is flushed in surprise one moment— easing into understanding the next, and he props himself up from your lap, reaching out for the back of your neck to pull you into a sugary tart kiss.

yeah, you think, feeling the softness of his lips brush against yours, his eyelashes tickling your cheeks when he pulls you in even closer. if your time with him has a deadline, might as well make the most out of it.

“i was disappointed when you didn’t drink it the first time,” he says, drunk on sweet juice and the feeling of your mouth against his. “jiwoong hyung said that line was effective.”

“can you not think about another man when i’m kissing you?”

he lets out a laugh, “‘m sorry,” then presses a fluttering kiss on your temple, tip of your nose, until his lips meet yours once more at last. “let me try again. ahem. i like you. i don’t need a rainbow.”

“you got the line wrong, baek yijin. try again next time.”

if he’s going to leave anyway, might as well make his departure as heart wrenching as all the dramas he’s so fond of watching.

“looks like our friend here got more than just extra credit for volunteering to help out the exchange students.”

you look up from the stack of papers on your table, only to have more dropped off by taerae with a thunk. hanbin, gyuvin, matthew and ricky are also loitering around the classroom— not that they’re helping you and taerae check the test papers your profs asked you to grade as a favor. at least the constant yelling and arguing and meowing noises(?) are making things a lot more lively.

“congrats, you lucky bitch,” he says.

“you sound like you want to covet my cat,” you raise a brow at him, adding the new set to your pile as taerae grabs a new stack as well.

“your cat for this mutt,” he points his thumb at matthew, who’s currently tucked in the to answer an evaluation sheet on taerae. ricky’s doing the same evaluation about you, somewhere. you’re not sure where your cat went, but he’s probably just around. “are you perhaps open for negotiation?”

“matthew isn’t a mutt. he’s a cute golden retriever.”

“well, your cat doesn’t seem to appreciate you calling someone else cute.”

taerae swerves off to reveal a pouting ricky. he’s got his arms crossed, the evaluation sheet folded in between the fingers of his right hand, and you have to hold back a laugh. “did you finish my evaluation?” you ask.

“i did, but i wanna redo it now. negative points for you,” he protests, but lets you snatch the paper from him anyway. you scoot your chair to the left to give him some space next to you. he grabs an empty armchair and nudges his nose close to your face when you start reading his note at the bottom.

“mid-semester evaluation. my student-helper is very acommodatimg. she has been helping me adjust to korea very well. you spelled accommodating wrong, angel.” 

“i did it on purpose to test you. good job. you pass.”

you roll your eyes, free hand absentmindedly reaching out for the top of his head, and you hear ricky let out a noise of satisfaction. “she always answers my questions and is…very pretty and smells nice,” you set the paper down. your cat is looking at you expectantly. “ricky, i don’t think you can submit this.”

“why not?” he asks. “professor choi said to be as honest as possible.”

your cheeks grow warm.

gosh. this makes things even harder knowing your cat has to leave eventually.

“what did i tell you?”

the convenience store lights need to be replaced soon, you note. it keeps flickering intermittently against the dim night— reminiscent of how you’re feeling right now when you called jiwoong out for a few drinks two weeks before finals, but you’re not depressed because finals are near. you’re wallowing in tear stained sniffles because the exchange program will be over soon, meaning you only have two weeks until ricky has to pack his bags and leaves.

��not to get too attached because he has to say goodbye eventually,” you lament, a puddle of soju burning your lips. jiwoong looks at your pathetic state with remorseful sigh.

“and what did you do?” he says.

“got too attached and now i have to say goodbye to him eventually.” you groan and swallow down a shot. you’re about to pour yourself another, but jiwoong pulls back the bottle— maybe your third one of the night, you’re not sure— away from your reach, and pushes you a plastic bottle of water instead. 

“you just had to go ahead and start dating him like an idiot,” he cracks open the water for you when you don’t do anything with it. he pours it in a shot glass, and you take the bait, drinking down the water, eyebrows furrowing when it doesn’t burn your throat like you expected. “maybe if you tell him to say, he might listen to you.”

you let out a gasp. “i can’t do that! that’d be so selfish of me!”

jiwoong can’t do anything to help you but share your miseries tonight. he simply sits in silence, waiting for the owner of the number he texted a while ago to make an appearance, and listen to your drunk ramblings at eleven in the evening.

“i miss my cat. i haven’t seen him the entire day because he says he had things to do with hanbin and hao.” you’ve melted into the table. high pitched whines aside, he’s surprised you’re still coherent at this point. “bring me back my cat. i miss him so much. i miss my cat. i miss my ricky. i wish he’d never leave me.”

jiwoongs eyes flit up. “looks like your cat misses you too.” he pulls himself up from his chair and picks up his jacket from the backrest. “took you long enough.”

when you tip your head back in confusion, wondering who the hell jiwoong is talking to, you’re pleasantly surprised to see the upside-down face of the cat you’ve been missing.

“ah,” you sound out. “you’re here.”

“thanks, hyung,” ricky settles a hand on the top of your head. you blink. now you understand why he liked headpats so much. “i’ll take care of her from here.”

this is eye opening. you feel your eyelids growing heavier as ricky continues to massage your head, his and jiwoong’s faraway voices talking about something, something you can’t really hear, until jiwoong waves off, and it’s just you and ricky in front of the quiet flickering lights of the convenience store entrance.

you hear yourself whine when ricky’s hand disappears from the top of your head. “you should’ve called me if you missed me,” he says, circling from behind the chair to being in front of you now. he crouches down, settling his crossed arms on your lap, and he looks up at you with his pretty swoopy eyes. “why didn’t you call me?”

“i need to get used to you not being around even if i miss you,” you say, letting your fingers sink into the soft strands of his hair.

ricky lets out a questioning hum. “why wouldn’t i be around?”

“because your deadline is near,” you grumble. “i have to return you to where i first picked you up, but i don’t want to. but you have to. this sucks so much.”

you’re still saddled with insobriety, and the fact that your sweet cat isn’t purring like usual when you’re patting his head is making your bottom lip quiver and your eyes sting because you fear you might’ve said something wrong. “aren’t you gonna ask me what i did today?” he simply asks. you suck in a wavering breath and swallow a lump in your throat.

“what...did you do today?”

“hanbin hyung helped me settle the requirements for my transfer” ricky lands a gentle hold on your wrist and brings your hand down to the side of his face, cupping his cheek. it’s warm. “i’m going to continue attending here. hao hyung is too.”

you blink at him. “w—what?”

“i don’t have to leave. you don’t have to keep missing me.” he brings your hand down palm to the front of his lips, pressing a kiss into your palm. “i’m not going anywhere. i’m yours to keep.”

it takes you a moment to register ricky’s words, so you stay there for a while— sitting frozen in cold silence until the warmth of his messages finally settles in to thaw you out. oh, you think. “oh,” you repeat out loud, voice wavering. ricky hums out a smile at your reaction. he rises, pulling you up to your feet, and you stumble into him.

“i think i know the perfect line for this moment,” he says, steadying a hold on the small of your back. “what was it? if I don't see you, i get upset. If you're depressed, i get curious. something like that?”

“it’s the other way around, dummy.” you sniffle. “why do you keep quoting nam joohyuk?” 

“because he’s cool,” he says. “let’s go watch start-up at your place once you’ve sobered up.”

the cat you picked from the university’s foreign exchange program is clingy, sweet, and is for some reason obsessed with quoting the dramas he’s been watching. he keeps an arm around you when he walks you back to your apartment after grieving over his departure, only to kiss you with the news that you don’t have to return him any time soon.

YOURS TO KEEP. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[asahicore]

moonlight - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact pairing. dancer!sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis. In August 1963, your monotonous summer vacation becomes a lot more exciting when you meet a group of dancers that work as the entertainment staff of the resort you and your family are staying at. Your fascination with them, and particularly dancers and close friends Sunghoon and Chaewon, pushes you to help them out by taking Chaewon's place at another hotel's show when she's unable to dance. The week you spend with Sunghoon as he teaches you to dance and the events thereafter give you a lot more than the ability to mambo. genre. dirty dancing au, strangers to lovers, summer au, poor boy x rich girl trope, the Big 3 (fluff angst n smut) word count. 32.2k a/n. it's finally here !!! i've been working on this for a while so i hope you guys will like it, please lmk what u think ur feedback is super important to me !!! if you've seen dirty dancing you'll see that this is like.. a complete copy of the movie lmaooo i'm sorry i didn't wanna stray from the plot cz i love it 2 much <//3 i'll make a posting schedule shortly after this so you guys can see which of my old works i'll be reposting and all that :)) enjoy !! also thanks to @ozymandia-s for betareading this u deserve the world and u made this fic a thousand times better <333 and yep thats a compliment from me to u so u better treasure it fr.

It’s the summer of 1963, everybody calls you Baby, and it hasn’t occurred to you to mind. You’re 18, have plans to change the world, and are sure there isn’t a better man than your father.

After years of being too busy to leave work for over a week, your father has finally retired, and you can all go on a long, well-deserved summer break. Like most people your age, your dream vacation would be to backpack through Europe or Asia, discovering the wonders the world has to offer, meeting people from all walks of life and eating all sorts of foreign delicacies. But your parents wish for something more laid-back, so, on the first Sunday of August, after a six-hour drive, you get out of the car at Kellerman’s, a summer resort that belongs to your father’s old friend. You are to spend the rest of the month here, until the last day of the season.

The resort is truly a sight to behold. Even though it’s only four floors high, the main building is downright massive in terms of how much space it occupies. You can imagine the many rooms it must hold, such as the different restaurants and their respective kitchens, the ballroom and other leisure rooms, the stage for various shows, and some offices and apartments where the highest members of staff reside. Tables are scattered all across the front lawn, mainly older ladies and gentlemen sitting at them, drinking lemonade, playing cards, gossiping. You can make out a golf course and a small pond from afar, as well as the back lawn where you’re told most of the activities take place. Such activities include the outdoor dancing lessons, which your mother and sister Seeun want to get to immediately.

Max, your father’s friend, greets you as soon as you arrive as if he’s been waiting for you. Amused, you watch as they clasp each other’s hand before coming into an embrace, giving three hard but friendly pats to the other’s back. “So glad to finally have you here, Doc,” Max says earnestly. “I promise you, one week here and you’ll feel like you’ve never worked a day in your life, that’s how relaxed you’ll be.” Your father laughs and nods, and you turn your attention away when they start talking about work, and how life’s been, and how your daughters have grown, and other things you don’t care much for. 

You notice that a member of staff has begun to unload your numerous bags from the trunk, about half of which are your sister’s (“See, Mommy, I told you I should’ve brought those coral heels!” you hear her complain), and start helping him out. He turns to you with a smile as you haul a suitcase onto the trolley.

“Hey, thanks a lot! You looking for a job here?” he jokes, making you smile.

“Just wanted to help out, but I’ll let you know. I’m Baby, by the way.”

“Baby? Is that your real name?” he asks with an amused expression and a quizzical tilt to his head.

“No, but it’s what everyone calls me,” you beam back.

“Alright then, Baby. I’m Jake.” He wipes some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before extending it to you, and you take it, shaking it enthusiastically. 

Your conversation stops there when your father calls out your name, motioning for you to follow him and your mother and sister. “Come, Baby, let the staff do their work.” You give Jake an apologetic smile and wave him goodbye, but he simply shrugs and turns away, seemingly used to this kind of dismissal from guests.

“See you around, Baby,” you hear him say as you start to walk away.

-

Seeun only gives you a few minutes to settle into your shared room and unpack your suitcase before she practically drags you outside, eager to get to the dance class in time. Your older sister absolutely loves dancing. No matter where or with who, if there’s music, she’ll start moving. 

You, on the other hand, have two left feet, which doesn’t make dancing such a fun activity. You like it, but always feel you look like a fool. As for dancing with a partner, the intimacy that comes with it is too much for you, and isn’t something you particularly want to share with boys you barely know, nevermind complete strangers, like the people at the merengue class your sister is making you rush to. 

It takes place in the gazebo, which is wide enough to host about thirty guests and the instructor, who introduces herself as Chaewon. You try to follow her “1, 2, 1, 2” as best you can but it’s hard to focus on the rhythm when you have to avoid being stepped on by the lady to your left and stepping on the man to your right. Everything around you is turned upside down when she cheerfully calls out, “Let’s get into a circle! Gents on the outside, ladies on the inside! C’mon now!”

You manage to make your way into the inner circle, holding onto the hips of the woman in front of you, and finally start to sway to the rhythm a bit more. “Come on ladies! God wouldn’t have given you this body if he didn’t want you to shake it!” Chaewon shouts enthusiastically, emphasizing on the “shake” with a movement of her own.

“On the count of three,” she calls out, “ladies, you’ll turn around, and meet the man of your dreams! 1, 2, 3!”

You find yourself face to face with a grandma that had ended up in the gents’ circle and force on your best smile as you dance with her. She looks delighted, but that expression might just be stuck on her face permanently.

The class comes to an end and the afternoon with it, and you leave the bungalow while everyone gets ready for dinner, yelling out that you’re going to look around as you close the door behind you. It’s the early evening and the sun has just started to set, but not enough for the gentle breeze to be too cold. The small, round bushes and colorful flowers that line the pebbled path from the bungalows to the main building have been expertly tended to; there isn’t a stray weed, nor branch that hasn’t been cut properly nor a wilting plant. It’s all so perfect, it almost looks fake. Yet, when you bend down to feel a petal, it’s soft under your fingertips and very much real.

You walk on the porch that surrounds the main building until you reach the outside entrance to the restaurant. Max’s booming voice catches your attention and you’re able to peek through the ajar door, making sure you can’t be seen from where you stand. Your father’s friend sits at a table while the waiters stand in a half-circle in front of him, hands locked behind them and heads slightly bowed.

“Tonight’s the start of the second half of the season, so I’ll use this opportunity to set a little reminder. You’re here because I chose you lot from the most prestigious schools in the country and you need some financial help, correct?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “So do your job, and do it well. And if you want extra compensation, the gents here may be very generous if you show their daughters a good time and keep their wives happy. But no funny business, you keep your hands off. Got it?”

A quiet flurry of yeses is heard throughout the room just as a group of young people stride in, the sight of them piquing your interest. They’re wearing much more fitted and fashionable clothes compared to the waiters’ simple white vests and trousers, and carry themselves with a confidence you’ve only seen in celebrities and important people. The man that leads them particularly catches your attention: slicked-back hair, useless sunglasses now that the sun has set, all-black clothes, too much leather for the summer weather and the prettiest face you think you’ve ever seen to top it all off. He looks like an off-duty movie star.

“You hear that, boys? No funny business,” he says with a smirk to the group behind him, and they chuckle in response, eyeing the waiters up and down. They work at the same establishment, but they seem to be from two totally different worlds, you notice.

“I think you’re the one who should keep that in mind,” one of the waiters says just as the group passes by him, just loud enough for the other guy to hear. He reacts immediately to the taunt, spinning around and pointing a threatening finger to the waiter’s chest. 

“And I think you should heed your own advice, you jackass,” he spits, unfiltered venom in his voice. The waiter only smirks condescendingly, as if proud his remark had struck a nerve.

“Alright, alright, calm down, Sunghoon, and lay off of Heeseung. You’re booked and busy this week, and your whole entertainment team has work to do, okay?” Max says, tone stern as if telling a child off.

Sunghoon takes a step back but doesn’t look away from Heeseung as he scoffs a simple whatever. He then pivots back around and leads his team out of the room. You decide you’ve seen enough and turn around yourself, heading back to your family’s bungalow with quick steps.

Barely half an hour later, you’re back at the restaurant. The tables have all been set, the candles have been lit, a band is playing soft jazz in the corner, and the waiters are taking care of the guests’ orders and keeping them content. You’ve just sat down when Max himself approaches, introducing your waiter for tonight to your table. You try not to let your astonishment show when you instantly recognise him as the one who had had that scuff with Sunghoon earlier.

“Doc, this is Heeseung Lee, and he’ll take care of you tonight,” he addresses your father, a paternal hand around Heeseung’s shoulder. “He’s a third year med student at Harvard and has been working here every summer for the past three years. A very reliable and hardworking young man.” You feel like you’re being sold a car, but your father just smiles and nods approvingly at Heeseung.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Heeseung,” your father greets, holding out a hand for the young man to shake.

“The pleasure’s all mine, Doctor,” Heeseung responds, a most dazzling smile on his lips. If you hadn’t seen him earlier, you wouldn’t believe that this smile could turn snarky and patronizing.

“This is my wife, our eldest Seeun and our youngest Y/N, but we all call her Baby. She’s going to change the world,” your father introduces, beaming proudly at you.

“Yeah, and Seeun’s going to decorate it,” you say, turning to your sister. A bit unprovoked, perhaps, but this is just the way you and your sister have always been. You smile and tilt your head innocently as she glares at you.

“I think she already does,” Heeseung says, your eyebrow raising up in surprise as your sister looks down at her hands, the sudden compliment making her blush.

“Alright, Heeseung, go get these folks our best champagne. On the house!” Max exclaims, beaming at your parents.

“Yes, sir,” Heeseung says, bowing his head slightly to Max and your table before shooting your sister a smile and walking off. 

“Oh, and here’s someone else I want to introduce to you - Jay, come here! That’s my grandson Jay. Yale Business School,” Max says emphatically. Jay approaches your table quickly, a somewhat self-assured yet awkward smile on his face. He greets your parents and sister with a nod of his head until his eyes settle on you. “This is Baby, I was telling you about her earlier. She’s going to study at Yale too, and her dad says she’ll change the world!”

Jay’s lips form a pout, the kind of pout one makes when watching kittens play or a child running to his mother, as if he finds your ambitions endearing. Used to this kind of reaction from men, you raise your eyebrows and a small smile spreads on your face as if to say, “yep, that’s me.”

“How nice, Baby. But before you go off and do that, how about you save me a dance? Tomorrow night at the ball?” he offers, and the urge to kick him in the balls is hard to resist, but resist you must.

“Of course she will!” your father answers for you, and you have no choice but to put on your best fake smile, but none of the three men seem to see through it. If your mother and sister notice how annoyed you are, they don’t say anything. Knowing them, they probably think you’re being unreasonable if you’re not already throwing yourself at such an obviously intelligent and respectable young man.

That’s how you find yourself the next day, hands stiffly clasped behind Jay’s neck and his own on the sides of your waist, dancing with him to a slow-paced but lighthearted live song, although dancing might be an overstatement as it’s impossible to find a proper rhythm with someone as clumsy as him. You never thought you’d meet a worse dancer than you, but here you were. You have to keep yourself from snorting everytime he winces or tuts when you “accidentally” step on his foot, and you make sure to leave ample room between the two of you for the Holy Spirit.

Most of the dance is spent in awkward silence, probably due to the fact that Jay’s gaze, one that is perhaps meant to be seductive but only comes off as creepy, seems to linger on you for too long and too many times. When a pair of kids spins right by you, looking far more talented and serious in their dancing than the two of you, Jay seems to think he needs to step up his game and tightens his grip on your waist. Although you try to disguise it as best you can, the action makes you look up at him in alarm, and you have to stop yourself from visibly flinching when he bends down to say something in your ear although the music isn’t that loud.

“So, Yale, huh? What are you going to study? Design?”

“Um, Environmental Studies and Politics, actually. I’m particularly interested in how underdeveloped countries work and how we can change things there for the better, rather than making things worse,” you correct him, slightly raising your voice so he can hear you from where you’re standing. 

Jay is visibly taken aback by your detailed response, and all he can do is nod. “Right, right, that’s-”

To no one’s disappointment, you never find out what Jay was going to say next because right then, the music suddenly picks up and one of the musicians announces “Sunghoon and Chaewon of the Entertainment Team for a mambo demonstration” into his mic. Your ears perk up at the sound of those two vaguely familiar names, and you quickly recognise Sunghoon as the leather-clad man from earlier and Chaewon as the merengue class instructor from yesterday. He’s now wearing a black suit jacket and matching trousers with a tight white button-up, the clothes fitting him perfectly and making the muscles underneath them appear when the light hits him just right. On her is one of the most beautiful dresses you’ve ever seen, the red fringed fabric draping over her body like it was created for her, her toned upper back and arms on display.

The crowd of guests quickly forms a circle around the couple, giving them enough space to put on their show, and everyone, including you, is immediately enthralled by their performance. You’re mesmerized by how elegant and energetic at once their dance is, the smiles on their faces unfaltering and their legs and arms forming perfect lines at all times. Their posture is proud and their gazes are always fixed on each other even as they spin around, somehow never getting dizzy. They move in perfect synchronization as one entity rather than two separate people simply dancing together, and even though it is probably due to an impressive amount of practice, you can’t help but find that their chemistry is what makes them so fascinating. When he lifts her into the air, it’s with so little effort that she looks like she weighs no more than a feather. There is not a step out of place, and you’re reminded of those impeccable bushes and flowers from the day before. It makes you wonder how it is possible for two people to look so perfect together, and if that perfection is only superficial or not.

“Who are they?” you ask Jay, your curiosity about them greater than your aversion to talking to him.

From the corner of your eye, you see him looking surprised by your question before he leans in and answers. “Sunghoon Park and Chaewon Kim. They’re part of the dance people. Here to keep the guests happy and entertained.” He sighs, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head in discontentment. “They shouldn’t be showing off with each other like that, it won’t sell lessons. I’ll need to have a talk with them later.”

You barely register Jay’s words after he’s answered your question, your attention focused back on the dancers in front of you. On the other side of the room, you spot Max frowning at them and marching towards them. As soon as Sunghoon and Chaewon notice him, he waves them off and they separate, choosing a guest as their new partner to dance with, which you assume is their way of doing a taster session.

Jay drags you off to sit at a table and for the better part of an hour, you let him bore your ears off as he tells you either things he can’t fathom you’d already know even though you do, or things you couldn’t care any less about. It’s such a shame that a man with that handsome a face and that charming a smile would have the stalest of personalities, yet deem himself the most interesting man to walk the Earth. You nod and hum when you’re supposed to, and that’s all he needs to think you’re listening intently, when really you can’t stop thinking about the dancers you just saw, and even steal glances at them still dancing with some guests mere meters away from you. All you want to do is get up and get Sunghoon’s, or even Chaewon’s attention so they could show you how to move like them - just touching their shoulder or waist would be thrilling. But when you catch your mother’s eye a few tables away and she beams at you, two thumbs up in the air, you know you need to stay planted in your chair.

Thankfully, the amount of guests in the room starts to dwindle, and you use this dip in the evening to run off, telling Jay it’s getting late and you need to get back to your bungalow. You don’t let him try to convince you to stay back, and grab your purse, excitedly waving goodbye at him. He’s probably confused, but you’re too giddy at the prospect of finally leaving to care. 

You were on your way to the bungalow, you really were - but just as you reach it, light from a tall lodge about five hundred meters away catches your attention, and you’re too curious about the building you hadn’t noticed before not to investigate. So you continue walking up the small hill where all the guest lodgings rest until you find yourself before a sign that reads “STAFF QUARTERS - GUESTS KEEP OUT,” which you promptly decide to ignore.

In just a minute, a wooden bridge reveals itself, enabling you to cross over the current that separates you from the other bank, where the lodge stands. If you looked to your right, you could’ve made out some more, smaller and dingier-looking bungalows than the guests’ that hosted the staff behind all those trees, but you run into a familiar face before you can take notice of them.

“Hey! I recognize you. Baby, right?”

“Yeah, and you’re Jake!” you beam, surprised not only by seeing him again here, but by the three huge watermelons he carries in his arms like oversized newborn triplets. 

“Yeah…” he trails, squinting his eyes at you, his enthusiasm turning into suspicion. “You can’t be here. Max would kill me. Go back to the dance, Baby.” He can only take a few steps forward before you grab a watermelon from his unsteady hold, putting your most convincing smile on.

“I’ll help you carry these!” you state rather than offer, and march forwards across the bridge. Behind you, Jake sighs and shakes his head, then rushes to stop you in your tracks.

“Didn’t you read the sign? This area is staff only, you can’t be here,” he repeats, punctuating his words. He stays unwavering even at the receiving end of your very menacing glare, so you simply huff and stack the watermelon back on top of the other two and turn away. It takes him approximately two seconds to change his mind. “Can you keep a secret?”

Jake doesn’t prepare you for what you’re about to see when you enter the staff common lodge, but you don’t think anything could. The smell of a room full of people sweating and moving about hits you instantly, the heat it creates hanging heavy in the air. The breeze coming in through the open windows is practically useless in bringing the temperature down, but you aren’t curious to find out what it’d be like with the windows closed.

The music, a genre your father always bristles at when he hears it on the radio, is now blasting in your ears rather than whistling through the wind, and it takes you a few moments to adjust to the volume and intensity of the bass and drums bouncing off the walls of the room. The guitar sound is sensual and almost yearning, the singer longs for his lover, and the tempo is just fast enough for the dancers to find a swaying rhythm.

As if the lyrics themselves aren’t enough to make you blush, the way the staff dances makes you feel like you’re intruding on something. You try to look away as a couple thrusts their hips into each other’s, only to find another lowering themselves to the group until they’re crouching then slowly rising again, using each other as support the whole time. Skirts bunched up around hips, shirts almost fully unbuttoned or even discarded, hands grabbing onto the partner’s clothes or bare skin - you’ve never seen anyone dance that way. Far from the choreographed performances you’re used to, here, they’re simply letting their bodies move to the music without any second thoughts or a care in the world. You hadn’t even known this could be considered dancing, but surely, when your body molds itself this perfectly to the melody and your partner’s hands, then you can only be dancing. 

Watermelon in arms, you follow Jake as he snakes his way to the back of the room through sweaty bodies holding each other close. You recognise a few people here and there as the entertainment staff who host activities, teach dance classes or help guests find their way around. They peer back at you, expressions either confused or disdainful - you aren’t sure whether that’s because they don’t know who you are, or because they do and don’t like seeing you there. Even if they don’t know that you’re Baby, your dress at least is a dead giveaway of your being a guest. Your mom had picked it out for you - a white sleeveless summer dress that reaches almost to your knees and cinches in at the waist before flowing out over your hips. And no cleavage, of course. Along with your impeccably curled and styled hair, your prim and proper attire is a far cry from the short skirts, tight t-shirts and denim that the staff wears, revealing sunkissed skin and toned muscles. And if all of that still isn’t enough to tell you apart, then your wide eyes like a kid seeing fireworks for the first time should do it.

You finally reach the back of the room and set your watermelon on a bar counter. Jake rests his hands on his hips and watches the dancers, a smile on his face, the kind of smile you wear when you can never get enough of a sight even though you witness it everyday. You watch them too, but you must look a mix of fascinated and terrified - sure, they all look terrific, but if your dad caught you here, you’d be dead.

“Where’d they learn to do that?” you lean in to ask Jake as the next song starts playing, your gaze not leaving the dancers who adjust easily to the more upbeat tempo.

He looks at you, stunned. “Don’t you know? This is how the kids dance these days. This is what American basements look like on Friday nights.” His surprise turns into amusement and he steps in front of you, one hand extended for you to take and a mischievous look on his face. “Wanna try?”

Your eyes immediately double in size and you shake your hands in front of you, but he grabs one of them anyway and starts leading you back into the middle of the room. You’re saved by the doors suddenly bursting open, catching everyone’s attention. In run Sunghoon and Chaewon, wearing the same clothes from earlier, although Sunghoon has ditched the suit jacket and popped the top buttons of his shirt open. Your stomach flips at the sight of his flushed cheeks and hair slick with sweat.

Jake chuckles when he sees how transfixed you are by the two of them, dancing so differently from earlier, their moves far more sexual, hands not so polite anymore, completely free to do whatever they wish. Rather than a smile, Sunghoon wears a small frown and bites his bottom lip, deepening his dimples, and it all seems to make each of his moves that much harsher. The sheer sex appeal that he exudes is absolutely undeniable, and it makes you feel things you’ve never felt before - things you’re not quite unsure how to name. You let out a small gasp as Chaewon jumps and hooks her legs around his hips effortlessly, then as she leans her upper body back until her head almost touches the ground. Sunghoon’s hands are tight around her waist and his biceps apparent under the thin fabric of his dress shirt. You realize how strong Sunghoon must be when he carries her all the way to his shoulders, letting her rest her knees there as she plays with her skirt and swings her head from side to side. You’ve never seen anyone look so good while having so much fun.

“They look great together,” you blurt out without thinking.

“Don’t they?” Jake says, looking out at them with a fond smile. “You’d think they were a couple.”

This makes your head pivot towards Jake. “Well, aren’t they?”

“Not since we were kids, no. They’ve just been dancing together for so long that they’ve developed this- this chemistry and understanding of each other, I guess.” 

“Do you know them well?”

“Sunghoon’s my best friend from home. He met Chaewon when he started working here when we were 16, and then he got me this job when we were 17. The three of us are 22 now.” He meets your gaze and his smile grows wider. “Why, you interested?”

The sudden question (and the very obvious, very embarrassing answer) takes you aback and you stammer out a few nonsensical syllables before frowning at him. Your reaction just seems to amuse him. “No, I’m not. Just asking,” you manage to say.

He looks back at them, and you follow his gaze. “Well, good, cause we’re not allowed to get involved with the guests anyway. Which is why you shouldn’t be here in the first place.”

Just then, the song ends and Sunghoon and Chaewon laugh before they separate, finding another partner to dance with. As Chaewon heads towards someone else, Sunghoon catches your stare and walks to where you and Jake stand, eyes fixed on your face. You feel small under his gaze, but you will your knees not to buckle underneath you, although that’s hard to do when his eyes sweep your figure, giving you a once-over.

“What’s she doing here?” he questions Jake without looking away from you.

“That’s Baby, she came with me,” Jake says, not really answering the question.

“I carried a watermelon,” you blurt, not really answering the question either, but that seems to satisfy Sunghoon. His eyebrows raise slightly before he heads back to the dancefloor and starts dancing again. You release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, but another one catches right in your throat when, after barely thirty seconds, he pivots back around as if there was still something he was curious about. His eyes stay focused on you, unreadable.

And then, he bows his head slightly, looks up at you through his eyebrows, raises his hand, and beckons you to him with his index finger. As if spellbound, your feet move on their own until you find yourself in front of him, his hands reaching immediately for your hips and holding on tight there. All the nerves in your body are on edge and your heartbeat speeds up, almost matching the fast tempo of the song resonating throughout the room. Simply remembering to breathe becomes an arduous task. Jake’s voice is a faint sound as he says, “So you go dance with him, but not me?”

This kind of dancing is completely unfamiliar to you, so you have no idea what to do. Thankfully, Sunghoon doesn’t seem to expect anything else, and he knows how to guide you so that you get the gist of it. “Keep your eyes on me,” he commands quietly, gesturing with two fingers for your gaze to stay on his. “And move your hips in a circle, just like that,” he adds, executing the move for you to mirror. “Just relax, you’re too stiff. Relax your arms. Put them around my shoulders.” His hands brush down from your shoulders to your wrists, sending a trail of fire all along your arms, grabbing them and resting them on his shoulders himself before settling back on your waist. His arm snakes its way around it, bringing you closer to him. You aren’t sure what’s more electrifying, his gaze or his touch.

You start to focus on the music and on getting your body to move along to it, and it feels like a miracle when your hips, firmly pressed against his own, sway side-to-side in rhythm. Remembering what you saw earlier, you lean back slightly, hips still moving in small circles, trusting him to keep you from falling. You lean back as far as you can, and something about it is so liberating, you feel the adrenaline rushing through your body as if it’s the only thing keeping you alive. When you come back up, your palms are flat against his chest and he looks at you with a proud but surprised smirk that lits your insides up. “Just like that,” he whispers, but his face is close enough for you to hear him over the music.

He spins you around a few times, and as quickly as he appeared, he’s already gone, having weaved his way through the crowd back towards Jake. It takes you a few seconds to register his absence, but when it does, it’s like all the warmth he filled you with is gone; you’re left only with the heavy heat weighing the room down and you with it, when you’d felt light like air not a moment ago.

Before you can decide on what to do next, someone taps your shoulder, and you turn around to find Heeseung frowning down at you. In the fraction of a second, you can tell this is the snarky Heeseung that you’d seen when you were snooping around the day before rather than the polite Heeseung that had waited your table that night.

“Baby, right? I don’t know what you’re doing here, but your sister and parents are looking all over for you. If I were you, I’d go now, and quick.”

Alarm shoots through you as you realize you’d been here for twenty minutes at least, the sort of absence that wouldn’t go unnoticed by your family this late at night. You thank him rapidly and practically run towards the door before risking a look back at Jake and Sunghoon, still standing in the corner of the room. Jake looks worried, so you send him a thumbs up, but Sunghoon simply peers at you, sipping on a beer as his back rests against the wall, that same unreadable look from before back on his face. You don’t linger to figure it out and rush to your bungalow, coming up with an excuse that you got lost on your way back for your parents to believe. Because their Baby would never do anything she isn’t supposed to, right?

That night, as you toss and turn in bed, trying to fall asleep, your mind wanders off to those warm, big hands firmly planted on your waist, and how they had guided your body until it moved on its own accord, until it let itself go and only followed the rhythm. How far can you go until your body no longer belongs to you but rather to the music, or to the person holding you close, you wonder? And if that happened, would you, for a moment at least, no matter how fleeting, be freed of all your worries for your future and of all the pressure on your shoulders?

Your feet already ache - from dancing or from wanting to dance some more, you can’t quite tell.

-

Every year when August comes, it takes you by surprise how early the sun sets. Just as you’d gotten used to the sky still being fairly light by 10 p.m., it was already getting dark at nine. This is what you think about a few nights later as you look out at the dark sky, the bright full moon and the hundreds of stars lighting it up. You’re standing next to the gazebo with your parents as you watch other guests dancing about; clearly, since you’re thinking about the state of the sky and the sun in the summer, you’re very entertained. Your sister has managed to become friends with some of the other guests’ kids, as well as some of the staff, and has even formed a budding romance with Heeseung, which your parents have made it obvious they approve of. This means that she is excused of any activities she might not want to partake in, while you have to follow your parents everywhere.

Your gaze follows Sunghoon as he dances with an older woman, guiding her through the dance and teaching her a few steps. You can’t help but frown slightly at his forced smile when she lets her hands wander a bit too far down his back, and you wonder why he doesn’t say anything when he looks so obviously uncomfortable.

“You see that woman over there?” you hear Max ask your father as he motions to the lady dancing with Sunghoon. “Vivian Kim. We call women like her bungalow bunnies. Their husbands work all week and only come back on weekends. That dancer Park Sunghoon is pretty popular with them, if you know what I mean,” he comments with a dark chuckle. “But I gotta pretend like I don’t know any better, otherwise the wives are unhappy. And if the wives are unhappy, so are the husbands, and then I lose money.”

You daze out of the conversation when you see Jay approaching, his steps quick and headed directly towards Sunghoon. “Where’s Chaewon?” he questions impatiently, taking no notice of Vivian, who seems to take no notice of him either and continues swaying her hips to the music.

“What do you mean where’s Chaewon? She’s on a break, Chaewon needs a break,” Sunghoon bites back, tone just as harsh as Jay’s. That seems to shut Jay up, and he just squints at him before turning his head to where you’re standing. His whole demeanor changes instantly as he walks towards you, that smile one would reserve for children that he always looks at you with.

“Hey Baby, wanna go on a walk?” he asks, but with the intent way your parents, Max and Jay himself are peering down at you, you know you don’t have much of a choice.

You put on your best forced smile and take his extended hand. “Sure, Jay.”

He takes you to a small wooden bridge that overpasses a small but feisty current. The walk there is fairly silent, which you’re thankful for, because it’s easier to pretend Jay isn’t here when he’s not talking, but the fantasy is shattered everytime he sighs and hums contentedly. It’s like he thinks spending five minutes without talking will make the world implode, and he has to make some kind of noise to keep the balance.

When you reach the bridge, you lean back against the rail, and he leans on his side, apparently so he can look at you better. “I love to watch your hair blow in the breeze,” he says after a few moments, and it takes everything in you to keep your laughter in at the sudden romanticism.

“You know, not to brag,” he starts, and you know he’s about to say the most pretentious thing you’ve ever heard, “but around here, I’m known as the catch of the county.” He’s smiling, but you know he’s being fully serious. “I mean, it makes sense, doesn’t it? I’m handsome, parents love me, and I go to the best school in the country. People ask me, ‘well, what’s the difference between you and any other guy at Yale,’ and I say, ‘five hotels and a million-dollar inheritance!’” He bursts laughing like he’s just made the funniest joke ever, although you’re not sure where the joke is. You chuckle awkwardly and nod, remembering your mother’s advice - when in doubt, just nod. You’re not particularly in doubt, but you’re also not sure how to respond to such ostentatious self-praise.

To your great despair, Jay is about to open his mouth again, but a voice coming from the exit of the forest near you stops him in his tracks. “Heeseung, please, you have to help me with this-,” the voice says, and you recognize it quickly as Chaewon’s.

“I told you, it’s none of my damn business.”

“But it is! Please!” she shouts back. He walks ahead of her and she tries to catch up to him, and just like that, they’re already gone without having noticed you or Jay.

A hand placed delicately on your shoulder snaps you from your thoughts. You turn to Jay who has a sad look in his eyes and who sighs as if pained to say what he has to say next. “You know, Baby, sometimes, in this world, you’ll see things you don’t want to see. And sometimes, you can’t do anything about them. It’s all part of growing up,” he finishes, his tone self-important like he’s just taught you a world of knowledge. 

“You hungry?” he suddenly adds, all cheery. “C’mon, eating something might take your mind off of this. We can go to the kitchens and get you anything you’d like.”

He indeed takes you to the restaurant kitchens, completely empty due to the late hour. He opens up a fridge, and even though he basically does, the way he acts like he owns the place makes you wince. “So, what have we here? Some smoked salmon canapés, some ham sandwiches… ooh, brownies! What else…” he trails off, but your attention has been caught by something else. 

You can hear someone snuffling somewhere in the room, and when you lean to the side to peer behind the wall, you can make out a female figure crouched down in the dark. She’s trembling from head-to-toe, and when she lifts her head to look at you, you recognize her as Chaewon. You’ve never seen anyone looking so scared.

Thinking quickly, you grab Jay by the shoulders, smiling at him as you say, “You know what, I don’t think I’m actually that hungry, let’s just head back to the gazebo, yeah?”

For once, you’re the one who doesn’t let him answer your question and you speed out of the kitchens and back to the gazebo. You find Jake immediately, rushing to him to tell him what you saw, and he in turn rushes to Sunghoon, who apologizes and drops his dancing partner’s hand as soon as he hears what’s going on. Ignoring Jay’s confused look, you run with them back to the kitchens, from which Chaewon hasn’t moved an inch.

Sunghoon sits next to her, taking her in his arms and helping her up. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’m here now. Everything’s fine. Let’s get you back to my room, okay? It’ll be quiet there,” he coos, getting her snuffles to calm down and her breath to steady itself.

Since none of them tell you to go back, you follow along, Chaewon in Sunghoon’s arms in front and you and Jake not too far behind. “What’s wrong with her?” you ask Jake quietly.

“She’s pregnant.”

“Jake!” Sunghoon calls out indignantly, sending him a look as if to warn him.

“What? It’s not like she’d tell anyone.”

“Still, it’s none of her business,” Sunghoon replies, glancing briefly at you.

“And what’s he gonna do about it?” you can’t help but ask. This makes Sunghoon pivot on his heel and Chaewon frowns at the sudden movement.

“‘What’s he gonna do about it?’” he repeats, venom in his voice. “Oh of course, cause it’s my baby. Of course you’d assume that,” he practically spits at you. You try to stutter out a response, but nothing comes up. How could you not assume that, when you’ve only seen him taking care of her like she’s his responsibility?

You thought all staff lived in small bungalows, but the place you reach is more like a one-person studio. Sunghoon sits Chaewon down on a couch, covers her shoulders with a blanket and brings her a tall glass of water.

“So, whose is it then?” you ask again, eyes darting back and forth between the three figures that stare back at you. Sunghoon starts towards you, an accusing finger out, but Chaewon stops him.

“It’s fine, Sunghoon.” She sighs then lifts her gaze to look at you. Her eyes seem drained, like her tears took everything out of her. “It’s Heeseung’s,” she answers plainly, and you think your eyes bulge out of your face. What you’d witnessed earlier starts to make more sense in your head.

Next to you, Jake looks like he’ll explode if he has to keep in the words he wants to say any longer. “That bastard Heeseung. She needs money to get an operation, and she needs it soon, but he doesn’t give a shit,” Jake spits.

“But, Heeseung, he’s got money, I’m sure if you just ask him, he’ll-”

“Baby? Is that your name?” Chaewon asks softly, interrupting you. “Well, you don’t know shit about my problems, Baby,” she continues, her tone doing a 180. “You don’t think I’ve asked him? You don’t think he knows?”

“But-”

“Go back to your playpen, Baby,” she dismisses you, a finality to her tone. Sunghoon just glares at you while Jake shrugs, so you decide there’s nothing you can do than leave, and head back to your bungalow, heart heavy, but determined to help Chaewon out. There has to be something you can do, you just know it.

-

The next day, you pretend to help Heeseung set the tables for the lunch service to have a talk with him. You waste no time starting your interrogation, not even greeting him before diving straight into it.

“I know about Chaewon, Heeseung. You need to help her out,” you say sternly, using a random water pitcher you’d found at the entrance to fill up crystal glasses.

“Well hello to you too, Baby,” he says with a sarcastically sweet tone. His fake smile drops when he sees you won’t play into his game. “I don’t need to do anything,” he scoffs. “Not like it’s any of your business anyway.”

“Haven’t you seen her? You can’t leave her alone in a time like this, she needs your help. Even if it’s mostly financial help. It’s the least you can do.”

“Girls like her, they get into trouble all the time, okay? Hey, watch what you’re doing!” he whisper-yells when water spills over one of the glasses, not wanting to rouse the suspicion of any of the diners around.

“Yeah, because of guys like you,” you bite back, but he ignores you.

“She was bound to get knocked up at some point, going around like that.” You follow as he moves on the next table. 

“So you’re not going to do anything? Just put her in a bad situation and then run away?”

He finally turns to face you, looking at you like he’s exasperated, like you’re the bad guy here. “That girl’s not my problem, okay? She brought this upon herself.”

You take a step closer to him, a fakely sweet smile plastered on your lips. “You’re a jerk, Heeseung. You stay away from me, stay away from my sister, or I’ll have you fired.” You then raise the jug of water up to his chest, and keep that same smile as you pour it on him before marching away, ignoring the gasps that echo all around the room and Heeseung as he yells at you to come back.

-

Your mom is struggling to get the ball in when you find your parents on one of the many golf courses. Your dad smiles as he sees you nearing them, asking you if everything’s alright.

“Daddy.”

“Baby?” he answers, looking amused by your seriousness.

“You know how you say I should always do my best to help out others when they need it?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I’ve got friends who need some help.”

“What kind of help?” he asks, slightly frowning as he realizes you’re not being serious for no reason.

You take a big breath in. “Money.” You don’t like asking your dad for money, but it’s the only solution you’ve come up with.

“And just how much money?”

“Three hundred dollars?” you say, your sentence coming out like a question as you slightly wince in apprehension.

Your father sighs. “That’s a serious amount of money, Baby. This isn’t anything illegal, is it?” he adds after a beat, taking you aback. Is this illegal? If it is, your father doesn’t need to know it.

“No, no, of course not, Daddy,” you say, trying your best at a reassuring smile. It seems to work, because his expression softens and he smiles back.

“Of course not,” he repeats, “I should know that.” He takes you in his arms. “I’ll have the money ready for you tonight.” You hug him back, thanking him before skipping away to whatever activity you might find to distract yourself before the evening.

-

After dinner, when your dad’s given you an envelope filled with cash, you throw a quick excuse your parents’ way before rushing to the staff quarters, making sure no one sees you on your way there. The music emanating from the common room makes you hopeful you’ll find the people you’re looking for.

And indeed, you do - Sunghoon and Chaewon are holding each other close, her head resting on his chest, and swaying together to the slow and sensual rhythm of the music at the back of the room when you find them. You feel a ping of something uncomfortable in your heart but ignore it and head straight towards them. Chaewon turns around when you tap on her shoulder, her and Sunghoon both looking at you with unmasked animosity, but you just smile as you hand her the envelope. Jake notices you and walks over to stand next to his cousin.

“Here you go. I hope it’s enough,” you say, relieved to see her surprised but ecstatic expression when she opens the envelope and sees all the bills in there. Jake wears a similar expression but Sunghoon just leers down at you.

“Oh my God, Baby, this is amazing,” Chaewon exclaims in disbelief. “How did you get Heeseung to change his mind?”

You purse your lips. “It wasn’t Heeseung…”

She frowns slightly but her eyes widen at the realization that if it isn’t from Heeseung, it has to be from you. “Oh, Baby, thank you so much,” she murmurs.

“Yeah, takes a real saint to ask daddy,” Sunghoon says sarcastically. Chaewon’s head snaps towards you and she starts to shake her head, forcing the envelope back into your hands.

“I can’t accept it, then.”

“Why not?” you, Sunghoon and Jake blurt at the same time.

“Who cares where it comes from? You need the money,” Sunghoon says, trying to persuade her, but she just continues to shake her head.

“It doesn’t feel right. And I can’t go to the appointment anyway,” she chuckles defeatedly, and Sunghoon looks at Jake in confusion.

“I can only get her an appointment next Thursday, when you guys have your act at the Sheldrake,” he explains guiltily, as if it’s his fault.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sunghoon breathes out, looking up to the ceiling in despair, hands on his hips.

“Can’t you miss just that one night?” you ask innocently, but apparently it is the stupidest question on earth, judging from the harsh glare Sunghoon fixes you with.

“No, we can’t miss just that one night. This is our job, and if we cancel the Sheldrake, not only do we lose this summer’s salary, but also next summer’s gig. Our livelihoods depend on this,” he hisses.

“So… can’t someone fill in?” you ask again, and wince when he raises his tone.

“No, Little Miss Fix-It, someone can’t fill in. Everybody works here, unlike you. Unless you wanna do it,” he adds after a pause, chuckling sarcastically, “take some time off of Simon Says?”

You can only glare back at him, even though you couldn’t look as condescending as him if you tried. You’re just trying to help them out and find solutions, no need to be so rude about it. Jake looks back and forth between the two of you, a look on his face like he’s thinking things over.

“You know, maybe she could do it. You weren’t so bad last time, were you, Baby?” he says, eyebrows raised at you as he waits for your answer, a hopeful look on his face that makes you feel bad for letting him down.

You shake your head fervently - learning a complicated choreography and performing it in front of an audience is unthinkable to you. “No, no, I can’t even do the merengue.”

“C’mon!” he insists.

“You heard her, Jake, she can’t even do the merengue,” he repeats, adding venom to the words.

Chaewon doesn’t seem to think this is such a bad idea either. “But Sunghoon, you could teach anyone to dance, you’re an amazing leader,” she says eagerly, but Sunghoon just rolls his eyes and sighs.

“The act is in a week, even if I was the best teacher in the world, she couldn’t learn the whole routine in that time. It’s a lost cause,” he sneers, his gaze fixated harshly on you. You’re not sure whether the lost cause refers to the situation or to you.

You squint your eyes at him, trying to match his gaze. It’s one thing that you think it’s a bad idea, but it’s a whole other thing now that he’s so against it. Jake’s right - you weren’t that bad last week, you’re sure you could be an okay replacement. Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you as if in challenge.

Challenge accepted, you think.

-

“Now it’s one, two, three, four,” Sunghoon says, synchronizing each number to the beat of the music. “You don’t dance ‘til the two.” This is probably the fifth time he tells you this in the past half-hour, and although you know what you’re meant to do, your body will simply not listen to your head.

You’re in the dance studio, trying as hard as you can to get your body to shape itself into what Sunghoon wants it to be. Arms up at shoulder-level, core engaged, back straight, head proud. He may repeat those directions over and over again, you aren’t used to holding yourself like that, and it’s a lot harder than it seems, even though he makes it look so natural.

He moves the tonearm of the record player so that the music starts from the beginning again and walks towards you, his stern gaze never leaving your eyes as if to say, “you better not mess it up this time.” It makes the room feel a lot hotter than it actually is, and the strong summer heat coming in from the open windows doesn’t help.

You can’t help but wonder if Sunghoon is this impatient with all of his students - surely he’d be out of a job if he actually behaved like this with the fancy ladies of the resort, so he must have some kind of problem with you. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that he isn’t the fondest of you, anyway. The fact that you’re only doing this to help him out and not for your own pleasure seems lost on him, but you’d rather not aggravate the situation by pointing that out.

His hands firmly holding yours, his gaze still fixed on your face, you hear your cue approaching and tell yourself “on the two, on the two, on the two,” but it’s no use, your foot starts to move a beat too early. But this time, Sunghoon anticipates your movement and says, softer than you expect ‘no,’ and you put your foot back down instead of stepping on his like countless times before. Then he instructs ‘now’, and you finally get it right, getting into the flow of the music properly. You repeat this process a few more times, and only take a break when he’s sure you won’t make mistakes anymore.

You’re halfway through a one-liter bottle of water when you hear him say, “Finally got the basic footwork down, only took an hour.” You scoff at the snarky remark and are about to come back at him with something just as petty, but you notice the shadow of a smile on his lips, more playful than patronizing, so you bite it back and try to suppress a smile of your own. With Sunghoon, you’ll take what you can get.

He doesn’t give you more than another minute of break, ignoring your complaints and urging you back towards him in the center of the room. “Let’s move on to the second part.”

You only have a week to get ready, so you practice like crazy, Sunghoon trying to reduce his working hours as much as possible and you slipping away from your parents and sister whenever you can. You go over the steps on your own, taking any opportunity to do so, whether that’s when you find yourself alone in your family’s rental or as you walk back across the bridge and lawn to the main grounds, letting your body move to the music in your head.

When she can make it, Chaewon also comes to practice with you. Her presence is always helpful - she sometimes stands behind you, holding you by the hips and correcting your posture, sometimes replaces either you or Sunghoon so you can watch her and mirror her moves from different perspectives. 

Although she was originally wary and dismissive of you, when she saw how intent you were on helping her, a complete stranger, out, her view of you completely changed. You can tell how thankful she is by the constant kindness she shows you, encouraging you to compensate for Sunghoon’s lack of praise.

Indeed, all three of you are surprised and happy to see how quickly you’re progressing, but Sunghoon has a knack for keeping his emotions behind a veil and his praises to a minimum. Sure, that means his compliments, his small ‘you did well today’ or ‘good job’ make you blush a little redder, but you wouldn’t complain if they were more frequent, either.

What he can’t hide from you, however, is that he is clearly starting to become more tolerant of your presence. You’d like to say you knew all along that he would soften up eventually, but truth is, you were scared he was going to stay this cold for the length of your time together, so it comes as even more of a relief when he stops reprimanding you so harshly for small mistakes or when he smiles along with you as you celebrate getting through a big chunk of the routine flawlessly for the first time. When one day, he actually laughs with you instead of berating you, you almost explode in on yourself out of joy. You convince yourself that those butterflies you feel erupting in your stomach is because it’s so surprising to see someone usually so guarded letting himself go a bit more, that it isn’t just the simple sound of his laughter making you feel lightheaded.

On the fourth day of practice, you manage to find enough time to practice for almost three hours in a row. Towards the end of the session, after feeling like you were about to pass out due to extortion, you have a strange surge of energy. Sunghoon, on the other hand, has almost exhausted his very impressive stamina, but still wants to go through what you’ve learned up until now.

The music starts, and you don’t know if it was this surge of energy, or if it was Sunghoon’s tired expression that made you want to tease him, but you decide it’d be funny to repeat back to him the directions he always gives you - you know them by heart at this point. 

“Hey! Head up,” you joke as you face each other again after a spin. “Lock your frame. Wiggly arms!” You’re happy to see he laughs along with you, shaking his head in amused disbelief at you.

The laughter immediately halts, however, when at the end of the routine, because of your lack of concentration, your foot slips and you find yourself much closer to him than necessary for the ending pose. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your cheeks immediately burn up. After a long moment, Sunghoon looks away, clearing his throat, and you take a big step back from him as if being any nearer might make you spontaneously combust.

“That was, um, that was good today. Good job,” he says quickly, then rushes to grab his stuff and leave the room. Forget the proximity the two of you were just in - was that a flustered Sunghoon you got to see? And was it because of you? It’s almost unfathomable that you could render him shy like that, but a small smirk plays on your lips at the idea of it.

Over the week, you start reaching for the thin tank tops and shorts you own, and steal some of Seeun’s lipgloss and mascara. If Sunghoon notices it, he doesn’t say anything. But perhaps, you’re the one who hasn’t noticed the way he glances at you in the mirror when you take a break or practice on your own, how he can’t help raking his eyes over your body when you aren’t looking, unable to reign his curiosity in. That you might want to get some kind of a reaction out of him doesn’t even cross his mind - because no matter how attractive he may be, he can’t imagine that a serious, educated girl like you with big plans for the future might be interested in a guy like him.

So even if his iciness thaws a bit, he doesn’t let it show that having you around messes with his head, and stays a stern instructor who wants you to get the routine down to a T. “We can’t afford to make any mistakes,” he always says. But there’s something about the way he delivers his instructions sometimes that makes it impossible for you to concentrate on the dance. He’s always either dancing with you, your bodies just a foot apart, or sitting on the floor close to you and watching you, so he doesn’t need to speak so loud for you to hear him. It’s this quietness mixed with the strictness of his tone that makes your insides completely melt. Soft yet rigid, intimate yet steely. 

“Don’t put your heel down, stay on your toes.” 

“Keep your eyes focused on me, especially when you’re spinning.” 

“Always keep your core and your head straight.” 

Words that have no double-meaning whatsoever, yet it doesn’t take long for you to start wondering if he keeps this tone everywhere. Whenever those thoughts cross your mind, you’re practically unable to look him in the eye and speak without stammering. He makes you dizzier than the spins you practice.

It’s on the fifth day that you realize how deep your infatuation with Sunghoon truly is. The routine isn’t exceptionally long, so after five days of practicing, you have all the steps down, except for the lifts which he keeps putting off for later. He watches you do it on your own, and although he admits you know it in and out, he said there’s still something missing. The pang of disappointment you feel at his words soon turns into anticipation as he comes to stand in front of you, closer than usual, and brings your hand to his chest, keeping both of his own over yours.

“Feel this?” he says, voice almost a whisper. By now, you’ve gotten used to the intensity with which he always stares at you, but this time seems different; there’s something more vulnerable, more intimate about his gaze, something you don’t quite understand. You just stare right back at him, unable to look away.

You aren’t sure what he means so you lightly shake your head no. “Here,” he insists, pressing your hand more firmly to his chest, and it clicks. He wants you to feel his heartbeat. Your eyebrows jump slightly, and his lips form a small smile at your realization. “Close your eyes.” he says softly, and you do as told. 

“The steps aren’t enough, Baby. You have to feel the music. It’s within you, it’s within me, it’s within all of us. You just gotta find it.” This was something you’d heard a lot of times before, said by singers on the radio, by some of your friends in the high school choir - that they felt the music. But you’d never quite understood what they meant until now, until Sunghoon showed you. With two fingers, he starts tapping against the back of your hand to the rhythmic beat of his heart. 

“Du-dum, du-dum. Feel it now?” he asks, and you nod, too transfixed to produce actual words. His smile widens, and your heart swells because of his expression, more affectionate than you’ve ever seen it. 

“Now dance.”

Your body moves as if of its own accord, the moves now ingrained in your muscles and coming as a reflex to you. Together, you go through the whole routine with no music. You hadn’t needed to check yourself in the mirror to know you did perfectly - the smile on Sunghoon’s face tells you enough.

When the evening rolls around, there’s a lightness to your demeanor that both confuses and delights your parents, but even if they asked you to explain what happened, you don’t think you’d be able to find the words to do so.

-

Sure, Sunghoon doesn’t look at you like he hates you with every fiber of his being anymore, and he even dares crack a smile or laugh once in a while, but it’s not like you’re the best of friends either. There are still moments when he gets frustrated with you - one of those being the time you practice the opening of the routine. He hadn’t yet taught you that part, but as soon as he showed it to you, you understood why.

You stand back to him, heads turned towards each other. Your heights match perfectly so that, when standing so close together, his lips are right in your eyeline. His beautiful, plump, kissable lips that you find yourself thinking about too many times.

Your left arm stays by your side but your right arm is raised so that he can trail his fingertips all the way from your hand down to your waist - a sensual move that, despite setting the tone for the routine, you are not at all ready to perform. Not because it requires any kind of complex technique or years of practice, far from that, but because you don’t yet have the professionalism that Sunghoon, Chaewon and other performers like them have. Nevermind his fingers brushing past your armpit, which is obviously a ticklish place, you can’t handle the seriousness that comes with such intimacy, nor can you resist the urge to laugh every time. This, of course, does not please Sunghoon.

The first couple times it happens, he just rolls his eyes and sighs, thinking you just need to get your head in the dance and then you’d be fine. So he gets back into position, again, again, and again, and even though your full-blown laughters turn into quieter snorts or chuckles, you still can’t find it in you to keep a straight face. 

After the sixth time, his patience runs out. You can tell he wants to blow up at you by the redness of his face and the iciness of his stare, but when he speaks, he doesn’t raise his voice - his tone is so harsh that there’s no need for it. 

“You pull yourself together, or we’re done here.”

Whether he means you’re done for the day, or completely done with the practice, meaning all your efforts this week go to waste and you don’t perform on Saturday, you aren’t sure, but you don’t think this is the right time to question him. You get back into position, and finally, on the seventh try, you don’t laugh. After so many times, his touch doesn’t tickle so much - rather, it burns. Now, instead of resisting laughter, you have to keep yourself from completely melting under his touch.

But then, you realize that this is what you’ve been daydreaming about this whole time - to have him close, to have him touch you. Even though this was still part of the routine, the point of this move was to show the chemistry between the two dancers, the attraction they needed to, or at least pretend to, have for each other to take the performance from good to mesmerizing. Good thing you didn’t need to pretend.

Of course, Sunghoon has touched your waist and shoulders thousands of times by now, but after so many days together, you start to crave a different kind of touch, and in different places. You never let yourself relish too much in the warmth of his palms for fear of getting too used to it, and, worse than anything, missing it when he’s gone - as if that wasn’t already the case. But with this opening move, you can finally let yourself melt under his touch and play it off as being really into the dance. If anything, he’d probably be glad you’re letting your reserves go.

And so you do. Eyes closed, head tilted towards him and slightly back, revealing more of your neck, you feel his fingertips brush along your side until they reach your hand, and you start dancing. For the two minutes of the routine, you aren’t even thinking of the steps anymore, only looking into his eyes and letting your muscle memory do the work for you.

At the end, you stay in the final pose for a few seconds longer than usual, looking into each other’s eyes. Sunghoon isn’t the most expressive person ever, so you’d quickly learned how to decipher the slightest changes in his face. In this moment, he looks at you like he sees you for the first time, really sees you, with something like pride in his eyes. You smile at each other, and his next words make your heart skip a beat in surprise at first, then swell in satisfaction.

“I think that was the best you’ve danced so far. If you do it like this on Saturday night, it’ll be perfect.”

-

However, there’s one last thing you needed to learn: lifts. Sunghoon has been putting them off almost the whole week, saying you’d get to them later, that you needed to get the other steps down before. There are two in the routine, and whenever one comes up, Sunghoon says “that’s for later,” and keeps going with the dance. Except later never comes, and soon enough, you only have a day left to learn and perfect those lifts. The stress of not mastering them on time starts to get to your head, and your stress must be contagious, because Sunghoon explodes for the first (and only) time on Friday afternoon when you make a mistake in the basic steps.

“Are you kidding me?” he suddenly yells, taking a wide step back away from you and looking at you with uncharacteristic anger. Sure, he wasn’t always the most pleasant with you, and you were no stranger to Sunghoon’s expressions of or dislike, but you hadn’t seen anger on him until now. No matter how beautiful he is, you have to admit this isn’t his best look.

“What?” you respond, voice at the same level as his, not understanding his sudden burst of impatience.

“What?! This is a basic step you shouldn’t even be thinking about anymore, let alone not get right. The performance is tomorrow, you can’t be making stupid mistakes now!” He sighs in frustration and tears his gaze away from you for a moment, then looks back, his eyes hard. “Is this your idea of fun?”

You scoff and cross your arms over your chest. “My idea of fun? You really think I’m doing this for fun?” He doesn’t say anything, just keeps on staring at you. “I’ve been breaking my back and sneaking around for almost a whole week just to save your ass, I don’t get anything out of it, and you have the nerve to ask me if I’m doing this for fun?” You can see he wants to say something, but you don’t let him. “Oh, and I’m glad you seem to remember the performance is tomorrow, because I’ll have you know you still haven’t taught me those damn lifts! How can you get mad at me for a small mistake when you won’t even teach me the whole routine?!”

You’re out of breath after screaming so loud and so quickly, but still Sunghoon doesn’t move for a few seconds, until suddenly, he pivots and walks towards the door. At the threshold, he turns to you and tells you to follow him, as if that should have been obvious. He doesn’t give you any time for questions so you run after him. Outside, a heavy summer rain is coming down, and your clothes are soaked through after just ten seconds. You walk a few steps behind him as he heads to his car, muttering a curse under his breath when he realizes he’s forgotten his keys inside the locked vehicle. You let out a small shriek when he breaks one of the backseat windows to open the door from inside, reaching for his keys still resting in the ignition. You just stand there, watching him in confusion, until he calls to you from the driver’s seat. “C’mon! There’s a place I need to show you.”

You know it’s a bad idea - you’ve already been gone for over an hour, and if you leave with him for God knows how much longer, your parents would start to wonder where you are. But there’s something about his face, his anger that had completely disappeared and let way for what seemed like excitement, the rain pouring down and the loud sound of his car’s motor; it all creates a rush of adrenaline in you, and you want to know what he has in store. So you get in the car, and as soon as you’re buckled in, Sunghoon backs out of the parking lot and starts driving, the destination completely unknown to you, but you trust him enough to not be bothered by that.

The two of you drive for around ten minutes in comfortable silence, sometimes catching the other’s eye in the rearview mirror and bursting into giggles. You don’t know why, but when you open your window and let your arm out, letting out a big whoop, he laughs like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen.

In the week you spend together with Sunghoon, these are the moments you love the most. When he’s seemingly let go of his barriers and lets you see a side of him that you don’t think many people get access to, a side to which laughter comes easy. Although it gives you whiplash when he so suddenly goes back to his serious and stonelike nature, you’d rather get glimpses of his carefree self than forever be stuck with the face he usually puts on with you. You aren’t sure if he is always one or the other with other people, or if he keeps his tendency to almost switch personalities with everyone, but you’re just glad it doesn’t feel like he’d always prefer to be somewhere else than with you anymore - and that it almost feels like he enjoys, or at the very least tolerates spending time in your company now.

He parks in what seems to be the middle of nowhere, on a small patch of gravel between the road and a forest, right before a bridge that crosses over a current. He gets out and starts towards what looks like a forest, telling you good-humoredly to hurry up and follow him. The rain has calmed down to a drizzle, gentle as it falls on your shoulders and a refreshing break from the sweltering heat of the past few days. Faster than you expected, you’ve reached your destination, which is a point where the current is calm and a wide trunk tree crosses it. You have no idea how Sunghoon ever found this place, but you’ve never seen him wear such an ecstatic expression, so you don’t even question it.

He takes his shoes off and gets on the tree trunk, spreading his arms wide to keep himself from falling. You sit down, one leg on each side of the trunk, and watch amusedly as he titters and regains his balance, sending sheepish smiles your way when he gets close to plummeting into the water. 

“Where’d you learn to dance?” you ask suddenly, the question forming in your head and leaving your lips simultaneously.

He considers you for a second, then plops himself down on the trunk, letting his legs sway over the emptiness. He looks out to the current when he speaks, as if talking to the air around him rather than directly to you. “I lived and went to school in a low-income neighborhood, so there were always these people coming and going, trying to get kids like us to start working and get out of the neighborhood, or make it better or something. One day these people came in, saying they were giving out lessons to become a dance instructor, and it was the only one that ever caught my interest. I did it, aced the test, and they gave me a spot here that I managed to keep every summer. Haven’t wanted to do anything else since.” He looks back at you and you catch a glimpse of cautiousness, perhaps a fear of finding judgment in your eyes, but his expression turns friendly again when he finds only curiosity and sympathy there.

“What about the rest of the year? Do you also have a teaching job back home?” you ask, daring to go further in your interrogation of Sunghoon’s personal life. Just a few days ago, you’d never have dreamed of asking him something like this, but there’s something about him today that makes you think it’s okay to get closer, if you tread lightly.

He snickers humorlessly and looks down at his hands, palms resting on the trunk in front of him. “I’m lucky I get to escape that place just three months a year when I’m working here. Otherwise, I’m stuck with the old man and his carpenting business I’m fated to inherit when he retires.” Before you can say anything in response, he jumps back up on his feet and holds a hand out to you, making a motion for you to come to him. You’re slightly taken aback at the sudden switch in his demeanor, but you know better than to force anything with Sunghoon. “We didn’t come here to chit-chat, did we? Come over here.”

Devilish - there’s no other word to describe his expression at that moment.

“Nuh-uh, I’m not getting on there, I’m gonna fall and break an ankle,” you immediately protest, but he doesn’t need to say anything, just approaches you with a mischievous smile and reaches his hands out to you - and you take them, letting him bring you to your feet.

You climb up tentatively, glad to see the trunk isn’t slippery even after the rain, and hold on tight to Sunghoon’s hands until you’ve managed to find your own balance. “Okay, what now?” you say breathily, half-paralyzed in terror and half-pumped with adrenaline.

“Let’s dance,” he says, a playful smile teasing his lips.

“What, here?” you reply, looking at him like he suggested you rob a bank.

“Yes, here.” He grabs your hand tighter and brings you closer to him, securing an arm around your waist before you can stumble off of the trunk. It’s definitely your near-death experience and not his proximity that makes your heart beat faster, definitely.

He quietly hums the song, but you’ve heard it so many times at this point that you could do the dance with no music at all. More than dancing the same steps, there’s something electrifying about knowing that the same song is playing in your and Sunghoon’s heads right now. You wonder if he feels it playing in his heart too.

What you’re doing isn’t quite dancing - you’re just taking small, careful, clumsy steps together, giggling as you try to stay atop the trunk and letting out a yelp when he attempts to spin you but it only results in you two almost falling off. He holds you close as if making sure that if one of you goes down, the other goes down with them. Your face is right in front of his chest, and when you risk a look up at him, he’s already gazing down at you, his playfulness making the light in his eyes shine even brighter. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when his eyes drift down to your lips, moving as you talk, but you still manage to get the words out, whispering them in the small space between the two of you. “You’re supposed to teach me lifts, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go,” he whispers back, but makes no move to leave the trunk or distance himself from you.

“Okay,” you breathe. You repeat the word and take a step back, somehow gathering the will to tear yourself away from him, from his eyes fixated on your parted lips. “Let’s go.”

He leads you back through the woods to a wide clearing. After the downpour of the early afternoon, the sun is starting to shine again, rays of light making their way through the grayish clouds and high pines, and bathing your surroundings in a comforting glow. Sunghoon stands facing the sun, and the sunlight hits his face so perfectly, you have to keep yourself from snorting at how ridiculously handsome he is.

The only instructions he gives you are as follows: “You’ve seen lifts before. You know you just run to me to gather momentum, then when you’re close enough, bend your knees and keep your core and whole body tight as I lift you. But the most important thing is that you trust me, alright? If you don’t, we could both get hurt.”

The first few times, you just practice the running and the picking up, not wanting to venture into the actual overhead lift right away. It’s easy enough - just find the right distance, the right speed, and remember not to let your body go limp in Sunghoon’s hands.

But when you’ve gotten the hang of it, and Sunghoon tells you to try the complete lift, you freeze. You just stop right in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes. “This is too scary, I can’t do it.”

To your surprise, instead of letting out an annoyed sigh or rolling his eyes, Sunghoon smiles. His eyes go soft and the corners of his lips tug up.

“What’s scary?”

“Falling. Getting hurt, hurting you,” you say, looking into his eyes with the hope that he’ll make all your anxieties go away.

“Don’t think about those things. Don’t think about anything, just trust me. Let yourself be picked up first, and then we’ll worry about your form and how to keep it, okay?”

“O-okay.” You walk a few steps back to regain some distance, and he nods reassuringly as you take a deep breath in, and a deep breath out. You run to him, and as if his words had gone straight from his mouth to your limbs, you let him lift you - and the world looks so different from this high up.

You marvel at the feeling of floating in the air, but you quickly start to feel yourself slipping forward, and Sunghoon is yelling “Hold it, hold it!” and before you know it, you’ve dipped forward and fallen right on top of him. Thankfully, it was a slow fall, and he had time to soften the blow, so that the immediate reaction from the both of you is to burst into laughter.

You roll over so that you’re laying on your back next to him and rest your palms on your stomach, feeling it shake with laughter. Once you’ve calmed down, you turn your head towards him and he imitates you a second later. You probably look like idiots, out-of-breath and smiling widely at each other in this field, but there isn’t a thing you would change about this moment.

“Do you know what the best place to practice lifts is?” he asks, and you watch how his dimples disappear and reappear as he talks. You shake your head. His dimples deepen. “The water.”

You change locations again, heading back towards the current and finding the lake it stems from. You and Sunghoon turn your backs to each other as he takes his t-shirt off and you, your denim shorts, not wanting them to weigh you down in the water. When you turn back around, you have to force yourself to detach your eyes from his perfectly defined abs and shoulders thanks to years of dancing and physical exertion almost every day. You stare out at the lake like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen so much water, otherwise you’d be gawking at him like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen a man. Your cheeks burn up when you feel his eyes on your legs, taking your half-naked figure in, and he chuckles as you rush to hide yourself in the water.

Once in the water, you practice the actual lift, which consists of Sunghoon hoisting you high above his head and you keeping a straight posture, with your arms perpendicular to your body and your chest slightly lifted as if you were truly soaring through the air. It already looks difficult, and yet it’s even harder than it looks. It does help being in the water because at least you’re not scared for your life when you lose your balance and dive forward, but you let out a yelp nonetheless each time it happens. Sunghoon keeps on telling you to hold your posture, but each attempt ends in you falling into the water and bringing him down with you.

You drift apart and swim back towards each other every time, your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands coming to your hips to get back into position for the lift. You’re having a lot of fun, too much fun, probably, when the performance is just a day away - but getting to see Sunghoon’s smile and hear his laugh as you play around and try your best at the lift makes it worth it. When the strap of your tank top slips over your shoulder, you notice out of the corner of your eye Sunghoon’s hand reaching for it just as you put it back yourself. He plays it off by raking a hand through his wet hair, getting it out of his eyes, and smiles shyly at you when your gazes lock. You have no idea what’s going to happen after the performance, if you’ll stay friends or if he’ll pretend like this never even happened - all you know is that you’d be happy doing this all summer.

“One last time?”

-

And just like that, it’s late Saturday afternoon and the performance is just an hour away. You barely eat or speak during dinner, partly out of nervousness, but mostly because you want your lie of having a headache and needing to rest in your room more believable. Chaewon had said she’d help you put your dress on and get ready before the show, so when you’ve escaped the dinner table, you rush to her cabin.

But just as you exit the building, an old woman you recognize as Mrs Jung walks in. She must be surprised at your sudden appearance because she slightly bumps into the door and drops her bag. An unusual amount of wallets fall from it, but you don’t think too much of it - you’ve seen rich people do weirder things. 

You bend down to help her gather her things, and she chuckles lightly, thanking you. “Such a sweet girl, isn’t she, Harold?” she says to her husband who had appeared behind the door as well. You wish them a nice evening and part ways, gushing to yourself over how cute old couples are as you head to the Chaewon’s cabin.

She does your hair, pulling it into a tight bun and securing every stray strand with a bobby pin. You have no experience with makeup since it’s always been off-limits in your house, so she expertly applies eyeshadow, mascara and lipstick to your face. The sticky feel of it is unfamiliar but once you look in the mirror, you almost can’t look away. It’s still you, of course it is, but the bright colors make you look glamorous, like performing in front of a large crowd is just routine for you. You thank Chaewon, a huge smile on her face, and watch her own light up in relief that you like the makeup.

As she zips your dress up, a flowy baby pink dress she got out of her closet just for you, you repeat back all the instructions Sunghoon has given you over the week to make sure you remember everything. “I just gotta keep my head up, keep my core and my arms straight, follow the mu-”

“Thank you, Baby,” Chaewon quietly interrupts, and the slight tremble in her voice and the vulnerability with which she looks at you lets you know she really means it. You stop your declamation immediately and smile at her, kindness in your eyes.

She looks down and tries to find her words. “You know, I- I just want you to know that I, I don’t sleep around, and Heeseung, I really thought he loved me, and-”

You can see the tears already forming in her eyes so you bring her into a tight hug, resting your cheek against the side of her head. “I know, Chaewon, don’t worry. And even if you did sleep around, it wouldn’t matter, Heeseung should take responsibility no matter what. We’re all here to help you. Don’t worry.” You lean back to hold her face in your hands and try to give as reassuring a smile as you can.

“I’m scared, Baby,” she whispers, trying to calm her sobs to get the words out.

“Everything’s gonna be fine, Chaewon,” you say, and you hope she believes it as much as you do. “Everything’s gonna be just fine. You’ve got Sunghoon, and Jake, and you’ve got me too.” 

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. When she opens them again, she grabs your hands and shakes them between the two of you, mirroring your smile. “Okay, okay,” she murmurs. “Sorry, this isn’t the best time for me to break down. You feeling ready?” she asks, and even if it’s just for now, you’re glad she’s feeling better and got to let her emotions out.

“Not at all, I’m so nervous. I don’t want to mess something up and let you or Sunghoon down,” you admit, your smile wavering for a second.

“Whatever happens, you won’t let us down,” she says, squeezing your hands. “It’s amazing, what you’re doing.” 

You can’t help but look away at her words. “It’s the least I can do,” you mumble.

“No, Baby, you’re doing more than most people would. And Sunghoon, he might have his own way of showing it, but he’s extremely grateful for you,” she says, and it puts a smile on your face.

“By his own way of showing it, do you mean not showing it at all?” you joke.

“That’s Sunghoon for you.” You giggle quietly together, but her eyes drift to the clock on the wall behind you and she lets out a sigh. “It’s time, Baby. And don’t worry, I know you’ll do amazing,” she says, bringing you into a brief hug.

You’re so nervous, everything that follows is a blur - leaving Chaewon’s cabin and sneaking over to Sunghoon’s car, the drive to the Sheldrake Hotel, the staff there leading you backstage, and finding your spot on the stage. You only snap out of it when the curtains lift and a voice booms from the speakers in the room, announcing “Sunghoon Park and partner dancing the mambo” as the audience breaks into polite claps.

The music starts, and Sunghoon can immediately feel the tension in your body. He trails his fingers all the way down your arm to your waist, just like you’d practiced a ton of times before, and he uses the proximity between the two of you to whisper “Relax” into your ear. “Just follow my lead, you’ve got this,” he says, loud enough for only you to hear, and extends his arm to send you spinning. 

You manage the first few steps, trying to let go of your anxiety, but it’s got a tight grip on your body and makes your stomach twist. You think it’s all over when you mess up a turn, going right instead of left, but Sunghoon’s quick to whisper “over here” and you find your way again. “Look at me,” Sunghoon says once you’re facing each other again, and you lock eyes with him. And for some reason, that works - focusing only on him makes you feel like it’s just the two of you in the room, just like so many times this past week, and it dissipates all your nerves, makes your muscle memory kick in. You finally let him lead you and follow the music, thinking of nothing but Sunghoon and dancing together.

And yet, when it’s time for the lift, you freeze again. You find your position and run to Sunghoon, just like you know you’re supposed to, but you can’t let him lift you, your limbs turning into lead in his hold. Thinking quickly, you come up with another step on the spot, hoping it isn’t too obvious to the audience you just messed up. Sunghoon takes the lead again, and the rest of the performance goes smoothly, the other moves and the smaller, easier lift realized perfectly by the both of you.

You finish off the number, and the sound of the applause directed at the two of you fills you with a pride you’d never felt before, a feeling much more satisfying than any good grade or won argument ever had. Another sort of daze fills your mind now, and it makes you feel like there’s a small cloud under your feet so that you’re floating instead of walking everywhere. It almost makes you miss the Jungs, but when you see the old couple slowly walking out of the room, you’re scared you might be done for.

You rush back to the parking lot with Sunghoon, whooping in excitement as soon as you're out of anyone’s earshot. In the backseat, you change out of your dress and back into your regular clothes.

“God, that was- that was amazing, I can’t believe you get to live this every week during the summer, it was just- my God…” you say, struggling to get your right hand through the sleeve of your blouse.

“Yeah? Did you have fun?” Sunghoon answers, a smile on his face that turns into a gulp when he sees your half-naked body in the rearview mirror. He can’t help but risk a few more glances, hoping you don’t notice.

“I did, I really did, but I- I messed up that one turn, and I didn’t do the lift-”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sunghoon says firmly. “You did real good, Baby.” And after a beat, he adds: “Thank you. You did real good.” Your eyes lock in the mirror but you look away before he can catch sight of your reddening cheeks.

“And oh my God, there was that couple, the, the-”

“The Jungs, right? Yeah, I saw them too,” Sunghoon chuckles. “I got so scared.”

“Right? Me too! They won’t say anything, will they, do you think?”

“Probably not. I don’t think they even recognized either of us.”

You button your jeans and climb your way over to the passenger seat next to Sunghoon, grateful for the lack of headrests in his car. It suddenly grows quiet between the two of you. You want to ask whether you’ll keep meeting now that you’ve done your part, but you’re afraid Sunghoon might want to have nothing to do with you from now on even if it doesn’t seem like he dislikes you anymore. So you stay silent, watching out of the window, sometimes turning your head towards Sunghoon and catching his eye, then smiling at each other shyly.

Something in you is screaming at you to reach out to him, brush a hand over his hair, interlace your fingers with his - any kind of touch. You thought the ball of nerves in your stomach would disappear after the show, but it’s still there, and it’s taken hold of your entire body now, the anticipation of whatever is to come almost unbearable. You notice Sunghoon’s gaze ping-ponging between you and the road, and the tightness with which he holds the steering wheel, and you dare let yourself hope, just a little bit, that he shares those same wild thoughts jumping around your mind.

When you reach the parking lot next to the staff quarters, Sunghoon is quick to get out of the car, while you rub at your eyes and lips, trying to get as much makeup off as you can. Your parents would most likely be in bed by now, but just in case they were still up, you didn’t want them to catch you with bright red lips and blue eyelids. Sunghoon walks around to your side and opens your door for you, even grabbing your hand to help you out of the car. Once you’re out, he takes your other hand in his, facing you as he walks slowly backwards, and with the way he’s gazing down at you, you think those unspoken thoughts might finally come into the light. But before either of you can say anything, you hear quick footsteps rushing towards you, and a familiar voice calling out to Sunghoon.

He swings around to find a panting, alarmed-looking Jake. “Sunghoon, it’s- it’s Chaewon, something went wrong, she’s not feeling well-”

Neither of you need to hear more before you’re running to the cabin, reaching it in record time. There’s way more people than there should be in and outside Chaewon’s room, all watching and doing absolutely nothing except for another girl you recognise as part of the dancing crew holding a wet cloth to her head as Chaewon, her face covered in sweat and her eyes shut tight in pain, moans and mumbles incoherently, slightly delirious from fever. The girl at her bed steps aside when she sees Sunghoon approaching, and he kneels next to Chaewon, holding her hand in both of his and reassuring her as best she can.

“It’s that doctor,” Jake starts, “he was so shady, had a folding table and a dirty knife, and I- I heard screams coming from that room, Hoon, awful screams, and I tried getting in and getting Chaewon out but they wouldn’t let me-”

What’s obvious to you right now is that Chaewon is in desperate need of an actual doctor, and nobody here can provide that for her, so you rush out of the room, and, as fast as your legs can carry you, run to your father and wake him up in a hurry, grabbing his doctor’s bag. You’re glad for your father’s blind trust in you - other than an instinctive “Is Seeun alright?”, which you nod your head at, he doesn’t ask any questions, just sees you need his help. He listens to your unclear and frantic explanations of what’s going on as he follows you to the staff cabin. 

“Alright, out of the way, everyone, give the girl some space,” your father says as he enters Chaewon’s room, the way he carries himself and speaks instantly commanding obedience from the group. People filter out as he takes Sunghoon’s spot next to Chaewon, checking her pulse and temperature. “Who’s responsible for this lady?” he asks without looking away from his patient.

“I am,” Sunghoon says, taking a step towards him. “Is she gonna be okay?” He seems so distressed you want to take him into your arms and tell him it’ll be okay, but you can’t do that - not here, not in front of your dad.

Your father turns his head to take a look at Sunghoon, his expression unreadable, then turns back to Chaewon, leaving Sunghoon’s question unanswered, floating in the air ominously.

He makes you all leave the room, and you wait for what feels like hours until your father finally comes out, his briefcase in hand, and announces that Chaewon just needs some rest and then she’d be okay. He lets Jake thank him and shake his hand agitatedly, but once again just stares Sunghoon down and ignores him when he tries to do the same. He takes you by the shoulder, making you walk away with him without saying goodbye to anyone. He’s silent for a few moments, waiting to have gone down a few steps before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is tense and almost trembles with anger.

“Is this what my money paid for? I’m disappointed in you, Baby. You’re not who I thought you were.” He doesn’t even let you defend yourself, just keeps walking without looking at you. “I don’t want you to hang around those people anymore, do you understand?”

“But dad-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he says firmly, and the slight increase of volume catches you off guard. Not once has your dad raised his voice at you, or at least not since you were a child - that’s how you understand how truly upset he is at you. He finally turns around to look at you, his eyebrows furrowed. “And get that stuff off of your face before your mother sees it.”

The rest of the walk back to your bungalow is done in unbearable, utter silence, and you can’t wait to be away from your father and the anger pouring off of him in waves. But that silence doesn’t seem to go away, even when you finally reach your bed, even when your sister starts snoring quietly, completely oblivious to the events of the night. The silence grows so loud in your ears that it creates a fuzz all around your brain, making your head throb and blurring your thoughts, rendering them incomprehensible. The sheer weight of it forces your eyelids closed even though you don’t feel tired at all - there’s too much going on in your mind for you to fall asleep.

There’s the relief of your father having helped Chaewon, and the knowledge that she’ll be okay thanks to him; but there’s also the image of his disappointed expression etched into your brain and the words “You’re not who I thought you were” playing on a hellish loop. There’s the worry he won’t ever see you the way he used to, that you won’t be his little girl anymore, but there’s also the satisfaction of that exact thing, the liberation that comes with your father finally realizing you’re not perfect and make mistakes too.

And then there’s Sunghoon.

There’s Sunghoon, and his concern for Chaewon’s safety, his love for his friend that he’s known for years, the hurt on his face when your dad didn’t shake his hand, and the way he quickly retracted his own thereafter, a defeated expression like he was used to such disrespect. But before that, there’s his dimpled smile and sharp canines you find weirdly endearing, the carefree sound of his laughter after you fall on top of him in the water, his warm hands guiding you from step to step, the quick glimpses he throws your way when he thinks you’re not looking but hopes that you are. Even before that, there were the ice-covered walls he put around himself and his friends that could melt as quickly as they could freeze back up, until finally one day he opened the door for you to come in. There was the elegance in his moves and the feeling like all the air in the room had evaporated when you watched him dance, only for it to fill you back up when he took you by the hand and showed you how to let yourself go for the first time.

The fog in your mind clears at the thought of him, like sunlight forcing its way through gray clouds after a thunderstorm. You need to see him.

You need to check on him, to make sure he’s feeling alright, and laugh with him if he is or cry if he isn’t. You need to hold his head between your palms and graze a hand through his hair and do and say all the things you’ve been wanting to this week.

You climb out of your bed and grab the first cardigan you see, then slip your shoes on and make your way to the front door. You try to be as quiet as possible, but once outside, you hang back just for a few moments in case anyone has heard you leaving, so that if they come to check, you can just say you’re getting some fresh air on the front porch. No one seems to stir so you rush to Sunghoon’s cabin. It’s past midnight and the only light guiding you is that of the stars and the bright moon up above.

When Sunghoon opens his door, he seems at once relieved and surprised to find you there. “Baby,” he simply says, gazing down at you. He looks so tired, you think. The performance at the Sheldrake was just a few hours ago, but it already feels so far away.

“Hey. Can I- can I come in?” you ask, slightly out-of-breath from your walking so fast.

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” he says, turning his body to let you in his cabin. Since your first time here, that night you’d found Chaewon crying in the kitchen, you’d learned more about this place. Thanks to his seniority here, Sunghoon has a separate studio-like cabin further down the path where all the staff bungalows are, and it’s bigger than most of them, even though it’s still just one room that accommodates his bed, a closet, a desk, a sink and some other chairs, shelves and drawers.

A soft song is playing in the background and the main light is off, the small lamps here and there providing enough light for you to see. You hadn’t at all thought to look around when you were here last, so you’re curious to really see what Sunghoon’s living space is like.

You walk further into the room, taking in your surroundings and reveling in all the traces of Sunghoon’s life - discarded clothes here and there, a stack of record players from the early fifties to now, posters of movie stars and famous singers, some photos of him with Jake, Chaewon and other members of the entertainment team. He looks around like he’s seeing the room for the first time too, maybe trying to see it through your eyes and imagining what you could be thinking of it. He picks up clothes from the floor and from an armchair only to throw them in his closet, gesturing for you to sit down, and rubs the back of his neck in what seems like an embarrassed gesture.

“It’s not much… you’re probably used to a lot better…” he says with an apologetic tone.

“No, no, it’s great,” you say quickly, not wanting him to feel embarrassed. You look at him with a smile. “I love it here.”

He mirrors your smile, letting out a shaky breath of relief, then sits down at the edge of his bed, too far away for   your liking. The tense atmosphere from earlier in the car is back, filling the room with the silence of a thousand unspoken words. A beat passes before you speak up. “I’m sorry about the way my father treated you, Sunghoon. It wasn’t nice.”

Sunghoon looks genuinely shocked upon hearing your words and starts to shake his head fervently. “No, no, your father was great, the- the way he took care of Chaewon, I could never do anything like that in my life, he was amazing.”

“Yes, but I’m talking about you, Sunghoon, not Chaewon. He completely ignored you, he should have treated you with more respect.” His eyes find yours, and the look on his face like he wants to believe you but can’t quite bring himself to makes your heart ache.

He chuckles and lets his head hang low, looking down at his hands. “Why should he? I’m- I’m nothing,” he says quietly, so quietly that you think you might have misheard, because never in a hundred years would you have thought that someone like Sunghoon could think so lowly of himself.

Your surprise makes it hard to gather your words and say something coherent, but you try your best. “What- Sunghoon, how could you say that? You’re not nothing, you’re- you’re everything,” you say, the last word coming out breathy.

He looks at you like he’s never heard those words before, never had somebody tell him he was so much more than he thought he was - but maybe that’s because he’d never told anyone how he really felt. A pained expression flashes across his face, and you’re scared you might’ve said the wrong thing but his next words reassure you that that’s not it.

“You don’t understand… One month, I’m living off of scraps and struggling to make ends meet, and the next, rich ladies are stuffing hundred dollar bills in my pockets and giving me the key to their room. Everywhere I am, people just use me to get what they need. My dad basically forces me to work with him and doesn’t give a crap what I really want, the women here use me to escape the boredom of their lives, and Max and his asshole grandson Jay just want me to make as much money as I can so they can get even richer.” His voice gets louder the more he talks, the anger getting to him. He chuckles darkly, but his expression softens when he catches your gaze. “I have to live like this. If I start thinking I deserve more, that I- that I’m everything, like you say, I’ll never be satisfied. I’ll always want more. I can’t handle that.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t be that way,” you say quietly, shaking your head and looking at him sadly. You don’t know how to make him see that for the joy he brings everyone who gets to see him dance, for the care and safety he gives the people he loves, and the way he’s made you feel like you can finally escape the thoughts in your head, he deserves everything he wants in the world. You don’t know how to make him see his worth and the respect he deserves as much as anyone else.

He smiles at you wistfully, like he can see his own, long-gone, naive hopefulness on your face. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Baby. You look at the world and you think you can make it better.”

It’s your turn to chuckle humorlessly. “Yeah, I run to my daddy, like you said.”

“No,” he says firmly, his tone catching you off guard. “No, that took a lot of guts, doing what you did. I love that about you, you just go ahead and do things. You didn’t even know Chaewon, and yet you learned a whole professional routine in a week just because you wanted to and you could. And now you risked your relationship with your father just to help her out once again. You- you’re not scared of anything!”

“Me? I’m scared of everything!” you cry out, suddenly standing up, the emotions boiling in your stomach making you unable to sit any longer. “I’m scared of the disappointment in my parents’ eyes, of failing school, of being stuck in a life I can’t escape from…” Your gaze travels around the room before it settles on Sunghoon once again, your gazes locking each other in so tightly you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to look away. “But most of all,” you continue, voice shaky and desperate, “I’m scared of leaving this place and never, ever feeling again the way I do when I’m with you.”

His jaw tightens and he has to force himself to look away from you, his eyes focusing on a random object in the corner of the room. With the way he huffs air through his nose and tenses his whole body, he almost looks angry, but you know that’s not it - finally, after a week of torturous hesitation and not-knowing, you understand how Sunghoon feels about you. He feels just like you. All those lingering gazes, those small shocks of electricity whenever you touched, those loud heartbeats at his constant proximity, he felt them too, and it drove him crazy too; you’re sure of it.

Or at least, almost sure of it. And there’s only one way to confirm your suspicions.

Sunghoon thinks you’re not scared of anything, so you’re going to prove it to yourself. You take a step towards him, then another one, and another one, until you’re standing right in front of him. You extend a hand out to him and he doesn’t question it, just takes it and rises, now towering over you as you had over him just a second ago. You’re as close as you usually are when you dance together - or perhaps a bit closer than that.

“Dance with me,” you whisper into the space between your bodies.

“What, here?” he whispers back, finally looking at you. His gaze lingers in your eyes before dropping to your lips, his pupils slowly dilating - there’s your confirmation. 

“Yes, here,” you reply, echoing your conversation on the tree trunk, which somehow was only yesterday.

You wrap your arms around his neck just as his hands come up to hold you by the waist. It’s a position you’ve found yourselves in a hundred times by now, but tonight, it feels so different. The air around you is charged with electricity and all of your moves are purposeful, trying to make the other feel all that you’re feeling with just a touch.

Tight in each other’s arms, you sway to the slow rhythm of the music, your head resting in the crook of his neck while his hands travel from your waist, to your shoulder blades, back down to your hips. Even with two layers of clothing between your bodies, the feeling of having him so close sends shivers down your spine, even though your skin burns everywhere it comes into contact with him. Your breath makes goosebumps appear on the side of his neck, and when his grip on your hips tightens, you take it as a green light to start pressing faint kisses to his skin. He bunches the fabric of your blouse in his hands, slowly pulling it from the confines of your jeans and over your head, making you raise your arms. He makes a ball out of your top and throws it somewhere across his room, his attention fully taken by the sight of your now half-naked body. He immediately discards his own t-shirt, putting his hands back on you as quickly as he can, as if scared you might suddenly disappear.

You go on dancing together, bodies moving in harmony, as if you’re one being rather than two. You let your hands travel over his shoulders and chest and rest them on his stomach as you lean your upper body backwards, trusting him to hold you while you circle your way back to him. When you do, his hands roam down to grab your ass and hike one of your legs around his hips, the friction of your pelvises rubbing together eliciting a heavy, relieved sigh from both of you.

Finally, your lips find each other, and you kiss like you’re each other’s sources of oxygen. Of course, Sunghoon is one of, if not the best, kissers you’ve ever had the honor of sharing a kiss with, because how could he be anything other than perfect? The way he kisses is intense and a little bit messy, and it ignites your whole body, making you crave only more and more until you’ve had everything you want. Your hands and his are restless, endlessly drifting over each other’s bodies, grabbing at shoulders or hips or strands of hair.

He walks backwards to his bed, never once breaking the passionate embrace, until the back of his legs hit the mattress. He sits, spreading his legs wide enough for you to stand between them. His face is right at the level of your chest, and the way he looks up at you as he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses there makes your insides burst and the fire in your core burn harder. Keeping eye contact with him is too much to handle, so you close your eyes and let your head back slightly, grazing your hands through the soft locks of his hair and simply enjoying the feeling of his mouth on you. His warm hands roam your lower back before traveling north to the clasp of your bra. He undoes it but doesn’t take it off - instead, he calls your name, and it’s never sounded better than on his lips.

“Baby?”

“Hm?” You look back down at him and find in his eyes a sort of lustful, dreamlike daze that you’re sure must reflect your own perfectly.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks breathily, wanting to be certain this is okay for you, but sounding like it’d be the death of him if you said no.

You smile softly and take his head in your hands. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

He smiles too, exposing his sharp canines and pretty dimples, and sighs of relief. “Thank God.”

Your bra comes off, and you almost laugh when his pupils blow out at the sight of your naked chest, but your amusement dies, cut off by a loud moan as soon as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, twirling his tongue around and sucking on the sensitive bud before moving on to the other one. One of his hands rests on your ass while his other arm is wrapped around your waist, and his grip on your waist tightens every time you make a sound that he particularly appreciates. You’re pulling at his hair so much, you’re almost scared of hurting him, but truth be told you’re too focused on the way his mouth feels on you to really be careful about it.

“Come here,” he says, voice hoarse. His jeans aren’t doing a very good job of hiding how hard he is, and he groans at the sudden contact when he pulls you down into his lap. You press kisses everywhere you can - his cheeks, the crook of his neck, his hair, before finding his lips once again. You don’t even realize you’re grinding yourself against him until he breaks away from the kiss to let out a quiet moan, and you bury your face in the dip between his shoulder and his neck, breath hot against his skin as you whine in pleasure.

You could do this for hours, and maybe you do - but at some point, you start needing something more and your core throbs, desperate for more attention. And what better way to communicate that to Sunghoon than to show him exactly what you want?

You unwrap your arms from around his shoulders and let your hand roam down to the waistband of his jeans, smiling shyly at him as you get down on your knees in front of him. He watches with a pained expression, like the anticipation of what you’ll do next actually hurts him, as you unbutton and unzip his jeans, then slide them along with his boxers down his legs. To distract from the fact that his size slightly intimidates you, you take him in your hand right away, circling his reddened tip with your thumb before starting to bring your palm up and down his shaft while your other hand rubs his thigh.

You’re absolutely breathtaken by the sight in front of you: Sunghoon’s abs tensing visibly at your ministrations, his head hung back and his neck and Adam’s apple flushed red on display for you, moans increasing in volume as you continue. You had a feeling Sunghoon wouldn’t be a quiet one, and you’re proud to be proven right.

You put your own needs aside for now, just wanting to see Sunghoon in as much pleasure as you can give him. You bring your head forward and lick a stripe up his length, satisfied when he lets out his loudest moan so far. You don’t tease for too long, only licking at his tip for a bit before taking more of him in your mouth. You keep one hand at the base of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the part you’re able to reach. 

This is the first time you’ve gotten so much pleasure from giving - maybe because Sunghoon’s reactions feed your ego, maybe because you’re so obsessed with him that knowing you’re making him feel good is enough, or maybe both. Definitely both.

But Sunghoon doesn’t let you have your fun for too long, and soon pulls your face gently away from him. His flushed face and fucked-out expression is gratifying to say the least. You look up at him with a smile, rubbing his thighs with your palms as you wait for him to catch his breath.

“A minute longer,” he says, panting, “and I would’ve died.” You giggle at his dramatics and hoist yourself back up, about to position yourself again on his lap but Sunghoon has other plans. He lays you down on your back and comes to rest on his side next to you, holding himself up on a forearm; that way he has both full access to and full view of your face and body. Perfect.

His face is close enough to yours to press kisses there and on your neck while his hand makes his way down your body. When it reaches the waistband of your jeans, you don’t wait for him to say or do anything and undo them yourself, which makes Sunghoon smirk.

“Impatient, are you?” he teases.

“You’re one to talk,” you bite back with a smile, even though your cheeks start to burn.

He slips a hand under your jeans, and gathers slick from between your folds before starting to rub small circles on your clit with the pads of two fingers. He soon gets frustrated from the way your clothes restrict his movements, and whispers in your ear, “Might as well take everything off while we’re at it, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes at his playful tone but comply, more than happy to undress if it means he can touch with more ease. And indeed, he wastes no time before slipping a finger inside you, smirk widening at the loud half-gasp half-moan you let out at the feeling. “Much better,” he whispers again, but any comeback is wiped from your mind as he adds a second finger in, curling them so that they hit just the spot. You’re drenched at this point, your arousal sticking to the inside of your thighs, but that only makes it easier for him to slip his fingers in and out and means you’re more than ready for him. He keeps his thumb on your clit so that the friction there doesn’t stop either, and it isn’t long before you start to feel that familiar knot twisting your insides, appearing much quicker than you’d like it to.

“Sunghoon- I’m gonna, I’m-”

“You are, huh?” he breathes against your neck in between kisses. And just like that, as if you’d told him to stop and not that you were about to finish, he slips his fingers out of you, watching your reaction with a devilish, amused smirk.

“What? No, no-” you whine, but it’s no use. He rolls away from you, opening the drawer in his bedside table to retrieve something, and he’s lucky it’s a condom, because you might have killed him if it was anything else.

“Just because it’s our first time, I’m making you cum on my cock,” he explains as he rips open the small packet and puts the condom on. He comes back and places himself over you, pressing a kiss to your cheek and aligning himself with your entrance. “Next time, you’ll cum on my fingers and mouth as much as you want, Baby.”

And then, he pushes in.

You don’t need to tell him to go slow, or to wait before he starts moving; he knows. He holds himself up on his hands, biceps tight, and watches your face carefully for any sign of pain or discomfort while he furrows his way in, inch by inch.

When he finally bottoms out, he presses a soft kiss to your glistening hairline and bends down to whisper in your ear, “I’ve been thinking about this all week, and it’s even better than I imagined.”

The corners of your lips tug upwards, but the feeling of Sunghoon filling you up like this makes your brain go fuzzy and you can’t even begin to form coherent words or thoughts. You grab on to his biceps and shoulders as he starts to move back and forth, slowly at first, but progressively picking up speed, your moans egging him on.

He takes one of your legs and hikes it up around his hip, allowing him to go deeper and hit that spot that has you arching your back and crying out. You’re clawing at his back, eyes shut tight and mouth going dry, and his fast, regular rhythm is bringing you to the edge once again. Either Sunghoon has terrible timing, or he knows precisely how close you are and wants to tease you, because he slows down and pulls out. “I just want to make it last a bit longer,” he explains, murmuring the words in the crook of your jaw and neck before pressing a kiss there.

He pushes himself away from you and sits up on his bed, his back against the headboard. He looks at you with a lopsided smile, and when you position yourself on his lap, you take a couple moments to admire him before taking him again. His hairline beads with sweat, his face and upper body are flushed a light red color, his breathing is quick and shallow, mouth slightly agape, and his eyelids are heavy with lust, eyes almost closed. He’s never looked so good. 

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” he asks, and you smile both at the compliment and at the fact that you were thinking the same thing about him just a second ago, as if you shared each other’s exact thoughts. You shake your head, and his gaze turns loving as he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Baby. There. Said it.”

You kiss him passionately before taking him in your hand and raising yourself on your knees to guide his tip towards your entrance, keeping eye contact with him as you sink onto his length. The new position hits even more sensitive spots and makes the two of you moan simultaneously. 

Deciding to let him rest for a bit, you start moving yourself up and down on his cock, quickly settling into a nice rhythm that doesn’t tire your legs out too much but still manages to make you see stars. You hold onto Sunghoon’s shoulders, hands sometimes grabbing onto his hair while his stay firmly planted on your ass, kneading the soft skin there. You try to hold his gaze for as long as you can, but the pleasure starts to overwhelm you and you can’t do anything but shut your eyes, head falling back as loud moans escape your lips. There’s no way you could have kept it quiet, so you’re extremely grateful that Sunghoon’s living quarters are far enough away to avoid an audience.

Despite the immense pleasure of being on top of him and of choosing your own rhythm, your thighs start to hurt after a few minutes of this. Thankfully, Sunghoon notices your decreasing pace and the way your legs falter, and takes things into his own hands, finally ready to stop edging and bring the both of you to your ends. One hand on your lower back, one arm wrapped around your shoulders, he presses your chest firmly to his, hugging you tight, and starts bucking his hips into you at a pace that has you crying out into his shoulder. Your hands find purchase in his hair, pulling tight enough to hurt at the roots. If Sunghoon stops, it might be the death of you, so even if it’s a struggle to get the words out, you want to let him know how you feel.

“Fuck, Sunghoon, right there, please don’t stop, please- oh, my God!”

The sound of your two bodies coming together is lewd, but it only adds to your bliss, and in just thirty seconds of this, the knot in your stomach breaks loose and sends your whole body trembling against Sunghoon’s. He’s not long after you, the sound of his name over and over on your tongue as you cum sending him tumbling over the edge. You feel hot tears streaming down your face at the relief of finally having come undone, and the sounds leaving your lips now are fainter, your body too weak to even make any noise. 

You stay like this for a few moments, body limp on top of his, allowing your breaths to return to normal. You’ve had two boyfriends before, and they were the only two you’d ever had sex with, so it’s not like you had already discovered everything about the joys of sex, but you knew for sure that it didn’t always feel like this, didn’t always take you to heaven and back. Usually, you’d have stood up and cleaned yourself by now, but with Sunghoon, you never want to leave this spot. Fall asleep like this, wake up like this, stay as long as you wanted like this. But after a few minutes, Sunghoon stirs and you jolt out of your daze, getting off of him, wincing slightly at the sensitivity between your legs. 

He slips from his seated position and lays on his back. You follow suit, turning your body towards the ceiling, suddenly feeling shy at the idea of touching him, of getting closer - or maybe scared that he’ll suddenly want to be left alone, or worse, never want to see you again. But all your negative thoughts dissipate when he shifts to his stomach, sliding slightly down the bed to rest his head on your chest, burying his face there, hugging your waist tight, and letting out a contented sigh. Although your heart swells at his ridiculously cute actions, to say you aren’t a bit surprised would be a lie - after seeing a leading, more dominant side to him all week, since he was the one teaching you the dance and guiding you through the moves, you had thought it would translate to the way he was in bed. Yet, he had let you do what you wanted, let you set your own pace, as much as he had himself. And now, he was perfectly happy seeking out your affection and not making you come to him. It made you appreciate him that much more.

One of your hands makes its way to his back, grazing your fingernails along the expanse of it, while the other plays gently with his hair. You fall asleep in record time, perfectly at peace and exhausted from so much exertion.

-

When you wake up a few hours later, you’re still laying on your back, and although Sunghoon has drifted away, probably due to the heat in the room, your legs are still intertwined and he’s got an arm resting on your midriff. There’s nothing to let you know the time, so you look out the window and notice with panic that the sun has started to rise, which means it must be close to six a.m. You try to shake Sunghoon awake, but he just grumbles something incoherent and hugs you tighter to him, which you absolutely would have swooned over if you didn’t need to get back to your bungalow - and so you shake him harder.

“Sunghoon, wake up!” you say, far too quietly for it to actually wake him up, but he looks so cute asleep that it’d break your heart to wake him up too harshly.

“Why…” he whines, face buried in your neck and voice coming out muffled.

“I don’t want my father to notice that I’m gone,” you say, the aftertaste of the words bitter in your mouth.

“Why, what time is it?” he asks, slowly coming to his senses.

“I’m not sure, but he never wakes up late, so I don’t wanna risk it.” Your father, needing a real break from intense work days, had started waking up at 6:45 instead of 5:30 every morning. How relaxing.

“But I want you to stay,” Sunghoon grumbles, and you bless him for speaking your own thoughts but also curse him for making it harder to leave.

“I know, so do I. But I’ll see you later, okay?”

A beat. “Fine,” he sighs, then pushes himself off of you. He doesn’t look at you while you put your clothes back on and walk out of the room, but you know he can’t have fallen asleep again so quickly, so you’re terrified of having said or done something extremely wrong, but you can’t take it back now, so you just close the door behind you and rush back to your own bed.

The breakfast table is completely silent, the tension between you and your father clear to your mother, who doesn’t say anything, scared of accidentally adding fuel to the fire, and even to your sister, who eats her grapefruit quietly, darting her eyes back and forth between the three of you. Jay shows up from only God knows where and, not even trying to read the room, asks cheerfully what you’re all planning on performing at the show.

“We won’t be at the show,” your father says, making everyone’s heads snap towards him. “We’re leaving tomorrow morning, miss the weekend traffic.”

“We haven’t discussed this, honey,” your mother says just as Seeun whines, “But Daddy, we’ll miss the show!” You keep quiet, pretending the overcooked scrambled eggs on your plate are the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen. 

“It’s the biggest night of the season!” Jay chimes in, also trying to persuade him.

“Yeah, and I wanted to sing something!” your sister adds.

Your father looks back and forth between your mother’s and sister’s bewildered faces, then sighs and begrudgingly bows to their wishes. “Alright, alright, it was just an idea.”

A smile breaks on your mother’s face and Seeun clasps her hands together with a small noise of joy. “Perfect,” Jay exclaims, pointing a finger at you as he walks away. “Baby, I’ll need you for props.”

“So, Seeun, what songs do you have in mind?” your father asks and gets up, gesturing at your sister to follow him, although he looks completely uninterested. She practically jumps up from her seat and starts listing all her song ideas, leaving her half-finished breakfast behind.

You finish eating your own, making small talk with your mother for long enough so that she isn’t suspicious of your trying to escape, although you can tell she knows something is up and just won’t mention it. You thank her silently for it, and excuse yourself from the table to go check up on Chaewon.

When you get to her room, she’s still in bed, but isn’t sleeping and doesn’t look in pain anymore - she’s sitting up, flicking through a fashion magazine. She smiles brightly when she sees you at her door, discarding the magazine and extending her hands out to you.

“How are you feeling?” you ask as you take her hands in yours, crouching next to her bed.

“Much, much better,” she says, sounding relieved at her own answer. “You just missed your father. He’s an amazing man.”

You only have time to talk for a minute when the door opens once again to reveal Sunghoon. Seeing him creates a pit in your stomach, either from the memory of what you did last night or from the way you had to escape soon thereafter. You stand up straight, taking a few steps away from Chaewon. He looks at you briefly before turning his attention to her, and asks the same question you did moments prior.

“I’m feeling a lot better. Baby’s father says I’m still able to have children.”

“That’s great, Chaewon, that’s amazing,” Sunghoon says, sounding relieved.

“But what about you guys? How did the show go last night?” she asks, a hopeful expression on her face.

Sunghoon glances at you, and you avoid his gaze as best you can. “It went well,” he simply says, not explaining any further. 

“Yeah, I didn’t do the lifts, but other than that it went well.”

Chaewon looks at him, then at you, and all at once notices the awkward tension in the air - and she understands the situation as clearly as if it had been written out in black and white for her.

It’s silent for a few seconds until you speak. “Well, I guess I better go then… I’ll see you around.” You give Chaewon a small smile and head to the door, letting your eyes linger on Sunghoon before slipping out. But of course, you can’t actually bring yourself to leave, and sit on the stairs a few meters away from the door. From where you are, you can hear every word spoken inside the cabin.

“Sunghoon,” Chaewon starts.

“So, you’re feeling better, huh?”

“Sunghoon.”

“But you should still get some rest, right?”

“Sunghoon, stop it.” That shuts him up. “What are you doing? You’ve told me so many times not to get mixed up with them,” she says, sounding at once worried and reproachful.

“I know what I’m doing, alright?”

“Sunghoon, listen to me you gotta stop it, you know it’s not gonna end well-”

“I said I know what I’m doing,” he snaps, but seems to immediately regret it. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Chaewon, I just- you’re in no position to be worrying about me right now. I know what I’m doing. I trust her.” There’s a small silence, and you have no idea what expression Chaewon must be wearing right now. Is she unsure, satisfied, worried, angry? Is she nodding, trying to respect his decision, or looking like Sunghoon’s making the biggest mistake of his life? “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll see you later, alright? Rest up.”

“Alright, see you later, Hoon,” she says quietly, and when Sunghoon opens the door, he finds you waiting for him. You stand up and just look at him, unsure how to express what’s on your mind. You’d completely forgotten everything you had meant to tell him.

“Oh, hey, Baby,” he says upon seeing you.

“Hey.”

You both just stand there, staring at each other, no idea how to start the much-needed conversation.

“Look, I’ve got a uh, a lesson I need to go to right now, so…” he trails off.

“Right, right, no problem,” you say, nodding far too vigorously.

“But I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, you will.”

Neither of you move for a few moments, and you feel like you’re completely stuck in place, unable to move until you’ve had the reassurance that things can stay as they were between you and Sunghoon. But he walks past you, already a few meters away when you gather the courage to call out his name, and he turns around so quickly, you dare to hope he might have been waiting for you to do so. You don’t say anything, you just smile, and hope he understands. He smiles back, an actual smile where his dimples appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle, and you know that for now at least, everything is okay.

-

“God, I am so sick of this rain,” your sister complains as she dabs powder on her face, covering up non-existent blemishes. All four of you are in the living room of your bungalow, resting after lunch and getting ready for the rest of the day. You and your father play a boring game of checkers, trying to make the tension disappear slowly, while your mother reads some detective novel.

“Where is my beige iridescent lipstick?” Seeun asks furiously, punctuating each of her words, as if that was the kind of everyday thing that lies about in everyone’s house.

Your father wins the game and looks relieved that it’s over more than anything. You pick up a light raincoat and head towards the door, but your mother calls out your name, stopping you in your tracks.

“Where are you going in this weather?” she asks with curiosity rather than wariness in her voice.

“They’re playing charades in the main lobby,” you reply casually, used to giving out random excuses by now.

“Quite the little joiner, are we?” your sister teases, and you’re not sure if she’s just making fun of you or if she knows you’re up to something but you ignore her anyway and walk out of the cabin.

You make your way to Sunghoon’s place as quickly as you can to avoid the rain. You had ran into him that morning and, when your parents weren’t looking, he let you know that he was free all afternoon with a smile that was as good as a spoken invitation.

He brings you into a hug as soon as you’ve closed the door behind you and presses a kiss to the top of your head, murmuring an apology into your hair. “I’m sorry I acted so awkwardly yesterday. You left so suddenly that night, and I was scared you regretted it…”

You lean back and gaze into his eyes. “I regret absolutely nothing, Sunghoon.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh, smiling as he nods. “Good. Me either.”

You press your lips to his, and although the kiss starts out slow and soft, it doesn’t take long for things to heat up. You let out a small yelp when Sunghoon lifts you up and carries you to the bed, laying you down gently on the mattress. He holds up to the promise he’d made the other night - namely, making you cum on his tongue and fingers as much as you want, or rather, as you soon find out, as much as he wants.

He starts by undressing you slowly, taking his time to revel in the sight of your naked body and the idea that it’s all for him. He only leaves your panties on, rubbing small circles over your clothed clit as he works his mouth on your nipples and breasts, paying each side its due attention. He then makes his way down, leaving warm kisses everywhere he can from your stomach to your inner thighs, and makes sure to work you up and have you squirming before actually slipping your panties off and giving you what you want. Once he’s wrapped his lips around your clit, it’s like he can’t get enough. With two fingers inside you, he sucks and licks at the sensitive bud for what feels like so long that you don’t know how his wrist and jaw don’t get tired. You don’t even try to count the number of times he makes you cum, simply taking every orgasm in stride, and even though you get so sensitive after a while, you’ve entered some sort of blissful, exhausted daze that you can’t bring yourself to break away from.

Afterwards, you’re lying next to Sunghoon, your head resting on his chest and grazing your fingernails up and down his arm while he plays with your hair. You’ve somehow managed not to fall asleep despite the tiredness filling your entire body, and you and Sunghoon talk quietly, the sound of the rain outside like a peaceful background song. You listen to him describe his dream of opening a dance school someday and choreographing professionally, then he listens as you talk about all the places you want to visit and the things you want to learn about the world. You share childhood memories and awkward first kiss anecdotes and compare your relationships with your parents and the similar sort of pressure they put on your shoulders, albeit for two very reasons.

“My dad especially, he just doesn’t understand that dancing can be an actual profession. He sees it as some kind of hobby I’ve had since I was a teenager and that it’ll pass soon when I realize I can’t make a living out of it. He completely ignores the fact I get paid more in three months here than in half-a-year with him, but he doesn’t mind taking the part of my salary I give our family when I come back, that’s for sure,” he chuckles humorlessly. “I’m scared he’ll think I’m betraying him if I don’t take up his carpentry business.”

“I was top of my class in elementary school, and my parents thought that meant I was the brightest little girl in the world and would grow up to achieve great things,” you explain in a joke-admirative voice. “And even if they tried not to say anything, I could see the disappointment on their faces when I brought home a B or was ranked third at a test. I’m happy I got into Yale, and that they can afford to pay for my studies, but it’s just gonna be even more pressure for four more years.” After a beat, you decide to add, “I can only forget about all of this when I’m with you. You just make all of my worries disappear for a while.”

The conversation takes a slightly sentimental tone as you tell each other what your first impression of the other was. You admit sheepishly to Sunghoon that you were attracted to him as soon as you saw him dancing with Chaewon that first night, and that you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him after he danced with you, even though you found him a bit of an asshole the first couple of days he taught you the dance. You tell him you were sure he hated you at first, and he reveals that he didn’t at all.

“But I can see why you thought that. I just… I had never met anyone like you, Baby. Someone who thought she could just show up somewhere and decide to help a stranger out for no other reason than to help them out of the kindness of their heart. I didn’t know if you were the most foolish or the bravest person ever. And yeah, I’ll admit, I wasn’t the nicest to you at first. I kinda have this thing against… against rich people, I guess,” he says, chuckling softly. “For me, a wealthy person is like Max, or Jay, or all those ladies here. They use their wealth to get you to do what you want. But you’re not like that, and it took me a while to understand that. I’m sorry,” he finishes, pressing another kiss to your hair.

“No, no, it’s okay… I’m sorry they’ve all treated you like that. You deserve better.” He thanks you quietly and a comfortable silence settles between the two of you for a few minutes and you’re close to falling asleep when Sunghoon calls out your name.

“Hm?”

“What’s your real name?”

You raise your head to look at him and flash him a big smile. It’s been ages since someone asked you that, most people not bothering to question your nickname.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N…” he echoes, gazing at you lovingly. “It fits you perfectly.”

You press a gentle kiss to his lips in response, and you think it’s gonna end at that, but Sunghoon pulls you back in right as you’re about to lean out, and you know you’re done for. You’re still extremely sensitive but that only adds to the pleasure of him filling you up, intertwining your fingers with him as you make love, his thrusts slow but deep and your bodies pressed flush against each other. Your heart is bursting with something that you can only recognize as love.

-

That night, as you’re on the verge of falling asleep, your sister says something that jolts you awake.

“I’ve decided to go all the way with Heeseung,” she says, a hint of a smile in her voice. 

You snap your head towards her. “What? Seeun, no, you shouldn’t-”

“I’ve already thought about everything. I want it to happen on the night of rehearsals, I know what I’ll wear-”

“No, Seeun, listen, you can’t do it with Heeseung, I’ve already told you he’s bad news!” you whisper-scream, trying to get some sense into her head without your parents overhearing.

“Who else with, then?” she whisper-shouts back.

“Just- I don’t know, but not with him, it needs to be with someone you actually love, someone you can trust-”

“I can trust Heeseung. I do trust him - more than I trust you, actually,” she says, the conversation taking another turn.

“Seeun-”

“No, Baby. You don’t actually care about this, or even about me. All you care about is that you’re not Daddy’s little girl anymore. He listens when I talk now.” She turns her back to you with a huff.

“Seeun-” you try again, but she’s already done talking.

“Goodnight.”

You want to find a way to stop your sister from wasting an important experience like having sex for the first time on a guy like Heeseung, but you also know that once she’s set her mind to something, it’s hard to stop Seeun from doing it. Maybe this will be a lesson for her to learn from, you think, trying to reassure yourself.

The next afternoon, when your parents are busy playing cards with another couple and Seeun is off somewhere with her friends, you sneak off to visit Sunghoon in his dance classroom. He has an hour free in between classes and you use that opportunity to mess around for a bit. You put on a song you both love and dance together whichever way you want, acting out and lipsyncing to the lyrics. You have fun teasing him by swerving your head when he leans in for a kiss or trailing your hand along his arms, shoulders and back.

The sound of loud footsteps coming up the stairs spoils your fun, and you quickly position yourself face to the mirror and pretend you’re practicing basic mambo moves while Sunghoon heads to the record player. The one and only Jay stands at the door and seems to falter for a second at seeing you here.

“Hey, Baby, taking dance lessons?” You simply nod at him. “I could teach you kid,” he says, mirroring your moves and dancing a few steps until Sunghoon makes the record scratch, stopping the music abruptly. Jay’s arms drop to the side and he gives you a look as if to say “check this guy out,” and you try not to roll your eyes at him. 

“Sunghoon,” he says, walking towards him with all the confidence of a boss talking to his employee. The addressee simply raises his chin at him, pretending to busy himself with the record player. “My grandfather put me in charge of the talent show, and I’ve been thinking about the final dance. I’d like to uh, you know, do something different-”

“Yeah?”

“Move with the times-”

“Yeah? That’s great, I’ve got plenty of ideas-” Sunghoon says, speaking so quickly he cuts himself off, but Jay’s smile drops instantly. “We’ve been working on something with the staff, it goes like-”

You watch in the mirror as Sunghoon dances a step you’ve never seen before, and it looks really cool but Jay shakes his head, gesturing at Sunghoon to quiet down like he would a kid, as if they weren’t the exact same age.

“Woah there, you’re way over your head, boy.” Sunghoon stands up straight once again, jaw locked tight. “I was thinking, instead of doing the last dance to the mambo, how about, this year, doing it to the pachanga?” Jay asks, looking at you with a smile and nodding, as if he’d just said the most revolutionary thing ever.

“Right,” Sunghoon says coldly, bursting Jay’s bubble.

“Well,” he says, clearing his throat, “you’re more than welcome to do the same tired number as the previous years, but I’m sure that next summer, we’ll find a dance instructor who’s-”

“The pachanga,” Sunghoon cuts him off, raising his voice over Jay’s. “Great idea, Jay, let’s do that.”

A satisfied smile grows on Jay’s lips as Sunghoon turns back to the record player, and he struts back towards you. When he’s close enough, he leans in and says conspiratorially, but still loud enough for Sunghoon to hear, “He’s, uh, a bit hard to get through to sometimes, but the ladies seem to like him.” He doesn’t realize that you’re one of said ladies. “Make sure you’re getting the full half-hour you’re paying, kid,” he says once he’s at the door, and slips out on that graceful note.

Sunghoon’s next class takes place on the gazebo, so you accompany him there, trying to keep up with his long strides made quicker by his frustration. “God, I just hate that guy, he has no idea what he’s talking about. He wouldn’t recognise a good idea if it hit him in the pachanga,” he huffs angrily.

“But can’t you just talk to him? I’m sure he’d listen if you’d just tell him-”

“Didn’t you see what happened, Baby? He won’t listen. I can’t get everything I want just by asking, he’s the one with the money, with the power, I can’t do anything-”

“But it isn’t right! You have to fight harder-”

“That’s not how it works for me, Baby-”

You let out a small gasp, interrupting Sunghoon whose head pivots towards you, but you take him by the shoulders and bring him down to a crouch next to you. He follows your gaze to find your father, leaving a building with Heeseung and Seeun. Your dad brings his arm around Heeseung and shakes his shoulder in a fatherly manner while Seeun looks at them with a smile. 

Sunghoon’s muscles tense in realization - you don’t want to be caught with him, especially not by your father. 

You’re completely oblivious to this, and stand back up when the three of them are out of sight. “Alright, I think they’re gone,” you say, and only realize what you’ve done when you see the tight expression on Sunghoon’s face.

“Fight harder, huh?”

You just messed up real bad. “No, Sunghoon, I was planning on telling him, I just haven’t yet-”

“I don’t believe you, Baby. I don’t think you’ve ever had the intention of telling him,” he says, shaking his head. His eyes look down at you harshly, and it hurts so much more now than when you’d just met. 

“Sunghoon, please-”

“I gotta go. I’ll see you later, Y/N.”

You watch Sunghoon’s shrinking figure, cursing yourself for your cowardice and for your inability to do exactly what you preach. Your father was already so disappointed in you for simply being friends with Sunghoon, so if he knew what you were actually up to, he might go and disown you.

A few hours with no one to spend them with get you thinking. You had always thought your father was the best man on earth. Funny, loving, kind, fair. But you now realize it might not be so - he is prejudiced towards people who aren’t like him and isn’t forgiving of others’ mistakes. He made you believe in a world where everyone should be equal, but he himself doesn’t treat everyone the same. 

You also hate what this is doing to Sunghoon. You, who had told him he deserved everything he wanted, weren’t even capable of holding his hand proudly for everyone to see. So, for Sunghoon’s sake as well as for your own, you have to tell your father how you feel for Sunghoon, and put up a fight if he tries to stop it.

But first, you had to find Sunghoon and apologize. It’s nearing dinnertime, and he shouldn’t be working anymore, so you go look for him in his room. He isn’t there, so you head to his dance studio, then the gazebo, and anywhere else you can think of where he might have classes. But he’s nowhere to find, and after half-an-hour of running around, your last option is to go ask Chaewon where Sunghoon might be. At least, you know she’ll be in her room, still recovering.

You take a second to catch your breath then knock on Chaewon’s door, then wait until she calls you in to open the door. “Hey, Chaewon, have you seen Sunghoon?” you ask, only realizing after you’ve said the words that it might be rude to be so direct, but you don’t have time to apologize because your eyes shift to the other person in the room, who is, of course, Sunghoon himself. He stands up from his seat on the armchair in the corner, looking at you with an unreadable expression. He could be anywhere on a scale where one extreme is ‘he hates you and never wants to talk to you again’ and ‘he has never been so relieved to see you’ and you’d have no idea.

“Can we, um, talk? Outside, if it’s okay?” you ask, eyes darting back and forth between Sunghoon and Chaewon. She smiles and jerks her head towards the door, silently telling Sunghoon to go with you. He purses his lips and nods, following you outside and closing the door behind him.

He rests his palms on the banister of the front porch, looking out at the lawn and the resort buildings in the distance. You stand behind him, bringing your palms up to his arms and kissing his shoulder. He closes his eyes and sighs, basking in your touch despite himself. “I’m sorry, Sunghoon. I’m sorry.” 

He turns around, gazing down at you with that unreadable expression on his face. “It’s okay. I understand.”

When he kisses you, the relief in your bones is like nothing else, better even than coming home to your bed after a long, tiring day, or than getting a good grade on a test you thought you’d failed. Your arms wrap around his neck while his find their way to your waist, and you revel in the closeness of your bodies and the taste of his lips, like mint and something uniquely Sunghoon that you can’t ever get enough of.

But unfortunately, you stay long enough in this position to attract the attention of a one-man audience. “Damn, guess I picked the wrong sister,” you hear Heeseung chuckle, and when you pull away from Sunghoon, you see that insufferable smirk on his face. How you wish you could just smack it off of there. “Didn’t know you put out like that, Baby.”

It all happens so quickly, you don’t have time to understand what’s going on, let alone stop Sunghoon from jumping over the banister. He stomps over to Heeseung, grabbing him by the collar and shaking hard. 

“Repeat what you just said, I dare you,” he says in a low, menacing voice, face close to Heeseung’s. The latter’s smirk falters for just a split second before coming back, as if incapable of not looking like an arrogant asshole for more than a few seconds at a time.

“I said,” Heeseung starts, “that I hadn’t thought Baby was so fucking easy.”

Heeseung has barely finished speaking that Sunghoon has raised his fist back, ready to strike the insolent expression off of the boy’s face. It’d be satisfying, that’s for sure, but it wouldn’t be worth risking his job, so you call out his name and make him stop in his tracks. He doesn’t look back at you, though, just keeps his hard gaze fixated on Heeseung, breathing heavily in anger.

“Sunghoon, please,” you repeat, pleading with him. 

“So, what’s it gonna be, loverboy?” Heeseung teases, but Sunghoon just drops his fist and pushes him away, making him stumble a few steps back. 

“You’re not worth it,” Sunghoon practically spits, sending one last cold look his way before walking back to you.

You don’t care enough to check how Heeseung reacts, just watching Sunghoon make his way back to you, relieved nothing happened. He stands in front of the banister, the height difference allowing you to hug his head to your chest and you press a kiss to the top of his head, whispering in his hair that you’re proud of him.

Soon afterwards, you have to head back to the building where the talent show will happen. He could do it anywhere else, but Sunghoon decides to plan out his performance in the same room, using the excuse of needing to see the stage just to stay around you. 

You’re painting some sort of fake coconut tree while competitors rehearse their performance, your sister by far the loudest of them. You try not to cringe as her dissonant voice reverbs around the room, but nobody pays her too much attention. It’s hard not to steal glances every two seconds at Sunghoon, and you tell yourself that he just looks especially good today in his tight black t-shirt and black jeans, but you also know he looks good everyday. His gaze also strays towards you more often than not, and you try not to burst into giggles every time your eyes meet, not wanting to raise any suspicion. 

This room is also where a group of men play their games of poker, and since it was big enough to host all of you, they had decided to stay there even through the preparations, sure that it wouldn’t disrupt their game. 

The not-staring takes on another level of difficulty when a lady you recognize as Vivian Kim leaves her spot standing behind her husband at the poker table to make her way to Sunghoon, walking in a fashion far too languorous for your taste. 

From where you are, you can’t hear exactly what she says, but it’s not hard to guess - an invitation to spend the night with her while her husband is busy, one last time before she leaves the resort and goes home.

Sunghoon stays silent but that doesn’t seem to deter her, and she flashes him a lurid smile before walking back to the poker table. He turns his head to check if you’ve seen what happened, but you look away from him and back at your coconut tree, hoping the jealousy you’re feeling isn’t written all over your face. 

Vivian’s husband calls out Sunghoon’s name, waving him over good-naturedly. You watch once again as Sunghoon walks over to the table and as Mr Kim pulls out dollar bills from his wallet. “Tonight’s the final poker tournament, so how about some dance lessons for my wife?” he asks, and you can’t tell from his tone whether he thinks that dance lessons really are what his money is paying for or if he knows what’s actually going on.

Sunghoon takes the money and Mr Kim smiles at him, returning to the game, but Sunghoon just stands there, staring at the bills in his hands, then to Vivian, behind him to you, and finally back at Mr Kim. “Thanks, Mr Kim, but I’m all booked up for the rest of the week ‘cause of the show, so I don’t think it’d be fair to take the money.”

Mr Kim nods as Sunghoon hands him back the cash, saying he appreciates his honesty. Vivian looks at him, eyes wide, obviously surprised at his sudden refusal. Sunghoon walks back to his seat, sending a small smile your way, and you try your best not to gloat. 

-

In the past few days, it’s become a bit of a habit to sneak out of your bungalow and rush to Sunghoon’s when your family has gone to sleep. Except tonight, what you don’t know is that Seeun hears you, because she’s planning on doing the exact same thing and paying Heeseung a visit. You’re already with your own lover when she heads out of the room, skipping in excitement and anticipation the whole way there. She’s applied lotion to her entire body, sprayed perfume to her neck, wrists and ankles, and has read all the sex advice columns of her favorite magazines - she’s more than prepared for this.

She reaches the door. Takes a deep breath in, stands up straight. Calls out, “Heeseung, it’s me!” but no answer comes. So she opens the door slightly, and almost drops her bag at the sight in front of her, gasping loudly. She has just enough reflex to close the door again and rest her back against it, taking a few seconds to let it sink in before running back to her bed, where she promptly explodes into tears.

Now more than ever, she wishes her sister was here, whether to comfort her or to say “I told you so.” She wishes you were here to help her make sense of finding Vivian Kim and Heeseung naked together in his bed when he had spent weeks making her believe he wanted to be with her and her only. She wishes you would curse him out and call him all the names she wants to but doesn’t have the courage to.

But unfortunately, you’re not there with her. Instead, you’re with Sunghoon, laying together in bed, your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwined. You’re both spent from a night of lovemaking and from your shower that was supposed to be innocent but quickly turned steamy. You wake up at dawn, knowing you’ll have to go soon but heart breaking at the thought of tearing yourself from Sunghoon’s warm embrace. You press soft kisses to his neck and whisper his name, trying to wake him up gently. His eyes stay closed as he tightens his arms around you and pleads with you to stay just a little bit longer, and you’re not strong enough to say no.

“I had a dream earlier where your father called me ‘son’ and put his arm around me like he did with Heeseung earlier.” His morning voice is raspy from sleep and sends butterflies straight to your stomach.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you hum. “I’ll talk to him today. I’ll tell him about you.”

You feel his chest rise up then down as he sighs. “I thought about it, and I feel like it’d make things even worse if he knew about us. He just seems to think I’m a bad guy, for some reason, and me being with his daughter will only make him hate me more.”

“But you’re not a bad guy. You’re the best guy,” you say, voice slightly whiny. You’re too sleepy to come up with a better reply, and it makes Sunghoon chuckle.

“Thanks, Baby.” He presses a kiss to your hair, and it’s become such a familiar gesture that you’re not sure how you’ll live without it once you go home.

It’s not long before you have to head back to your bungalow, and Sunghoon walks you outside, slotting his lips with yours for one last time this morning and making plans to meet up later. You don’t pay attention to anything other than him - not to the slight breeze picking up, or the sun rising, or the staff bungalows, off to the side from Sunghoon’s. But not paying attention means not noticing a figure standing on one of those staff bungalows, not seeing her eyes squinting at yours and Sunghoon’s embrace, first recognising him, and, once her initial shock wears off, recognising you. Because of course, just like you, Vivian Kim has to leave Heeseung’s bungalow before anyone notices - except that in your case, someone notices you.

And the consequences of it appear only a few hours later, as your family are having a late breakfast with Max and Jay. When the conversation first begins, you don’t think it’ll be of much importance to you.

“You know that feeling when you look at a patient and think he’s all fine, but then you get his x-rays and something’s completely wrong?” Max starts, addressing your father. “That’s exactly what it is to find out one of your staff, a trusted one at that, is a thief.”

“What happened, Max?” your father asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Mr Kim’s wallet was stolen,” Max simply says, sighing. Jay jumps on the opportunity to explain the story himself, leaning in conspiratorially.

“It happened yesterday night when he was playing poker. One minute, his wallet was right there in his coat pocket, hanging on his chair behind him, and the next, it wasn’t.” Your sister lets out a small gasp.

“Vivian says she saw that dance kid Sunghoon walk by,” Max continues, and your head snaps up at the mention of Sunghoon’s name. “So we go and ask him if he’s got an alibi, and he says he was in his room alone all night, reading.”

Jay snorts. “There is not a single book in Sunghoon Park’s room.”

The whole time, you’re shaking your head slightly, unable to believe that Sunghoon might be wrongfully framed for this. You turn towards Jay, a pleading expression on your face. “Listen, there’s been a mistake, there’s no way Sunghoon did it-”

“There’s been similar thefts at the Sheldrake and even here. Three wallets stolen, and now Mr Kim’s!”

“No, I know he didn’t do it-”

“Stay out of it, Baby!” Jay snaps at you. You look at him in disbelief, because of the way he just talked to you, because of what they’re accusing Sunghoon of, but above all because it’s inconceivable that your parents ever wanted to set you up with a guy like him. Entitled, judgmental, unkind.

But you can’t just stay out of it - this concerns Sunghoon, and if you can stop it from happening, you’ll do everything so that he doesn’t lose his job over a false accusation. So you turn towards your father and Max, and plead Sunghoon’s case.

“I know Sunghoon didn’t take Mr Kim’s wallet, I know.”

“How can you be so sure?” your father asks.

“I-I can’t tell you, but Daddy, please, you have to trust me.”

Your father sighs, turning his attention back to his plate. “I’m sorry, Baby, but I can’t.”

“But- it could’ve been anyone else,” you continue, looking at Max now that your father avoids your gaze. “Maybe it was- oh, maybe it was that little old couple, the Schumachers, I saw her with a couple of wallets-”

“The Schumachers? Impossible,” Max refutes as your father furrows his eyebrows at you, raising his voice slightly.

“You don’t go around accusing innocent people, Baby!”

“But I saw them, I saw them at the Sheldrake- you said something was stolen at the Sheldrake, right?” you say, turning towards Jay again, your voice growing desperate.”

“Listen, Baby,” Max cuts in, voice calm but firm, “I’ve got an eyewitness and the kid has no alibi. Come on, Jay, let me show you how to fire an employee.”

You catch his wrist before he can turn away and gulp, preparing yourself for what you were about to say. “Wait a minute. I know Sunghoon didn’t do it, I know it, because he was in his room all night, and I know that because,” you pause for a second, risking a glance at your father, “because I was there with him.”

The table goes silent. You can feel yourself weighing down under the heavy gazes of everyone seated. After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, Max clears his throat and awkwardly says, “Right, well, we’ll investigate some more in light of these news-”

He’s cut off by the screech of your father’s chair being roughly pushed back. You watch as your father leaves the room, steam coming out of his ears, and you can only hope revealing the truth will be worth it in the end.

After giving your father some time to cool off, you find him in the empty gazebo, looking out at the lake. The water is still except for the parts where ducks dip their heads in and back out. Even now that the rain has stopped pouring every day, clouds still render the sky a blinding white, and the sun only appears now and then when they part enough to let a ray through. There’s a slight breeze that makes leaves flutter around, and you need to tighten your light cardigan around your shoulders.

You know he sees you approaching, but he keeps his gaze fixated on the lake, even when you call out to him. 

“I told you I wasn’t lying about Sunghoon,” you start. “But I’m sorry I lied about the money. I’m not proud of myself for that, you know. But you lied too,” you say, and he finally looks at you, awaiting an explanation. “You told me everyone deserved a fair break, but you meant everyone like you. You said I could change the world, but you meant by becoming a lawyer, or an economist, and marrying someone from Harvard!”

He closes his eyes as if in pain, then looks back out to the lake, staying silent. “I made a mistake. There’s things about me you don’t know, and things you might not like, but I’m in this family too, and if you love me, you’ll have to love my faults too.” Your voice shakes and your eyes start to water. Seeing your father’s eyes do the same only adds to the difficulty of saying what you want to say.

“Because I love you, Daddy, and I’m sorry I let you down, but you let me down too!” Your voice completely breaks on those last words, and you turn away, letting your feet guide you wherever before your dad can hear the sob that escapes your throat. You know your dad’s silent treatment won’t last for long, so you leave him in the gazebo to think and cry as much as he needs to.

Your body must have developed new instincts, because soon enough, you find yourself in Sunghoon’s cabin, unsure how you even got here. His things are still there, which reassures you of the fact that he hasn’t left yet. You pace back and forth in the room for a few minutes until your emotions suddenly come crashing down, all the stress and tension and strung feelings, leaving behind only exhaustion. You lay on Sunghoon’s bed, thinking you’ll just close your eyes for a few minutes. But when you open them again, they fall on Sunghoon’s face, and you have no idea how long you’ve been there.

“Sunghoon?” you murmur.

“I have been looking for you all over,” he says, crouching in front of you, and gives you time to sit up and rub the sleep out of your eyes. “You were right about the Schumachers. Fingerprinted their glasses. Turns out they were wanted in a bunch of other states for theft too. They found them when they were already trying to leave the resort,” he explains, and your smile grows wider and wider as he speaks. 

“Oh my God, that’s amazing! I knew it’d work out!”

But Sunghoon diverts his gaze down, unable to match your euphoric expression. “I’m out, Baby.”

You quickly put two and two together. “They fired you anyway because of me.” 

“And if I leave quietly, I get my summer bonus,” he says sarcastically.

Your anger makes you stand up, walk to one corner of the room then back, your voice rising on its own accord. “So I did it all for nothing, then? I hurt my family, you lost your job anyway - it was all for nothing!”

“It was not for nothing!” Sunghoon exclaims, volume matching yours. “Nobody has ever done anything like that for me!” He searches your eyes for the reassurance that everything that happened this summer was worth it, but he only finds sorrow in them.

“You were right, Sunghoon,” you say with a sad smile, voice lowering to a hum, “you can’t change anything no matter how hard you try.”

“No, Baby,” he says, walking towards you, “I don’t want that from you, you hear me? You can. You can do whatever you want.”

Your gazes stay locked in each other for a few painful moments until it becomes unbearable and you have to look away. “I used to think so too.”

There’s nothing left to say. You watch silently as Sunghoon begins packing the few belongings he has in two small suitcases and a rucksack, then help out when the passivity starts to make your muscles ache. He hasn’t got much, so he’s done in just a few minutes, and you don’t realize you have tears pooling in your eyes until Sunghoon himself notices and wordlessly takes you in his arms.

You’re heading to his car when he suddenly stops in his tracks, saying he has something he needs to do first. You don’t question it, just agree to wait for him. It’s not like you’ve got anything better to do anyway.

A few minutes later, unbeknownst to you, Sunghoon is knocking on your cabin’s door. Just as he’d hoped, your father is the one to open the door, squinting his eyes meanly at the young man behind it as soon as he realizes who he is. Your father stays silent as he stares Sunghoon down, making a chill run down Sunghoon’s neck. He clears his throat before speaking. “Doctor, I-” he starts, already cutting himself off to take off his sunglasses. “I’m going anyway, and I know what you must be thinking-”

“You don’t know anything about me,” your father interrupts, shaking his head in disdain at Sunghoon. “Anything at all.”

Sunghoon had really wanted to stay calm and focused, to just say what he wanted to stay, but now that he’s leaving, he has no reason to put up with the blatant disrespect and contempt of the clients and higher-ups any longer. “I know you want Baby to be like you. An admirable person, the kind people look up to, but if you could just see, she’s already like that-”

“I know my daughter far better than you do, so don’t you tell me what to see,” your father practically barks, unable to contain his anger. “What I see right now is someone who got his partner in trouble and sent her off to some butcher, then moved on to a younger, innocent girl like my Baby.”

Rather than frustrated, Sunghoon’s eyes grow tired and sad. There’s no fight left in him anymore - he can see he won’t be able to change your father’s mind, there’s no point even trying. “Yeah, I guess that’s what you would see,” he murmurs before walking away, back to you, the only person who’s ever wanted to truly understand him.

And then it’s goodbye. 

While you were waiting, you kicked pebbles, brooding over the fact that your already shortening time with Sunghoon was getting cut off even more. But as soon as you see him, those thoughts evaporate, and you’re left with bittersweetness in your mouth. You spent the most incredible summer with him by your side, and even though it’s coming to an end, maybe the experience and the memories are all that matters.

Sunghoon closes the trunk when he’s done packing it, and walks over to where you’re standing, back against the passenger door, arms crossed over your chest. He rests his forearm on top of the car and neither of you are able to look the other in the eye for fear of emotion overwhelming you.

“Guess we took them all by surprise, huh?” you say, trying on a light-hearted tone to dissolve the tension in the air.

“Guess we did,” he chuckles quietly, risking a glance up at you. Your eyes meet and before you can break down, you turn your body towards his, nesting your face in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss to your hair like a hundred times before and it’s enough to make your heart break. 

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you around.”

He rests his chin on the top of your head. “You’ll just have more time for card games and croquet,” he jokes, but you can’t laugh. “And Jake and Chaewon will still be around.” It’s silent for a few more minutes, and you try to commit the feeling of him against you and the smell of his skin to memory. “I’ll never be sorry,” he finally says, voice muffled by your hair.

“Neither will I,” you whisper against his neck.

He inhales deeply and tears himself away, gazing down at you sadly. With his thumb, he wipes a tear as it drops down your cheek, and presses his lips to yours in one last kiss, tasting the saltiness of your heartbreak. “I’ll see you around, Baby,” he says against your lips, forehead resting against yours. But he can’t linger - it would only make this impossible moment even harder.

Your vision is too blurry for you to see properly as he walks to the other side of the car and disappears in the driver’s seat. In a matter of seconds, his car becomes a fuzzy black dot in the distance, and you’ve no choice but to walk back to the place that made you discover love only to rip it from your hands.

-

The three days until the talent show feel like eternity. Counting down the minutes until you leave doesn’t make time go by any faster, but you don’t feel like doing anything else. You hang out with Chaewon and Jake and their friends when they’re free, going back with them to the staff main quarters one night, and even though the music is the same as the first time, Sunghoon’s absence changes everything. You can’t dance without imagining his hands on your waist and his voice guiding you through the steps. 

Seeun is also a lot nicer to you. She tells you what happened with Heeseung, and it’s like your shared love troubles bring you closer, reminding you that you’re not so different after all. As you get ready to go watch the talent show, she sits next to you on the bed, offering to do your hair. But then she takes a strand of it in her hands, trailing her fingers through it, and looks at you with a soft smile. “You know what, I think it looks perfect just like that.” 

You mirror her smile and drop your head to her shoulder. You stay like this for a few seconds, words unnecessary to understand each other. “You’ll do great tonight, Seeun. I can’t wait to watch you.”

“I know,” she replies, making you both giggle. “Now let’s go, it’ll start soon.”

You’re not surprised to see that your parents have chosen to seat you in a corner, trapped between a wall and your father. Practically the same thing, you think, but you’re wise enough to keep the comment to yourself. 

The performers have gathered in a line on the stage, your sister included, to sing the resort’s last day song as a conclusion to the show now that Sunghoon isn’t here to do the final dance. Max even gets his own solo. The song goes on for far too long to your taste, so you take the time to look around the room.

The lights are dim, save for the ones on the stage so that the focus of the audience stays on the performers, and wall fixtures next to the exits so they can be found easily. Chairs have been brought to the center of the room right in front of the stage while tables line the walls, candles adorning each one. Staff don’t get seats - instead, they stand at the back of the room, their backs against the wall as they watch the stage with boredom written all over their faces. You catch Jake’s eyes and he winks at you, a mischievous smile on his face, and you chalk it up to his usual playfulness.

Heeseung walks near your table, and your father stands up, calling out to him. He gets something that looks like an envelope out of his pocket, handing it to him. “Good luck in medical school, son.” Heeseung takes the envelope, looking down at it with a smile, and your father rests a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you so much, Doc,” Heeseung beams. “And I also wanted to thank you for your help with the Chaewon situation, I guess we’ve all gotten into messes like these, huh?” Your father stands with his back to you, so you can only imagine the way his smile falls and his eyes harden.

“What?”

Heeseung’s smile falters slightly and he chuckles awkwardly. “I-I thought Baby told you… Look, it’s what Chaewon said, but I’m not sure, you never know with girls like that, they could pin it on anyone-”

Your father snatches the envelope back from Heeseung’s hands, glaring at him, and walks back to his seat next to you without a word. It’s only now that you understand your father’s dislike of Sunghoon - he had been certain Sunghoon was the one who had gotten Chaewon into such trouble. How could you have missed that? All this time, you thought it was just because Sunghoon was part of the staff and didn’t come from your world. Regret and frustration bubble up in your stomach. So many misunderstandings could’ve been avoided if only you had known what your father thought.

It’s only after a few minutes that he breaks the silence. “I’m sorry, Baby.”

You take a deep breath in. “Thank you, but I’m not the one you need to apologize to, Daddy.”

He turns his head to look at you. “You’re right. You’re right,” he sighs.

Just then, Jake walks past your table and towards the stage, disappearing behind the curtains on the side. You lift your head, trying to see what he’s up to, but the sound of the doors at the back of the room opening and closing loudly catches your attention. It seems to catch everybody’s attention - you hear small gasps and small murmurs of a familiar name, and your mind directly lands on the possibility, but you don’t believe it until you see it standing right in front of you, a hand reaching out to you - Sunghoon’s here.

“Nobody puts Baby in a corner.”

You take his hand and let him guide you away from the table. You’re so enchanted by seeing him again that you barely notice your mother having to keep your father from stopping you. Together, you climb up the small set of stairs, walking past the performers and standing in the middle of the stage, the music stopping abruptly. His voice booms throughout the room when he speaks.

“Sorry for the disruption folks, but I always do the last dance of the season. This year, I was told not to. So I’m gonna do my kind of dancing with a great partner. Not only is she an amazing dancer, but she also taught me that people will stand for other people no matter what it costs them, and about the kind of person I want to be myself. Miss Y/N Y/L/N, everyone.” 

Whoops emerge from the back of the room where the staff are standing and you watch as Sunghoon walks to the side of the stage, discarding his leather jacket and exchanging a nod with Jake. The music starts to play - it’s a song you’ve heard before, a song you know well because you’ve danced to it many times with Sunghoon. It’s a song you love. 

He walks towards you, a smirk on his face, eyes heavy with desire. He places his hands on your waist, your own coming up to his forearm, and dips you backwards in a circle, which elicits more cheers from the dancers. He then stands behind you, imitating the starting position of the dance for your performance at the Sheldrake. The music picks up, and after that, it’s like magic. You and Sunghoon know exactly what to do, a mix of the choreography he’d taught you and of other moves you had picked up when you just danced together for fun. All the steps and turns come to you as if you know this dance by heart, and the whole time, you’re looking into each other’s eyes as they shine with happiness.

Sunghoon makes you spin away from him, and, your arm extended between you two, brings your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss to the back of it. Then, he jumps off the stage, prompting gasps and cheers from all around the room, and makes his way while dancing to the back of the room, where the dancers join him. Seconds before the second chorus is about to start, some of them run to you and help you off the stage, and Sunghoon nods at you from the middle of the room. So you run to him, gathering momentum until you reach him and he picks you up, lifting you from the ground up into the air, and you manage to keep your bird-like position for a few seconds. A huge smile breaks on your face as everybody cheers, your mother and sister clapping excitedly and even your father looking at you, astonished, proud. 

Sunghoon brings you back down slowly, grinning as he gazes at you with only love in his eyes. “I knew you could do it,” he whispers.

The staff starts to invite the guests to dance with them, pushing chairs to the side and getting people to stand up. Jake shows Seeun how to move, reminiscent of the way Sunghoon had done with you, your mother and Jay dance together, and the whole room turns into a dancefloor where couples and small groups can let go and move however they want to. 

You and Sunghoon head to the exit to find a quieter place, but your father calls out to you before you can slip away. “I found out you weren’t the one to get Chaewon in trouble.” Sunghoon simply nods. “I was wrong. I apologize,” he says solemnly, and the corners of Sunghoon’s lips tug slightly upwards.

“Thank you, Doctor Y/L/N.”

Your father’s eyes drift to you, and his polite expression turns affectionate. “You looked great up there, Baby.” You sigh, relief washing over your whole body and alleviating the weight on your heart. You let go of Sunghoon’s hands to wrap your arms around your father’s neck, and he takes you in a brief but tight hug.

“I’ll let you two go now. I need to find your mother, haven’t danced with her in ages. That’s something else I can thank you for,” he says, smiling down at you.

You watch him walk away for a few seconds until Sunghoon takes your hand in his again, and you slip out the doors to the front lawn. Outside, you close your eyes and take a deep breath of fresh air in, laughing for no reason other than simple joy when your eyes meet his.

He leads you to the gazebo and brings his hands to your waist again. The song is nearing its end but you can still hear it drifting through the open doors and windows of the room. You know that even when it’s over, it’ll keep playing in your head - and in your heart.

Just like you’ll always keep Sunghoon there.

You move slowly to the rhythm of the last chorus, gazing into each other’s eyes. You want to enjoy this moment for what it is, but the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow won’t leave your thoughts. This might very well be the last time you and Sunghoon ever dance together, or ever see each other. You can give each other your address and send letters, or exchange home phone numbers and call, but how long will that last? You’ll go to college while he goes home and starts working with his father again, or finds a way to fulfill his dream.

He probably sees the sadness in your eyes and brings you closer to him. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to - you know the same thoughts are cramping his mind. Words are unnecessary, and promises are futile, so for now, you forget everything else, and focus on the sway of your bodies and on his hands holding you tight against him.

Resting the side of your head on his shoulder, you look up at the night sky. The stars are shining bright, unbothered by any clouds, and the full moon gazes down at you protectively. Even when you’re apart, you and Sunghoon will still sleep under the same moon every night. You may be just one of the many love stories she’s witnessed, but you dare to think that yours is a special one, one that can’t be reproduced, one that is uniquely yours.

You continue to dance even when the song is over, letting your bodies bask in the moonlight.

fic taglist: @jaetaimjadore @sleepingsag permanent taglist: @ozymandia-s @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 © asahicore on tumblr, 2023. please do not plagiarize, repost or translate my works. feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[blondbrat]

★ — SLUT !! drew starkey x actress reader

summary - your dating the man of your dreams, drew starkey, your fellow cast member and boyfriend.. but like always, people have to hate on you — the only comment people ever for female celebs existing happily in their relationships ‘she’s honestly just a slut’

warnings - use of y/n, slut shaming, overall shitty comments, stressed!reader

a/n - part of a drew starkey!au I wanna start. inspired by taylor swifts song ‘slut !!’ honestly in love with drew I can’t he’s so perfect :) as someone who’s been slut shamed, I definitely wanted to empathize how hard it is, especially as a woman, just simply living your life and getting hate for it x

If they call me a slut you smiled sweetly to yourself. posting the picture with a click of ur finger, a cute outfit for a fun night ! work had been going on long lately — not that you didn’t love every second of it. it was just tiring, and you were glad u could finally take a breath. just a chill night with your cast members and drew.. god, your smile turned into a cheeky grin as a knock sounded on the door.

you sighed softly, letting the weeks weight finally fall of your shoulders as you clicked off your phone — muting your notifications was an unconscious habit of yours

—instagram / 8:34 pm saturday

y/nprimrose : basketball game group date! their really trying to bet on who’s b-ball team will win, as if it won’t be mine! in all respect, it will be 💞 @*drewstarkey @*rudypankow @*madylncline

drewstarkey baby, my love, sweetheart, we both know what team will win, mine ❤️

↳ obxhasmyheart STOP this kind of relationship >>>

↳ user1 the way he uses the nicknames for y/n 🥺

primrosefanpage how does she always have the cutest outfits?? I LOVE HER

↳ drewsactualgf1 cute, the fuck? I guess if she works as a stripper…

user2 does she always have to have her tits out tho? just like her character wow

↳ drewsactualgf1 slut on screen, slut off screen. a slut in general 🥱

↳ user3 the only reason she was able to pull drew!! like cmon over here mr.starkey, I have tits AND a personality

user5 fucking put on some clothes. drew. deserves. better!!

user4 the fucks wrong with this comment section…

you didn’t glance at your phone once — drew peaking in with his usual grin. god, he was handsome as always. before you knew he pulled you into a cuddly embrace “hi baby, saw your post, you really think your teams gonna win huh’?” you beamed ! wrapping your arms around his neck as you gave him a soft peck — that shut him up quickly ! the night was perfect — everyone riding together as you all laugh and talk, simpering even more hysterically and playfully as the ride went on.

you found urself finally about to just relax. hand in drews as you all walked into the packed basketball building. crowed and buzzing with excitement. grinning sweetly at the array of papperazzi that greeted you, you all were used to it by now ! even posing in some as u four found ur seats, taking a few pictures with fans that seemed to be frozen in shock as u all waited for the game to begin.. you loved interacting with your fans, exactly why you requested normal seats — you loved being able to get to know them, helping them calm down once the realization hits in. it was as much as an experience for you as it was for them

“you look beautiful” drew leaned over and whispered in your ear, chuckling at the bloom of blush that crept over your cheeks. he couldn’t help himself, you did!

before you knew it, the game was starting — the turnover resulting in your team making the first basket ! you and rudy cheered, pocking drew in the side laughing as he rolled his eyes playfully. once more baskets were made and sarcastic laughs extanged, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder — leaning his head against yours as he kissed you on the forehead gently. both your friends too busy joking around to notice the sweet scene.. but it made it all the more perfect. this is what u both needed, just a night to be together ♡

drews arm still around you, you chatted with madayln — both agreeing work has been a lot lately while keeping your gazes on the game. your team was winning ! and you simpered, scrunching your face in mocking triumph as u glanced down at your phone — trying to slyly see if their was only a little amount of time in the game left, which would guarantee your favorite teams win ! but your recent notifications caught your attention instead.. and all you could see were specific words instantly ‘slut’ ‘stripper’ ‘a pair of tits and that’s it’ what the hell?? your face immediately fell, and you clicked on the notifications frantically.. expecting to find a porn scene or something with a woman who looked somewhat like you (which had happened before) not your joking post from earlier.. the picture wasn’t even the main reason you posted it. and let alone.. to get all this hate. for wearing a fucking shirt??

your feed was bombarded with hate after hate. slut, slut, slut and so much worse.. your gut twisted, a strange feeling of guilt and embarrassment fogging your head !! your anxiety spiking !! drew and all your friends were destined to see the post soon enough?? drew commented on it, just before all the comments were posted.. it was humiliating. and u couldn’t help but doubt urself —would everyone agree with the comments? did everyone think of u like that, just a pair of tits?? maybe it was a bit revealing? you’d struggled with these kinds of comments before u got famous.. and after the stress of non stop filming, the one day u finally let urself breath — this fucking happened :(( it was just all too much

your head was spinning — you convinced urself you were overreacting, this happened to all female celebrities atleast once.. but fuck, you never realized how humiliating it was !! until then.. u tried to breathe, and Drew noticed ur tenseness immediately, ur pretty eyes seeming to fall in.. shame?

you shook his hand from ur shoulder, standing up instantly “g-gotta go to the bathroom” you murmured — before drew could even grab your hand you paced away, dodging cameras and people as you slammed the door into the single stall bathroom. you just needed to process.. and hiding with the hopes drew hadn’t yet seen the comments. slut. slut. slut.. for wearing a pretty shirt?

tears began to well up in your eyes, satly droplets — and you wish they didn’t !! just like everything else that seemed to be happening, you had no control over it. your breathing was hitched, fast and panicked as u paced around the bathroom. reading every hate comment like you’d atleast find one that said it was a joke.. it wasn’t.

u were staring at yourself in the golden brimmed mirror — clumpy mascara running down ur face, leaving black stains in their fall. slut. slut. slutyou had just recently came to fame.. ‘slut’ met drew, the man of your dreams ‘slut’ and still, these small (not) things effected u— isn’t it fucked up? how its drilled into woman’s brains that it’s their fault.. for simply loving their bodies and being happy?

your thoughts were interrupted by a banging on the door.. it had been there the whole time “baby! y/n open up! let me in will ya? please baby I’m worried!” your heart melted at his concerned voice, eyes softening as you tried to wipe away ur foggy tears — meeting his eyes as u opened the door. ur best friend, and love of your life instantly swooning u in his arms.

“hey, hey baby look at me ok” he whispered softly, cradling u like he never wanted to let go.. he didn’t. “you scared me sweetheart, running out of there like that.. talk to me” his body was so warm, so hard, so perfect.. your home. and before you knew it you were letting urself breath. meeting his sapphire eyes. “drew.. do you ever-ever fuck do you ever look and me and frown because I look like a… s-slut” you stumbled whispering, adverting your eyes from his. “y/n w-what?!” he squeezed you in his arms even tighter, tilting ur head up to his so gently it felt like a butterfly’s touch. “Did someone say that to you?! someone here?!” he glanced around protectively, his face furrowing intimidatly before softening when he again found yours

“n-no.. just something I posted on insta—“

he didn’t let you finish your sentence — his heart breaking at the crack in your voice.

it wasn’t long before you were leaning agaisnt the sink, still snuggly in his arms as you cried in his shoulder. whispering sweet nothings into your ears as you let it all out — the stressful week, the exhaustion.. and then finally, the post.. the comments

you knew you would never forget the moment drew cupped your face with his hands, kissing the bridge of your nose — the touch so gentle it was like a butterfly. you could see the anger in his eyes, not at your of course, never at you. the fact anyone had the nerve to say such things about his girl, but more than anything, he needed to make sure you understood they were utter lies, being spurred in jealous envy “y/n please look at me babe, they are lies.. you are a beautiful, kind, and fucking incredibly talented actress and singer” you giggled at his empasis, tears no longer streaming down your face as u finally found his eyes “and fuck, the love of my life.. I’m drunk in love with you Primrose, and if some out of millions of people can’t handle that.. do what you do best-“ the words were like soft silk against your skin — drew, smiling softly, leaned down as gave you a soft kiss. “give them the bird, baby” he whispered against your lips, his breath fanning your teary face — eliciting a rapsy laugh from your pretty lungs.. god, he truly was your home

You know it might be worth it for once

—instagram / 12:00 pm Thursday

y/nprimrose : NEW SONG OUT NOW : SLUT !! ps. call me one, it’s worth it ❤️

drewstarkey your such a masterpiece baby, so drunk in love with you primrose ❤️ always doing what you do best ;)

you didn’t bother reading the rest of the comments, to occupied with drews kissing to even care (the song becomes a HIT)

Might as well be drunk in love xoxo

[pinkaditty]

Pink Slush

*timidly tiptoes into my blog but crashes into a comically placed vase and breaks it into pieces and it makes the "oh no, our table!" noise*

looooooong a/n: hiiiiiiiiii............ so it's december! and my last thirst was in october! in my defense... im graduating with a B.S. next semester bro. lots going on woo! but thankfully break is here and all i have to do next semester is research! so ill be active lots more i promise <3 anyways as a thank you for waiting so patiently i have decided that u all deserve a little treat and that little treat is a typical aphrodisiac-induced threesome, except it's between you, Solomon, and Barbatos! IT'S NOT FINISHED but it's in the works so enjoy this little sneak peek of it <3 after this ill work on finishing part 3 of the pervert series and then im answering some asks!

CW: slight dub-con bc u all r under the influence of an aphrodisiac, but otherwise fully consensual, no penetration yet but there is some humping, panting, and lots of men moaning. mc's physical attributes aren't mentioned, so gn!mc.

MINORS DNI PLEASE!! I WILL BLOCK MINOR BLOGS AND AGELESS ONES! PLEASE RESPECT MY BOUNDARY!

It had all started when you, very innocently, asked Solomon if you could participate in his potions-making sessions this afternoon. You didn’t know what he had been making for the past few weeks, but the fat black cauldron had been sitting on his desk for days at a time; bubbling in magenta and overflowing in blue and being his overall first priority when it turned pink. You weren’t even let into his room much anymore, because he’d be so busy taking care of the thing that you couldn’t spend time together. You huffed at his broad chest as you were ushered out a second time, Solomon’s strangely pink lips uttering various excuses of “you being in here is dangerous!” and “something might go wrong!” and “i don’t want you to suffer from any side effects”. His lips were all you could stare at as he continued to mumble something about the potential dangers of the potion and how having a novice around would do more harm than good. Absent-mindedly, he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to your forehead, promising to spend more time soon. You realized that he probably hadn’t meant to do that, because the second you pressed your fingertips to your forehead in shock, his face burst out into a deep pink blush. He coughed and hurriedly turned his head to the side, muttering about the side effects again, apologizing for the potency of the potion, and closing his door. You could still hear his muttering. 

The upside to Solomon’s newfound business was that he no longer had any time to cook as often as he used to, so your favorite demon, Barbatos, was at Purgatory Hall’s kitchen, helping to fix a treat for dessert after having brought leftovers from the castle for dinner. You figured, since Solomon wouldn’t let you in, you’d just go and attempt not to be too much of a burden to Barbatos. Upon reaching the kitchen, delicious smells of ingredients you were familiar with filled the air. You were surprised to discover he had been making commonplace human world dishes today. “Hey,” you start, Barbatos turning to you to acknowledge your presence and give a soft smile in greeting. “What are you making?” You approach with your arms behind your back, not wanting to disturb Barbatos too much. He smiled a little wider at you and turned back to his work. “Trying to replicate human world ice-cream.” Barbatos’s voice was ever monotone, and he often spoke in small half-sentences when he was busy. You never minded. If anything, it was endearing to you. He was always so dedicated to his work, sometimes so absorbed in it he didn’t notice anything outside of it. However, you knew he wasn’t unaware of your staring, and it was obvious in how he moved. You didn’t mention it. “Made cookies to go with it.” He shrugged his left shoulder in the direction of a pan full of chocolate-chip cookies, aromatic and fresh from the oven. You hadn’t even noticed Luke’s small figure before you entered, but there he was at the counter, reaching upwards to feast on a cookie. “Have some. And please prevent Luke from eating them all.” The first two words were said suspiciously close to your ear after you’d turned away to glance in the direction he’d shrugged. You pretended to ignore the heat on the back of your neck and tips of your ears as you approached Luke, gently patting his head. He wiggled and shouted in protest, but ultimately let you, holding your hand in his hair when you tried to pull away. With your other hand, you reached out for a cookie, and ate it rather quickly. Barbatos’s baking was always top-notch, and today was no exception. The buttery cookie melted on your tongue, warm chocolate spreading over your taste buds. You had to stop yourself from reaching for another one and turned Luke’s attention away from the cookies so he wouldn’t eat more. With him safely nestled in the couch next to Simeon, watching a crude human world reality TV show, you found it okay to return to Barbatos’s side. He had already finished the ice cream, so there was no way for you to help in making, but he happily invited you to taste test it. 

He held out a spoon by it’s handle, a large dollop of ice cream on it’s end. You couldn’t decide if he intended for you to eat it or take it first. Without thinking too hard, you leaned forwards and took the spoon in your mouth, gently coaxing the ice cream off of the spoon and into your mouth. Barbatos momentarily froze, almost unnoticeable before returning to his demeanor. His smile was gentle, and his eyes shone with an unreadable expression. You slowly leaned off of the spoon as Barbatos slipped it from between your lips, and turned away to put it in the sink. 

He turned back towards you to watch your expression. You could tell he was curious, but he did not show it. His head was tilted in observation, his classic reserved expression and gentle smile on his face. “How is it, MC?” You are surprised when you hear him speak, jolted from your observation of his features. You nod vigorously, expressing your approval of his attempt. He smiles wider and turns away, preparing for clean up. 

“Ah, by the way, MC.” Barbatos addresses you as he’s turned away. He knows better than to suspect you may have wandered off. “Forgive me for my forwardness, but if I may, what are you doing down here?” You watched him as he moved back and forth across the creamy marble tile of the kitchen, picking up dish after dish, his arms gently flexing with every heavy pan, hands covered in bubble mesh from the soap. “I expected you to be upstairs with Solomon, helping him with his potions today.” You didn’t miss the way his voice grated when he said his name. You sigh amusedly at their fight, hoping Barbatos didn’t hear it. If he did, he makes no move to make it obvious. 

“Solomon won’t let me into his room any longer… He’s making some really intricate potion and it’s been eating up his attention lately…” You pout without realizing it, having wanted to spend time with him after not seeing him often in weeks. You were rather fond of his antics, and treasured the time you spent together, learning all sorts of new magic from him and deepening the bond of your friendship. Sure, perhaps you might be pushing a little hard to spend time with him, but it’d been weeks. That much had to be understandable. 

When you look up, Barbatos is turned towards you, rolling his sleeves down and donning his gloves. The cleaning had already been finished, ice cream placed in cold storage and cookies left out to be ravaged by whoever. You smile at him, his efficiency never failing to surprise you. He smiles back, gently, before returning his attention to his gloves. “Have you heard what it might be?” 

“No, and I really want to figure it out… But he won’t let me in.” You sigh, turning towards the stairs, wondering if a third try today was really worth it. You heard Barbatos approach from the side, looking up the stairs with you. You glanced at him from the side, and you could see the gears turning in his head. Both of you wanted to see him - likely for very different reasons - but wanted to see him regardless. 

“Let us go upstairs.” Barbatos spoke suddenly, and you turned to him fully. “I need to speak with him about the condition of the kitchenware after his atrocious cooking.” His expression was as displeased as you’d ever seen it, his eyebrows quirked downwards, and his lips in a straight line.

A smile spreads across your face and you have to muffle your laughter in your hand, following Barbatos up the stairs. Upon reaching the wooden door of his room again, Barbatos reached out to knock, announcing his presence. There was no answer, if not for the ominous humming of the potion and occasional whooshing and crackling sound of the fire underneath it. Barbatos’s eyebrows quirked in annoyance, and you brought a hand to your lips again, stifling your laughter. Barbatos once again knocked, announcing his presence slightly louder. You piped in as well this time, hoping Solomon would listen. There was still no answer, and Barbatos was becoming increasingly frustrated. You turned to him, about to insist that you come back later, when Barbatos reached out and pushed the door in, having realized it was unlocked. 

The scene that greeted you was expected: Solomon hunched over his potion, which was glowing neon pink on his face, the light highlighting the dark circles under his eyes. His hands were hovering on either side of the potion, as though prepared to grab whatever leaped from the cauldron and stuff it back in. He hadn’t seemed to notice your presence, too focused on the potion. You glanced at Barbatos, who was already storming in, uncaring about his privacy or lack of response. You followed, though significantly more timid, not daring to storm for fear of toppling his potion over. The fumes for it were already potent as you stepped in, and you swung the door shut to prevent it from wafting into the halls. The potion smelled overwhelmingly like a mix of perfume and musk, invading your senses but still rather somewhat pleasant. The smell of it made your body feel warm and somewhat weakened at the joints, like a warm cup of hot chocolate or the arms of a lover securing you in their grasp. You blinked, resisting the cloudy feeling in your head as you looked up. Barbatos was now in conversation with Solomon, likely berating him for the state of the kitchenware, while Solomon occasionally retorted back, still mostly focused on the potion. When Solomon looked up and noticed you, his expression went from surprise to slight frustration, his brows furrowing and his lips quirking down in displeasure. You knew he didn’t want to see you in here, but you waved at him anyway, and he rolled his eyes, attention too split between Barbatos and the potion to force you out. You walked over to where he and Barbatos were speaking, standing just behind them, watching Solomon hover over the pink, bubbling mixture. It was thick and gooey looking, some of it overflowing and dripping down the sides of his cauldron. The smell of musk and perfume was stronger as you got closer to the potion, but still pleasant. 

You don’t quite know what happened next. Barbatos must have said something that made Solomon turn to him, exasperation laced into every one of his features, contorting his expression. As Solomon turned, he knocked an elbow into the edge of the cauldron, and it tipped over, the gas and sludge spilling all over the three of you. 

Your shoes and pants drenched in pink sludge and the rest of you surrounded by a thick pink gas, you only have two seconds to feel displeased before a strange warmth spreads through your body. You swallow roughly at the feeling, heat rising in your cheeks. Your lower body begins to twinge strangely in response to the warmth, and you shudder. When you look up to survey the others, it seems they are in a similar state. Also covered in the pink sludge, but the redness of their cheeks betrayed their outward angered expressions. You wave away the gas, while not unpleasant to breathe, still very intoxicating. You clear your throat once the gas has mostly dispersed, still feeling warmth all over your body. When you try to speak, your voice comes out low and thick with arousal. “What… was that potion?” You hold a hand to your throat, surprised at your own voice. You attempt to clear your throat again, but when you mutter to yourself, there is no change. The warmth continues to build, intoxicating and somewhat suffocating under your clothing. The blush on your face deepens as you shift uncomfortably, everywhere your clothes brush against your skin burning with arousal. 

“That,” Solomon spoke, rather incredulously, thwap-ing a palm against his forehead. “Was… an extremely potent… aphrodisiac.” He spoke slowly, his words punctured by hisses and moans disguised as deep exhales. The sound of his voice was strangely intoxicating to you, and you couldn’t help but notice the pinkness of his lips again, watching his tongue flick against them as he prepared to elaborate. “I was brewing it… for a client… and now, here we are.” He had one hand fisted in the collar of his shirt, pulling it away from his skin to alleviate the growing heat. He didn’t sound angry, but it could have been the nature of the aphrodisiac softening his voice. His breathing was heavy and still punctured by small whimpers. He gripped his desk for support, trying to stay upright. 

You swallowed, watching his lips form these whimpers. You gripped your shirt too, both to distract yourself and to hopefully alleviate the way his actions were entracing. You forcefully turned your head away, towards Barbatos, who was also not in a very good state. It was then that you realized how potent this potion must have been, because even he could not keep himself upright. He was also gripping the other end of Solomon’s desk, unable to stand. His legs were shaking where he stood, and one hand was tugging at his collar. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, breathing heavily and biting his lip. You couldn’t see his face, as he was turned away from you both, but the tips of his ears were a very bright red. His demonic features were beginning to unmask themselves, his tail swaying and his horns sprouting from his head. 

You were not in a good state either. Somehow, you’d lost your balance and tumbled backwards, landing on the edge of Solomon’s bed. You were panting, clutching at your R.A.D. uniform, fingers shakily moving to undo the buttons. The heat was too much. The shifting of your clothes was too much. Arousal blazed within you simply from sitting there, feeling your fingers move across your chest. You grit your teeth and your thighs twitch as you attempt to stave off the arousal and stay still.

“Nngh…” One of Solomon’s tantalizing moans. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut at the visceral reaction you had to his sounds, breathing heavily to calm yourself. When you could stand to, you opened your eyes and turned to glance at him. His face was red with arousal, eyes closed tight as he gently peeled his uniform jacket off of him, attempting to relieve the heat. You watch as it slides off of his shoulders, leaving behind a formal black button up that clung to his torso, slick with sweat and stuffy from the heat. You tried to look away, but couldn’t, enamored with how his fingers began to fiddle with the buttons at his collar, whimpering at the chance of freedom. You watched as his pink lips turned very red when he bit them, stifling his own moans at the feeling of cool air on his neck. 

You were dizzy with arousal. You had barely managed to peel off your own jacket, reluctant to go any further, but the heat seemed to urge you. You squeezed your legs together as your lower body twinged again, this time with more arousal than the last. You let out a strangled breath, gripping at Solomon’s bedsheets. You lifted your chin upwards, determined to resist the urges.

“Haah…” It was unfamiliar, but you could tell it wasn’t Solomon this time. Your eyes flew to the butler as he straightened up, having removed his tie, holding it in his gloved hand before it fell to the floor. Barbatos was leaning against Solomon’s desk, face red with arousal, a hazy look in his eyes. Gripping the desk with one hand, he lifted the other to his face and bit at the end of his glove, pulling it off of his hand. It slid off with ease, and he groaned at the release of heat, the look in his eyes becoming hazier. He removed his glove from his mouth, and there was a small string of saliva connecting his lips to the glove. He wiped it away, and bared his fangs for the second glove. 

Before you could watch him do it again and feel your arousal grow, you flop onto the bed and turn yourself over, muffling your moans with the nearest pillow. You lay your upper body across Solomon’s bed, face buried into a pillow, knees giving way and struggling to keep yourself up.

You did not hear the shuffling in the room, nor the footsteps, nor the hesitant movement behind you, having been too focused in muffling your own cries of arousal into the pitiful pillow. But you do feel when a weight from above presses into you, arms reaching for your chest, and a tongue presses into the back of your neck. You cry out in surprise, gripping the sheets harder and arching your back, feeling your backside hit the peak of someone’s arousal. When a strangled moan and push back are done in response, you know it is Solomon. He pants heavily for a moment before continuing to leave open-mouthed kisses on the back of your neck, lapping at the collection of your sweat and leaning forward to nibble on your ear. You bury your face further into the pillow, beginning to feel short of breath. You couldn’t even think straight anymore. You reached behind yourself for Solomon, lacing your fingers through his scalp and grabbing a fistful, attempting to ground yourself. Solomon moans loudly into your ear, curling his back and snapping his hips forward into you. You hear him pant as you feel the hardened length of him push between your thighs. You squeeze your thighs together, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you feel him continue to press further. His heavy breathing is indicative of his tongue lolling out, and it’s not hard to imagine his eyes rolling back either. Eventually he swallows and stops pressing, relieving some pressure on you and instead burying his face in the crook of your neck, mindlessly lapping his tongue at whatever exposed skin there was. Not wanting the pressing to stop, you pull on his hair again and he whines, pressing forward, face level with yours. You see tears prick the edges of his eyes as he presses between your legs again, feeling him brush against you. You muffle your moans into the pillow and he muffles his into your neck, reaching down to grip at your hips rather harshly, lost in the pleasure. He continues to mindlessly lap at your skin, pressing his forehead into your hair. 

You almost don't notice when the bed dips in front of you, the mattress now supporting three weights. It is then that you remember that you have managed to effectively trap yourself in with an accomplished immortal sorcerer and the most powerful demon in the three realms. Both of which are experiencing major arousal. Including you. 

You force yourself to look up, Solomon still buried in your neck. You were certain you looked a mess, but the stuttered exhale from Barbatos indicated otherwise. Barbatos didn't exactly look a mess, but he was certainly sweaty, disheveled, and full of yearning. His jacket and dress shirt were still on, but both were unbuttoned partway, revealing his neck and upper chest, glistening with sweat from the sticky heat. His mouth was wide open, panting for air, but his lips were curved upwards in a wicked smile. His eyes were shinier than before, glowing just slightly as his tail whipped back and forth behind him. You couldn't say that you weren't somewhat excited at this.

Barbatos began to tremble, leaning forward towards you until your faces were level and his chest was pressing into the bed. He leaned into the sheets, pressing his cheek against the thick comforter. His eyes were watery and he was still panting. You could see his fangs through the small part in his lips. "F-Forgive me…" His voice was low and breathy, and his eyes rolled as he spoke, as if simply exerting energy speaking was costing him. "Forgive me, MC… Every second, it gets… harder…" He suddenly inhaled sharply, gnashing his teeth together, trembling harder before releasing, exhaling heavily. He whimpered softly, closing his eyes and biting his lip to stifle anything further. You watched his face, paying no mind to the lack of movement behind you. You couldn't explain it, but this only made your need swell. His lips, small but soft and pink, were becoming discolored the longer he held them between his teeth. His hair was scattered over the comforter,  blue green strands hanging in front of his clear emerald eyes. His cheeks were red and his skin was splotchy, both from heat and arousal. He did not look as prim and proper as usual, and something about it stirred within you, deeper than the potion effects...

---------------------------------------------------------

a/n: haha and that's the end of that for now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! had this in the works for MONTHS! it's taken my blood, sweat, and tears y'all. i hope you enjoy this for now and i PROMISE i will deliver! it will be late... but i WILL deliver!

[just-jordie-things]

Ohhh then can I ask for 37 prompt with gojo

Cuz why do I feel like this man would have the most awkward crush kiss with his so in high school scenario

went out on a limb and guessed u meant 38 but if u want 37 lmk! <3

38: Awkward Teenage Crush Kiss ___

gojo satoru had no fears. he was the strongest man in the world and he'd known it since he was old enough to know anything. he was overbearing in his confidence, and had been a cocky little shit since he could walk. still, the world bowed down to him, out of respect, out of fright, it didn't matter, they bowed.

being treated like royalty a god came with and odd warping of a young kid's mind. for the first fifteen or so years of his life, satoru would have told you that he loved it, he loved the praise, he loved the admiration, he loved his own force of sheer power- and that wasn't exactly untrue now, now that he was nearing graduation and ready to make a proper debut as a jujutsu sorcerer.

but there was definitely somethind different about him now. now that he'd had a glimpse into the dark realities of jujutsu society, now that he had an understanding of what he was really fighting to protect. his mind was growing, he was evolving, and it had slowly happened before your eyes as you spent your years right by his side, as his classmate, and then his friend, and now...

you'd definitely had some kind of effect on satoru, he'd known that much for a while now. something about your relaxed presence seemed to wrap him up and calm him, too. your usual indifference to his banter or flirting often had him flustered, bewildered by your fond eyes and sweet smile. you actually cared for him, you actually enjoyed his company, and you didn't keep these a secret from him.

you greeted him delightedly when he'd return from missions or join you for lunch, throwing your arms around him with the same excitement either way. had he been gone for weeks or hours it didn't matter, your eyes crinkled with your joy at his presence beside you.

and for the very first time, satoru doesn't know what he's done to deserve such treatment. he can't recall a definitive moment where there had been this shift in your relationship, when he'd started thinking about you even when you weren't there. and he certainly tried to remember, he'd lay awake late into the night racking his memory for what it was he'd done to earn your affections- even if they were friendly. but he never got anywhere, and most nights drifted off to sleep thinking about the warm way you smiled at him, and the sweet way you spoke to him.

it's a few nights before you're going to properly graduate when he finally works up the courage to ask you about it.

(gojo satoru has never had to convince himself to be courageous in his life. he simply was)

you're focused on the movie that the two of you had made plans to watch- the second part of a trilogy you'd been excited about and therefore satoru insisted you made the time to watch them all together- when he breaks the silence with his sudden question.

"why do you like me?"

you give him a double take, at first sending a soft smile his direction having expected a random comment, only to realize what he'd actually asked you, and now you're furrowing your brow.

you kick your legs out across his bed as you mull the query over, as though genuinely trying to find an answer, and satoru frowns when you don't instantly give him a reason.

"do you really need me to tell you?" you ask with a giggle of amusement.

"why else would i ask?" he says with wide, impatient eyes. you giggle again, always finding joy in his company, somehow.

"cause you like praise" you respond honestly. satoru's brows fall as he gives you a bored look, but you just shrug your shoulder before turning your attention back to the movie.

satoru shifts in his previously comfortable position to face you, crossing his legs in his lap as he leans into your personal space.

"you're really not going to tell me?" he whines.

"you don't need me to tell you," you let out a breathless laugh, a little surprised by his antics today. "we've been friends for years, you know exactly why i like you"

"well, you could still tell me" he tilts his head, and you smile in admiration as soft wisps of white hair sweep across his forehead.

"i don't need you to tell me why you like me" you point out, leaning your head back against the wall. satoru pouts, now that you've given up what he was going to use as leverage.

"can you just give me a hint?" he huffs, and your smile widens brilliantly, as though you've never been in a better mood than you are right now.

all of the time you spent with satoru felt like that.

"you're so dense sometimes," you sigh at him. "but you're probably my favorite person on the planet"

that makes him smile- and it makes his face warm, too, which you can see, and you take great delight in it.

"really?"

"really," you affirm in a soft voice. "i like you because you're unlike anyone else i've ever met, and i imagine i never will meet someone quite like you,"

you give in, because it's hard not to when he's looking at you so intently. you wonder if he knows that he has this power over you, or if he's clueless about it, too.

"i like you because you know exactly who you are, and you've never been afraid to be that person," you continue fondly. "i like you because you're the nosiest, most involved person in the world, and you make a great effort in making sure i'm okay, safe or fed or having slept well, you put more time in making sure i'm taking care of myself- and taking care of me when i can't- than you've ever turned around and given to yourself,"

you sit up off the wall now, brows pinching in just the slightest as you think through what you wanted to tell him next. your eyes flicker over his features as you edit and retract words in your mind. satoru looks like he's never focused harder in his life, hanging onto your every word, and then tucking them carefully into a special spot in his chest that must be for you because it warms whenever you're around, by his side or in his mind, that spot seems to buzz with life and excitement.

a smile twitches on your lips before you speak again.

"i like you because the way you treat me- the way you make me feel has helped me learn how to like myself," you muse. "because i know if you see something in me worth sticking around for... then that something must be there"

satoru's heart is hitting against his chest so hard he can feel it in his ears, and he thinks it might just sucker punch it's way through his ribcage and into your hands.

or maybe it's been in your hands all this time?

his eyes flicker between yours as you share shy smiles and nervous, breathless laughter.

yes, he thinks with absolute certainty, his heart has been yours all this time. and deep down he realizes he must've always known it, because you made him feel just the same way.

you'd always been more than a friend, you'd been his person, the only person that stuck by him and put up with him through and through- and you'd never found it to be a chore. you were his favorite person, and just as you said yourself, you always would be.

"i want to kiss you,"

he blurts it out, and his face is pink with the slight embarrassment of not having conducted himself in a bit more of a romantic way, but he can't help it. your eyes go wide before they soften, and you're smiling back at him in pleasant surprise.

"i mean i-" satoru huffs, rolling his eyes at himself before moving closer to you, staring at you with a heaviness you'd never felt from him before. it had your heart doing somersaults as you waited for him to say what he meant. "can i kiss you?"

this time it comes out soft, his gaze falling to your lips before you answer, already swept up in the idea of kissing you that he's running his tongue over bottom lip with anticipation.

"yes"

your answer falls from your mouth in a murmur and not even a second passes before his lips are on yours, firm and sweet and kissing you with such a desperation you could almost believe the world was ending and this was your only chance.

you kiss him softly, languidly, taking your time as you slant your mouth over his and try to commit every detail of being this close to him to memory. but it's not long before you throw all caution out the window and your hands are awkwardly grabbing at him- his collar, his shoulders, his hair- it's like you're unsure what to do with them, but in reality you're just eager to take in every second of this moment.

as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss, testing all new waters, you both grow sloppy in your movements. he's practically pawing at you, pulling you close, his hands gliding everywhere they can reach and in turn you're pressing into him until your nose is smushed into the curve of his, soft pants falling against his lips before you're kissing them again.

it's messy, it's uncoordinated, and if you weren't in your body right now you would laugh at the sight of the two of you kissing so madly you aren't even bothered when your lips clash at awkward angles, with you accidentally kissing his teeth and his own kisses landing on your chin, or your cupid's bow. if you truly were out of body, though, you'd realize that you hadn't even cared- or seemed to notice at all.

it was a bliss only the heavens could bequeath upon you, and despite having all the time in the world, you and satoru were happy to rush through your kisses, letting your excitement get the better of you.

___

xoxo ~ jordie

[earthtooz]

ヾ(･u|

hi hi just wanted to share smth I thought up

imagine chigiri who in middle school had a best friend who was also very fast and did track. They were the only one who could ever catch up with chigiri and thus they became best friends and their own sorta rivals.

Then suddenly fast track to chigiri's injury and now seeing their best friend who runs like wind and is now bitter af. He knows he shouldnt be bitter when they have been caring the whole time for him so he starts ignoring them.

some chigiri love will be shown on the earthtooz blog 2nite because i adore him and think he deserves the world.

i actually love this scenario, but just- oh my gosh, i want to add on to your thought with my own:

your 'relationship' with him is admittedly, one of your favourite ones, despite neither of you seeing much of each other during school. but you were known to be on the track team and chigiri for being the fasted sprinter on the soccer team.

and on the bleachers after practice, a friendship/friendly rivalry was born.

for two of the fastest people on their respective teams, your parents sure did not reciprocate that energy, taking their times picking you up from practice. thus, you would spend an unknown amount of time talking to him, bundled up in your sports tracksuits with your sports bag snug on your shoulder.

chigiri was pleasant company. a little stuck-up, sure, but fun to talk to nevertheless. you could tell he took great pride in being a fast runner, but as long as he had the skills to prove it, pride is something you can overlook. it was endearing. he still lost to you every time in a 100m sprint though.

you gave him tips one time. you'd never forgive yourself for helping chigiri almost beat you.

but you admire him for it. you admire his talent and his determination,

then suddenly, he's not at practice. he's not at school either. in fact, it's not a week later until you see him... with crutches and a boot. the look he gives you is empty and devoid of the usual friendliness he always shows you and he doesn't even make attempts of greeting you.

his mum picks him on time too.

you get the message that he doesn't want to talk to you. he doesn't make the effort to anymore, doesn't swing by your class during lunch time, doesn't say 'hi' to you before practice, and his coldness causes your heart to break in two.

people had always told you that distance makes the heart fonder. you found out yourself that the saying was as true as they make it sound, your heart jumping alive and filling you with unexplainable yearning. a feeling you later label as a crush. not that your crush on him could do much now.

you see him struggle in practices, witnessing the way the ball gets stolen off him- something that had never been done before, with such ease. he meets your gaze from where you were filling up your water and instantly glances away, ashamed.

the next time you hear of him after graduating middle school, he's on national television, going against the national u-20 soccer team, representing some... project called blue lock? you don't pay any mind to it though, sitting on the edge of your couch in anticipation. the world was watching chigiri hyoma- the prodigy you knew in middle school.

you panic a little when he gets subbed out and you're scrambling for your phone, searching for chigiri's contact. your old messages that were left on delivered appear, causing a subtle ache in your chest to manifest, but the first thing you send is an 'i'm watching the match. are you ok?'.

the next thing you send is a 'CONGRATULATIONS!' when his team wins.

you get a response an hour later, it's chigiri thanking you. his next text asks you to catch up over coffee. you agree as soon as the message is received.

one coffee 'date' turns into a day in harajuku. a walk together turns into visiting a local park and playing on the swing set, jokingly racing each other to each equipment and your feelings for him return full swing by the end of the two week break he has.

you spend his last day together. he tells you to keep an eye on him. that he'll become even better of a soccer player that either of you imagined in middle school. you make him keep the promise to you with a pinky promise. he agrees. you're satisfied.

and fast forward a few years, it's the night before the finals of the world cup and he's in your arms in the hotel room, self-care routine all done as you let him unwind with you in preparation for the big match tomorrow.

he tells you to watch him. that he'll bring home a medal for you. you make him pinky promise you. he agrees. he kisses your ring finger, where a precious gold band sits snugly, a reminder of his love and the years you have spent with the other.

thank u for ur ask !! sorry that i've been letting this one rot for a while but i've been waiting to get this one out since the day you sent it :D love the idea, thank u chaos!!

[iluvshinytwink]

if ur still taking requests can u write for jude where he's insecure and doesn't feel like he deserves her and he doesn't tell her but she finds out when she finds him looking at himself in the mirror in tears and she makes sure he knows she loves all of him ❤️

Reaching Out - Jude Bellingham

"I just hope you realize how much you mean to me. I just wish I could remind you of how beautiful you are. I'm sorry I haven't told you in so long. But please don't think I have given up on you. I will never give up on you. My arms are wide open. There is always a place for you here."

A/N: NAHHH I SAW THIS REQUEST AND RUSHED TO A BOOK I BORROWED FROM MY SCHOOLS LIBRARY, its filled with poetry and the title of the poem was "Reaching Out" AHHH IM SO EXCITEDDD, I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS THANKS TO THIS BOOK AND THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING!! &lt;333

Insecurity, the word hurts as much as how it feels. The feeling of no longer loving your body, the feeling of questioning someone's love for you based on your physical appearance. It's a horrid feeling that sends shivers down your spine and doubt all over your mind.

Jude adored you, everything about you, physically or mentally he always found himself stricken for you in one way or another. He found himself having a bashful smile every time he looked at you. But the question is, did you feel the same way? Do you feel nervous around him like he does? Do you look at him and think he's the most beautiful thing on this Earth like he does? Is he giving too much? Did you even like how he looked?

These cruel thoughts began filling his mind. These thoughts ate his heart out. He found himself looking at the mirror, examining himself, judging himself. He'd go up close to the mirror, examining his facial features and he'd feel tears brim his eyes.

He'd go on social media and find men who he thinks would be better with you. And every time he does, he feels a piece of his heart breaking away.

It's come to the point where he feels.. almost ashamed around you. He feels nervous, too nervous.

"Hi, babe!" You greeted with a heartwarming smile, putting everything in your hands down. Jude looks at you with a smile, but you couldn't see it. "Why're you wearing a mask?" You chuckled, sitting beside him as you stared at his face. "I've.. got a cough." Jude lies. Jude always thought that lying to you of all people would feel like tearing a piece of his respect for you away and he felt that in the moment. "But I really want a kiss right now.." you hummed jokingly. Jude felt another smile creep his face even though you couldn't see it.

You tug his mask down, fast enough for him to not realize and you softly place your lips on his. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Jude had his eyes wide open as his heart started pounding in his ears. Something within him was happy you had your eyes closed, so you couldn't see him.

You break away, a blush on your cheeks as you chuckled. "You looked like a dumbass!" You laughed. Jude felt a smile on his face and his cheeks tinted red.

Lately, you've noticed something was off about your boyfriend. He kept to himself and you'd notice his lips would crack because he rarely spoke. His eyes would wander somewhere else.

"Jude?" You said softly. Your boyfriend looked at something without thinking, his eyes didn't even blink. Jude snapped out of his daydreaming and his eyes met yours. "Hm?" He hummed. "You okay, hon?" You asked worriedly. You placed your hand on top of his, they were cold. "I'm alright, go on with your story." Jude smiled, his voice came out soft and almost weak. "If something's on your mind, tell me, okay?" You looked at him with worry written all over your face. Jude didn't look back. Jude felt your eyes all over him, his heartbeat quickened. He glanced at you and felt his heart accelerating by the second. You smiled at him reassuringly, eyes softened.

He didn't want to tell you. He didn't know how you would react and he was afraid of that. He thought that telling you might've been childish and stupid and so he kept it to himself.

His feelings were buried deep within his soul, away from your reach.

You opened the door quietly, you felt your eyes droop lower by the minute. You sigh to yourself. The house sounds empty, hauntingly empty. You looked around, the presence of your lovely boyfriend which you craved for wasn't there.

Above, you heard sniffling. Your eyebrows furrowed, confused and scared of what might've happened.

Seconds pass and you hear the same sniffle again, accompanied by a strained sob. It echoed through your ears and into the core of your heart.

You quickly yet quietly ascended the stairs, heartbeat picking up.

The bedroom door was opened but no lights peeked from the door and the sniffling got louder. Your heart dropped momentarily. Never had you heard your boyfriend cry, this feeling of worry drowned you.

You made your way into your shared bedroom, inside the room was dark except for the peeking light from your shared bathroom.

You peeked inside and what you found shattered your heart.

You found Jude having a hand over his face, teeth gritting. His cheeks stained with tears. He had no shirt on. His hand curled into a fist as he cried, tears escaping his hand and onto his cheeks.

"Jude?" Your voice came out as a whisper. Jude flinched, harshly. His wet eyes turned to face yours. You had a shocked, sad expression on your face and he felt his heart drop. His mouth gaped open, hoping that something-- anything would come out of his throat, but nothing. A stiffed sob came out of his throat as he looked at you.

Instinctively you ran to your boyfriend, engulfing him in a tight hug as you felt tears of your own forming. Jude fumbled back. "What's wrong, Jude? Why are you crying? What's on your mind?" You asked, voice slowly breaking. "I--" he stammered. He desperately tried to find words, he begged for words to come to his mind. You closed your eyes as the first of your tears fell freely. "What's wrong..?" You asked once more, your grip around his body tightened. Jude bit his lip, mind blank of what to say.

"I don't look good." He managed to murmur, his voice cracking. "What do you mean?" You asked with a soft tone. "I don't feel good.." he slowly explained. You broke the hug, Jude's eyes shut tight as more tears poured from his eyes. You cup his face, his tears staining your fingers. "I feel so.." he croaked. Tears blurred your vision, your lips trembled.

Jude suddenly hugged you, so tight is started to hurt. His head buried in your neck. "Please tell me.." he sniffled, legs shaking. ".. anything." He sounded desperate. Your heart broke in that moment. "Why do you love me?" He choked on his words and you felt his tears descending onto your neck.

"You're beautiful, Jude. Everything about you makes my heart ache." You explained, arms wrapped around him. Jude's legs gave up on him, making both of you descend to the floor. "I love how you look at me, I love your smile, I love your voice, I love your soft lips." Your voice trailed. You went on and on and your voice broke with every sentence that left your lips.

"I love all of you." You finished with a whisper. His hands dug into your back, he sobbed even more.

This time, he felt that he wasn't crying because of sadness and insecurity, he cried because he was overjoyed. You said everything he needed and wanted to hear. You calmed the raging storm that infiltrated his soul. This burden, this feeling of regret slowly left him. You had a way of words that shot his heart every time.

"I love you, Jude. Everyday I love you even more." You cried into his back.

(THANK U FOR THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED THIS!! As i said in the beginning i loved this idea and i loved it even more because it had a connection to a book!! if im being honest yall r eating good this week, since tomorrow is valentine's day im gonna give yall a valentine's day special and wednesday will be the long awaited part two of ARE WE STILL FRIENDS !! please stay tuned and ill see u when i post again <33)

[artscloudy]

hi!!! i love ur &team fics i think you write the members so well😭😭!! could i pls request a k oneshot (preferably on the longer side but wtv you are okay with doing!!) inspired by the song daylight or mastermind by taylor swift? maybe idol au too idrm? but complete creative reign to you!!! thank u smmmmm

Hello dear <3 Ngl writing this was a challenge and I loved every second of it. And thank you for the compliment!!!

The songs screamed to me to write this, but it's not really long, sorry...

Anyways, I hope you enjoy <3

A long night

I've been sleeping so long in a twenty-year dark night, and now I see daylight, I only see daylight.

It was all my design, 'cause I'm a mastermind.

Gender: female Warnings: i guess none

You kind of stumble around while you try to catch your breath. How the heck does the coreographer create those insanely difficult coreographies is beyond you. You can barely breath after a whole hour of dancing.

You've been trying to get this coreo right for the last week, but the problem is you don't seem to be making improvements.

You wipe your forehead with the sleeve of your long t-shirt and try to stand up properly. Thanking the teacher and greeting the other girls, you take back the sweather you discarded earlier and get out. Finally it's done.

It has been a really long and tiring day, but now you deserve your beloved coffee.

Are you going to sleep? Probably you'll not even try now since you need to go back and practice at least a little more. The next monthly evaluation is incredibly close, even if the last one feels like it was just yesterday. Therefore, the coffee is a good choice.

While you walk to the coffee shop, you try to keep yourself warm in your sweather. The weather's so cold during the night, but nights in Seoul are just something else. You've been here for a while now and the night never stops mesmerizing you for how pretty the streets are and how you feel loved: you, who's never been really loved by anyone before. You love practicing in the night, when the whole city is asleep and there's only you against the world, when you can take your time and fix every little detail with patience and love, taking care of yourself. A good coffee is all you need to keep going.

𓂃 𓂂 ⋆ ˳ْ  ˖ 𓂃

Coffee secured and ready to be drunk, you thank the guy at the register and take the wallet back.

Why doesn't this bag open? You curse in a low voice.

Your mum was right when she told you to get a bag that had a zip instead of such a complex type of lock, but when you got to the shop, this bag was definitely the prettiest.

While you fight with your bag, you are pushed sideways by a group of guys who are probably here to get a midnight ice-cream. You think for a monent to insult them or something, but in the end, you just side-eye the one who pushed you and keep trying to open your bag.

You end up on the floor, you don't even know how, but you probably bumped into someone and now your coffee is splashed everywhere, in particular on yourself. And the point is you can not even say anything because it's all your fault for not looking around.

"My shirt..." you look up and that's when you start to freak out. In front of you there's K.

He's one of the most popular guys in the whole company, and he was so popular even back in his trainee days, with the girls fangirling over him and desperatly trying to let him know how interested they were, even if it is not exactly allowed by your company. It's common for him to find a couple of sweets with handwritten letters here and there - he's even recieved one right in front of you just a couple of days ago.

But he's also really popular among guys for his perfect body and amazing personality. He's respectful towards superiors and teachers and even towards the other students and, when he works in a group, he leads well: just the perfect hyung.

You two had met before in random situations: once in the lobby of the company and you just bowed to each other and talked a bit - in a really, really embarassing small talk - once in a formal meeting and once in a training room. But you basically don't know him personally, except for all the voices about him.

Still, here he is, stunning and perfect as always and offering you a hand to lift you up the ground. And he's smiling to you, as if his shirt is not as stained as yours is - and it's all your fault. You can't even look at him in his eyes, but you remember from your previous encounters the warm color they have.

You accept the hand he is offering and you find it to be soft and gentle when holding yours; even his other hand that only slightly touches your side to help you regain your balance is delicate.

"I'm sorry for the coffee..." you try to tell him.

"Don't be, it's okay. I needed to wash it anyways after practice". And he laughs a bit. You smile in return, thankful for the fact he's not making it weight on you.

"I'm K by the way".

"Oh yes, I know". Ops.

"Do you?"

You'd like to slap yourself but you avoid doing so only because it would make the whole situation even worse. You opt to say the truth.

"Yes... you're kinda famous at the agency".

He laughs. You look at him in the eyes for the very first time since you spilled the coffee. You're probably red on your cheeks, since you feel them so warm. But he's just stunning while he laughs and thanks you for the judgement.

"Do you have time? We could take a coffee so you replace the one you dropped".

"Actually, I was thinking about practicing a little more" you tell him, feeling sorry to decline an invitation that would be every girl's (and boy's) dream.

"Oh, got it. The monthly evaluation is in just a week. You're a tough one. - he laughs - You must be the best trainee there".

And you feel a bit ashamed to confess that actually, you're one of the worst in your group. The teachers even told you that if you don't start improving faster, you could even never make it.

"And what's worst is that my weakness is dance. I can never get movements right and they are weak and I don't look catching while dancing".

"Ehy, I can definitely help you with that!"

"Oh no, I'm really terrible, I don't want to bother you".

"No, really, I'd love to help you. Dance is my specialty". He has an amused look in his eyes while he smirks to you and brushes his hair back with his hand.

Along with everything else, you think.

And just like that, the god of dance sent you an angel of dance to help your uncoordinated ass to debut.

And you agree to him helping you, pulling out all the courage you have inside to say yes and not to die there and then.

So, after ordering two more cups of coffee, he follows you back to the agency, trying to keep a low profile on the streets.

𓂃 𓂂 ⋆ ˳ْ  ˖ 𓂃

Once you get there, you both get changed, discarding the stained shirts and you show him the series of steps that you have to master for basically the next week.

He sits on the floor in a relaxed position, looking at you - in particular, focused on your body - with full attention.

"What's your action plan?"

"My action plan?"

"Yea, the strategy to master all of that in the short time you have".

"I don't have one".

"Y/n, if you fail to plan, you plan to fail. You need an action plan".

K stands up and, for just a split second , you think he's going to open the door, get out, and never come back again, but he actually just grabs a pen and some paper and come back to where you're sitting.

"Let's say we have five hours. You can practice the first chorus for the first hour. It's the most physically demanding part, and it probably weights the most during the evaluation, so we should definitely work on that first. And then we can focus on expression and..."

He keeps using "we": we should practice, we have time... You feel a bit warm in your chest to see how he takes helping you improve by the heart. He could be sleeping right now or practicing his own coreography for the comeback or anything, but he's here helping you. You can't fail.

𓂃 𓂂 ⋆ ˳ْ  ˖ 𓂃

"Y/n! Again!"

You've already been practicing for two hours and yes, the breaks are almost nonexistent, but till now he has kept it funny and light, with nice talking in between the practices and a lot of words of support.

The problem is this small sequence that he had to show you twice and then explain really slow and still you can't get it right.

He stands up and comes behind you.

You feel a rush of heat to your cheeks as soon as he comes closer.

"The leg should be bent like this, - he holds your knee and moves it a little downwards, causing shivers to start from your knee and reach your whole body - and your hand should reach your knee fastly this way". He grabs your hand and his touch is still as soft and gentle as earlier while he brings your hand to your knee, showing you the right timing.

"Why are you shivering, are you cold?"

You feel heat come up to your cheeks and you start mumbling some absolutely random words: "No, no, just a little tired..."

You look at the mirror to check the position he led uou into, but all you notice is your red face: you're blushing like crazy and that makes you even more embarassed. In the mirror, you meet K's eyes. A shiver runs up your spine again while you just can't move your eyes away from his face, so incredibly close to yours. His black hair partially covers his eyes and the hem of the tshirt leaves his neck exposed. He's just that attractive.

You can even feel his breath on your cheek when he speaks again: "Repeat this part again."

𓂃 𓂂 ⋆ ˳ْ  ˖ 𓂃

The music comes to a halt and you keep your final position for the standard three seconds.

"YAY, Y/n that was perfect!" He jumps and in a moment he is on his feet and hugging you.

For the first second you don't know how to react and the only thing you're thinking about is how sweaty you must be after all these training hours, but then you give in and hug him too.

Now you get why everyone says he has a warm personality.

He caresses your hair and then lets you go.

When you two are distant enough, you look into his eyes and see how much he's smiling to you, his cheeks just as red as yours are.

𓂃 𓂂 ⋆ ˳ْ  ˖ 𓂃

"Y/n, how far is your dorm?"

"Actually, I'd need to take the bus..."

"No way I'm letting you take the bus this late".

"Yes but how do I get there?"

"By car, of course. Jump in".

He stops near a car that bips segnaling it's now unlocked. It's a small black car, but seems to be in really good conditions.

"How is it possible that you always knew what I need?"

"I'm wonderful, I know" and shoots you an enormous smile.

𓂃 𓂂 ⋆ ˳ْ  ˖ 𓂃

"I love night car rides. They're magical". You two have all the windows down while he runs on the higway and you look outside at the lights that alternatively flash or shut and the brushes and the few other cars that pass you by in the opposite direction. You look at K, whose eyes are fixed on the road. You can see the shine in his dark pupils.

"They are. And what makes them special is the person you're with". And he shoots you a little look. You are a little puzzled, but cannot help but smile too.

For the rest of the ride you keep talking about your lives and you're surprised that K knows you so well, as if it's not the first time you two meet and laughs it off with the same excuse you used earlier: you're famous among trainees, but you know for sure it's a lie because you definitely are not that famous. He must have made researches about you and that thought only, even without a certainty, makes you shy. And then you two fall silent, but it feels comfortable nontheless.

"We're here" K looks out of his window to check the building you live in. Then turns to you.

"Thank you so much K, I can't express how much I needed this help and support. You seemed to have exactly anything I needed and to be exactly in the perfect place".

He laughs in a way that feels somehow awkward and then clears his throath: "Actually, there's something I must tell you." He is not looking at you anymore, while your eyes are fixed on him.

"The few times we met eachother have never neen fortunate accidents. I've always known where you were and desperatly tried to meet you."

You stay silent, hoping he continues. And he does: "The first encounter, at the company, when we first met, do you remember it? That was actually the only encounter I didn't plan and the one who went the worst, considering I just couldn't speak comfortably and made the whole thing embarassing". You laugh at the dear memory. You've never thought about how cute that first time was.

"And even tonight, I knew you'd go to that coffee shop and I knew your dancing lacked and you needed help".

"So you did foresee your tshirt splashed by coffee too?"

He laughs: "No, of course no!" And his answer made you laugh too.

"But I've wanted to meet you and speak this comfortably to you for so long. I just hope it's not too creepy". That's when he looks at you.

"K, it's not. I kinda figured out at some point - you smirk, while he sends you a puzzled look - becayse you knew too many things about me. Like, come on, you'd be a terrible spy. Anyways, seeing you, one of the most popular guys of the company, an amazing idol and an incredible person embarassed and shy like this... it's cute."

Then you turn your gaze down to your hands, unsure weather to continue or not, but after a while add: "And I kinda like you too".

He's still and looking at you for a while, but then, with the side of your eye, you see him moving closer to you, one hand still on the steering wheel. When you turn to look at him, his face is incredibly close to yours.

He leaves a soft peck on the side of your lips: it could be anything in between a respectful kiss on the cheek and an attempt to kiss you on the lips, but you don't complain.

"Y/n, if you'd like, we can meet again".

[muniimyg]

40 | muse ✒️

series m.list

taglist: @kakixaku @boraength @4ksj @pamzn @jinsearth @fancycollectormoon @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @fan-ati--c @kthlvr30 @ellesalazar @taeees-world @sukunasrealgf @firesighgirl @jeonninja @bloopkook @butterymin @pinkseokchim​ @joonsjuice

warning: it’s a club scene y’all. ur typical fanfic yn getting hit on by someone else nd the love interests being 👊🏽😡 … take it as u will … implied violence (punch & a mini threat the guy deserves), angst angst aNGST 🤭

note: FRIENDS !!! this ch is the sole purpose of paraluman… i literally built an entire plot over this mere idea of conflict 😃 i hope u enj ,, as i will be taking a short break to update my other ongoing fics prewrite for the finale 🤡👍🏼 as always, ur thots nd reblogs are always appreciated <3 see u guys later

“No fucking way,” Taehyung gasps.

Taehyung is stressed—almost irritated with how you look tonight. He is in disbelief with how you walk in like you don’t know everyone is looking at you. Since Taehyung has always been a man of standards, evidently so, he doesn’t waste his time with people who don’t meet them. Tonight, it seems that you’ve exceeded them. As the sight of you settles in, he begins to get it. He finally understands why Jin and Jungkook are so obsessed with you.

Case in point: you look good. 

You look good and everyone here knows it. Nevermind that the club is filled, getting through the crowd doesn’t seem to be an issue for you. As people clear a way for you to walk through, you gently thank them. Now, everyone has their eyes on you for sure. It’s like a grand entrance of a rom com.

As the music blasts and the lights flash around the nightclub, your friends seem to have no problem fixating on you. You continue to make your way through the clearing crowd and stand before them with a warm smile. They are all gathered around a reserved lounge seating with drinks in their hands. It’s so nice to see everyone together. Of course, Yoongi isn’t here but this is as close to competition as your friend group can get.

Taehyung, who is already standing, greets you as he hands you a drink. You thank him sweetly and just as you’re about to sit down next to Nam Joon and Hoseok, Jimin purses his lips and makes a face at you. 

“What is it?” you demand, folding your arms together. You aren’t sure if he’s giving you that face because you disgust him or impress him. It’s really either or. “Something wrong with the way I look, Mr. Park—”

“No, you look beautiful,” Jimin admits smoothly before turning towards the direction of Jungkook and Jin. Jungkook and Jin raise their glasses to you, nodding nonchalantly. You tilt your head at them, unsure what to make of this image. You aren’t sure if they’re playing a trick on you or not.. They look awfully close tonight.

You’ve never really seen them get along. Aside from somewhat friendly and vague exchanges prior to your relationship with Jin, the two were never really friends. They were merely roommates whose families have always been acquainted with one another. Their friendship was out of respect for their families. Living together was just a coincidence and practical decision in terms of location and connection. Meeting you and being caught in the middle of it was just… Life.

Therefore, this an unlikely picture to see. 

The two men sitting next to each other? Odd.

In a way, you’ve waited and wondered when this time would come—rather, if it would ever come. When have these two ever willingly been this civil? Even before your relationship with Jin was out in the open, Jungkook often presented himself passive and rude to Jin. Jin would always reply coldly and in a way, challenging to Jungkook... So what now?

Tonight they were buddies?

You begin to create possible reasons as to why they’re acting this way in your head. Perhaps its the drink in their hands and the multiple pre-drink shots in their stomachs. Perhaps it’s because everyone was here and they knew they had to be on their best behaviour. 

Perhaps it’s because the two, in a way, have already lost. 

Nevertheless, you take a breath in.

As you breathe in, you remind yourself that taking a break from the both of them has been an effective and practical decision so far. It’s been a little weird to live life so quietly. Even if it’s only been a few days, it’s been nice to be alone. Like, alone alone. No texts, no calls, no surprise show up’s at your door. Being alone isn’t as scary you initially thought it would be. Yet, your anxious feelings don’t fade away that quickly. Though you’re slowly but surely feeling more at peace, you know this won’t last forever. Soon enough, you three will have to have at it.  

Until then, it is what it is. 

Space. Time. Reflection.

“Aight, this is exactly why one of you guys should’ve picked her up!” Jimin stresses. You look down and don’t catch on. Is it the dress? “She goes out looking like this? You guys let ___ go out looking like this?!” Jimin then gestures at your figure before facing Jin and Jungkook. 

“What is the big deal? She didn’t wanna be picked up. They just respected her decision of getting here by herself. Which, I think, is a good start. Baby steps, right?” Hoseok interjects, tugging you to sit down next to him. You smile and greet him.

“Hi, Hoseok. Thank you for coming home.”

Sure, you and Hoseok are okay now. You two have texted in the days between then and now, but there’s a part of your friendship that still feels like it’s recovering. That’s just life though, isn’t it? Sometimes we get hurt and we say sorry to one another. It doesn’t mean everything is okay tomorrow, but it’s better than yesterday.

“Hi, ___,” he smiles, opening his arms for you to crash into. “No more playing dumb?”

In his embrace, you laugh and shake your head. “Sorry for making you lose a few braincells while I find mine.” Your apology is unnecessary but nice to hear. Even if it’s a little unserious, he knows where your heart is. 

“I have a surprise for you,” Hoseok nudges you as you pull away. He looks excited a insanely suspicious.

“What is it?” you wonder. 

“You’ll see.”

You open your mouth but Jimin cuts you off before you can push your curiosity any further. Jimin huffs, articulating his following words. “No, shut up you two. Seriously? Everyone here is looking at ___! How could you two—”

“She can wear what she wants,” Jin interrupts Jimin. He says it slow and calm, it’s completely intimidating. It must’ve been even scarier to receive the comment and not just hear it. Jimin’s lips twitch, fully knowing he’s swimming in dangerous water. 

Your eyes meet Jin’s. It’s sudden and no part of you felt ready for this. So, you stay still, practically holding your breath as his eyes trace your body. You feel the way he’s looking at you and how much it hurts to be looked at him like this and not be able to have him. 

Yes, the break is good but holy shit.

Sometimes, you forget about the way Jin looks at you and how easy it feels to drop everything for him to stop looking at you the way he does. You want him to do something. Hold your hand, take you away from everyone, kiss you… You know him.

That glint. 

That hunger. 

That look.

You brush your thoughts off as the chills down your spine begin to calm. You can’t say you saw this next part coming though. Jin blinks away to Jungkook’s direction and nods at him politely. To which, Jungkook crosses his arms and checks you out too. Instead of feeling nervous, you shoot Jungkook a glare in response because he just ruined a moment between you and Jin. You open your mouth to—

“Yeah,” Jungkook agrees. “What Jin said.” 

Jimin almost spits out his drink. “W-what? Oh my god. Did I just hear that right? Did you two just agree on something—?”

Jin clears his throat, “Jimin, if you’re so hot and bothered with the way ___ looks then don’t look at her.” His warning sounds conflicting because he says it so sweetly. It’s the undertone that everyone can identify. Jin is maddened.  “Actually, I am bothered. Don’t look at her.”

Jimin gulps. He closes his eyes and turns around, avoiding your direction. 

Rashly, Jungkook downs his drink and clears his throat. It’s like the alcohol doesn’t burn his throat. It goes down like water and you can’t help but watch the way Jungkook wipes his lips with the back of his hand. 

Suddenly, you recall the way they felt against yours. 

Fuck. 

You shut your eyes, dismissing that thought. You open your eyes to Jungkook shoving his empty glass to Jimin’s chest. Jungkook catches the way you look at him. You look nervous—the kind like your heart was just racing. 

It was. 

Jungkook sends you a suggestive look. He’s playful about it and you hate how easy it is to read you. The way you flush is an easy tell. 

You squint at him, poking your tongue out in return. Jungkook rolls his eyes before smirking. He winks. At least, you think he does. You aren’t too sure. It’s so fast you aren’t even completely sure if he just did that, yet with the way Jungkook lowers his gaze, you become sure. 

“Doesn’t matter what she wears. I can fight.” Jungkook discloses, causing Jin to scoff and the rest of the boys to boo him.

As for you, you wonder why your heart hasn’t stopped racing. 

Jin doesn’t like dancing. 

Jungkook said he would catch up and dance with you later. 

They insist you dance with Hoseok and Jimin or literally anyone else in the friend group but for them. Regardless of how much they like you, maybe there are some things you can’t convince them to do. 

Honestly, it’s okay.

Dancing with them would’ve probably turned into a whole thing. This is for the best. At all costs, your goal for tonight is to make it through without any more misfortune. You figure this is an easy out. Spending less time with either one of them can save this night from foreseen disaster.  

Jungkook and Jin stay at the lounge area, standing and watching over the floor. From time to time, they laugh and point at you and Hoseok dancing together. While they drink their scotch, they bond like the three of you aren’t walking on thin ice. 

It’s not like you’re in the position to assume anything at this point. No way were you going to be nosy and ruin a good thing. However, it just feels so... Different. This is the first time in months—actually, ever—that you’ve seen the two get along.

What can you do? 

What do you want to do? 

Confront them and tell them this is weird? Isn’t this on you? Insisting on the break because you haven’t drawn a clear conclusion on how to keep both men in different ways? This is on you. This is the bed you made, therefore you must lay in it. 

As the night goes on, the dance floor gets more and more packed. You were dancing with Hoseok for the most part while Taehyung and Jimin floated elsewhere. Nam Joon was taking a break, sitting down in the lounge area, chatting up some girl. From the sidelines, Jin and Jungkook are still watching over you. It feels weird—watching them get along. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this feeling. It’s almost frightening. You’ve thought about it multiple times and even mentioned it to Hoseok probably a million more times, but as much as it is alarming, it’s just as radiant. 

It’s interesting. 

“Wanna get out of here?” The stranger's voice interrupts your thoughts. It doesn’t belong to anyone you recognize. 

As you turn to put the voice and face together, you see Hoseok practically being shoved away by two other men. While the main one, who you assume voice belongs to, smiles down at you. Immediately, you feel timid and confused. Why is Hoseok being pulled away from you? You can sense Hoseok’s blood instantly boil even as he’s parting ways from you.

You never doubted Hoseok in anything. Advice, his ability to be a food friend—yet, it shocks you how secretly strong he is. He pushes through the two men that block him and cut between you and the man towering over. 

“Woah—those your friends, man?” Hosoek bites, pushing their hands off his body. “The fuck is your problem?” 

You’ve never seen Hoseok get angry or cause trouble. Hell, this man is a saint. His friends growing up were probably angels and when he passes, he’ll probably become one as well. A horrible feeling kicks in when you notice Hoseok’s fists curled. He takes a step toward the taller guy. 

“This your girl?” the man spits. 

Hoseok hesitates and the man studies the way Hoseok does so. He laughs, drawing the conclusion himself.

“Not your girl, not your problem,” the stranger insits, smirking as he gestures his friends to dismiss Hoseok.

It happens so quick.

Before you know it, he takes a step toward you. In response, you take a step back. He’s a lot taller than you and it makes you realize just how small you are. It makes you feel so small and ultimately uncomfortable. “What’s your name—”

You scan for Hoseok. The two men have already pushed him away from arms reach again and it looks like Hoseok is starting an argument with them. He’s too far gone. You scan for Taehyung or Jimin. 

No where to be seen.

Abruptly, you turn towards the direction of Jungkook and Jin. 

Fuck. 

They left their spot?

Shit.

You’re alone. 

A lump in your throat starts to build up. You want to feel courageous and swiftly get away from here, but you think of nothing but for—

“I have a boyfriend,” you blurt. 

Maybe you said that a little too fast because the man doesn’t buy it. 

He offers you a half assed smile. It’s like he’s entertained by your distress. He pouts at you and it makes your stomach ache. It’s the sarcastic kind that only makes everything feel so much more uneasy. It’s like he’s tormenting you. In reality, you want to remind yourself that this is just a man that basks in preying on people’s fears. If you feed into them, he’ll have you just where he wants you. 

You hate this predicament. 

“That guy?” he points at Hoseok, who is struggling to get back to you. The crowd practically swallowed him. “Not him. Don’t lie to me.”

You gulp, taking your time to regulate your feelings. Yes, you’re overwhelmed and this is utterly uncomfortable, but you know you have to stick this one through. You may despise this moment, but you need to act bigger than it in order to get through it. 

“Y-yeah, he is my friend. He’s not my boyfriend,” you clarify, as you attempt to back away. As you so do, you accidentally step on a pair of passing feet. You stumble and the man lunges forward, catching you. It’s not like you were going to fall entirely, but his catch was still of aid. You hate that it was. His hands are on your waist as the other wraps around your wrist. Your breath shakes as he takes the opportunity to close in on you. 

“Careful with your excuses,” he advises. “Just say no and I’ll listen.”

“No,” you say sternly, finding your balance and getting back on your feet. Before you can turn around to walk away, he grabs your upper arm and pulls you towards him. He chuckles, his breath hot with heavy with alcohol. 

“Pretty girl, my bad. Forgot to mention I’m not the listening type.” Before you know it, he lifts his hand to your face. You turn your cheek, not wanting to look at him. He brushes the strands of your hair that have fallen on your face. Tucking your hair to the side, he then gathers your hair and moves it back. With a clear view of your neck, he leans in to kiss it. 

Before he can, you struggle in his arms. 

“My boyfriend is watching,” you utter. “Get off me. Now.”

Cockily, he whimpers to your ear, ���boo fucking hoo, bitch.”

You begin to sink in the struggling feeling. Yet, a part of you knew there was no way your friends were here and this would go any further. You hold it together a little more. “Last chance,” you repeat, this time with a firmer tone. “My boyfriend is watching. Get off me. Now. I’m not asking you a third time.”

With an unamused tone, he asks, “who? Show me and I might believe you.”

“Let go of me and I’ll show you.” 

Perhaps because he’s drunk and you’re entertaining him, he listens. He lets you go and you take a breath in as you get on your feet. Now what? Push through everyone and hide in the bathroom? Scream so loud and make a scene that everyone on the dance floor can kick him out? Or do it? Make a fucking choice and get this bullshit over with.

Jungkook or Jin.

That’s it. 

You scan the club once again with your fingers crossed. You shut your eyes for a moment, hoping that when you open them they’ll be either. You know Jungkook and Jin have left their original spot. You know that Hoseok is pushing through whoever to find you. You know Nam Joon must know about this somehow because he’s Nam Joon and Taehyung and Jimin, in their own way, will rescue you too. 

You open your eyes and immediately feel relief. 

The sight of Jin and Jungkook stomping their way over to you relieves your nerves. The weight of your fear and anxiety lighten with every step they take closer to you. 

You don’t condone wrathful behaviour, therefore violence is out of the equation. But you can’t help but feel so much fucking happiness as you recognize their facial expressions. You’ve known the two long enough to be able to read them to an extent. 

It’s too late. 

It’s too late for this guy because the Jin and or Jungkook do not look pleased. 

Jungkook’s fists are curled and Jin has never looked more than ready for anything in his life. Jungkook is pushing his tongue around his cheek, directing disgusted looks towards the man beside you. Jin’s eyes pierce through and it’s like the crowd you’ve been pushing and shoving through all night is clearing a way for them. 

It’s then when you see it clearly. It’s not the extent of anger their that brings you to believing you’ll be okay. 

It’s him. 

It hits you.

This is the moment. 

You blink and feel the need to rub your eyes. 

In the midst of it all, Jin and Jungkook are still childish boys fighting over the pretty girl to pick between them and you do so. It happens so fast they almost trip over their own feet.

As the two approach you and the man, Jin and Jungkook’s heart continues to pound. Partly because of the adrenaline and anger as they watched you being hit on this entire time and partly because they knew what you were doing. They knew this was the typical “that’s my boyfriend,” play. Their anger fractures for a millisecond.

The man hisses, feeling impatient. “Cats got your tongue? Where’s your boyfriend, bitch—”

Before you can even stop yourself, you point toward the direction of Jin and Jungkook. 

Jungkook or Jin.

You point towards their direction. The man bends his knees slightly and squints to see no one. 

“Are you fucking with me?” he growls. “You were pointing at the two fucking guys—”

“She was pointing at me, you dumb fuck.”

Stepping out from behind Jin and Jungkook, he reveals himself.

It’s him. 

He’s here.

He steps forward and the familiar voice brings you absolute security. You’re going to be okay. There’s nothing bad that could happen now. Focused on you and your boyfriend, Jin and Jungkook circle behind the man without being noticed.

Drunkenly, the man huffs. “You? You’re her boyfriend?”

You nod at the sight, heart racing as he exchanges a warm smile with you. He extends his hand and you take it. Standing by his side, you burry yourself into his embrace. He smells so good. 

He smells like home. 

“Yeah, fucker, I am. What the fuck were you doing touching her like that?” 

Just as the stranger is about to put up a fight, a hand taps him on the shoulder. Sluggishly turning the stranger is met with a punch to the face. It’s a big hit. The kind where you watch his face turn and you wouldn’t be surprised if he would be missing a tooth or two. Falling on the floor, you gasp as Jin is revealed to be standing there. 

Jin is the one that threw the punch? 

Jungkook laughs, congratulating Jin. “Nice hit,” Jungkook then before he bends over the man lying on the floor. he picks him up by the collar of his shirt and shakes him. 

“Don’t ever fucking touch anyone like that ever again,” Jungkook says flatly, “because I’ll kill you next time.”

Jin rolls his eyes and grabs Jungkook by the back of his shirt. Jin pulls Jungkook back up and swears, “he’s not fucking worth it.”

“Says you,” Jungkook remarks, smacking Jin’s soon to be bruised knuckles. Jin flinches and hisses at the initiating pain. 

In the blur of the moment, perhaps it was the adrenaline; you feel ecstatic. The two look like brothers when they get along. You think to yourself, maybe it’s not that peculiar after all... 

You see security guards come in and take the man on the floor away. Jin and Jungkook talk to the security guards before directing them to Hoseok. Hoseok leads the way, pointing out the other guys that were acquainted with the man hitting on you. Jimin, Taehyung, and Nam Joon follow along. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah,” you admit, processing it all. “Thanks, boyfriend.”

He pats your head, his gaze softening as he leans in and teases, “whatever you say, my love.” 

He offers you a shy smile and you can’t help but get watery eyes. You’re so thankful. You’re so heartbroken at the same time. Seeing him again after all these years; you never expected to feel this way. It’s a relief to see him. It makes your heart feel heavy as you notice how his hair grew, how his style changed, but the way he looks at you hasn’t. 

You know it in your heart it hasn’t as Yoongi, your first love, reaches for your hand and kisses it.

You’re sitting in the lounge with Jungkook. He’s listening to you give your perspective on what happened. He’s tucking your hair behind your ear and leaning closer and closer every time you pause and look at him with wide eyes. Jin knows you aren’t flirting. He knows you’re used to going to Jungkook for comfort and given the events of tonight, you’re right to.

Jin watches you two, completely unaware of Yoongi approaching him. 

“Looks like it’s swelling already,” Yoongi offers an ice pack and another drink with his other hand. Jin thanks him, taking the ice pack and placing it on his knuckles. 

“I don’t know how Jungkook fights all the time,” Jin confesses. “I get that he boxes and shit but this is gonna be annoying to deal with as it heals.” 

“She’s worth it,” Yoongi comments. “The fights. The heartache.. I think she is.” 

Yoongi’s words catch Jin off guard. He clears his throat and pulls his attention away from you and Jungkook to Yoongi. Jin leans on the ramp and looks at his hand. 

He knows Yoongi is right. 

It aches though. 

It ached when you thanked the two and immediately lectured Jin about hitting people. How you congratulated Jungkook for using his words like you were a preschool teacher dealing with children. It ached when you took Jungkook’s hand and let him guide you out of the crowd and to the lounge. Where you two have been sitting together for the past fifteen minutes, talking and simply being together. Shouldn’t that be him? He was the one to throw the punch. 

Jin isn’t even sure how it ended up being him that threw the punch. Jungkook was more than ready and willing to do so. It was more of an in the moment thing anyway.

“... So it’s nice to meet you. I’m Yoongi,” he says. “___’s ex... And you are?”

Jin’s thoughts halt. He awkwardly laughs and nods his head, apologizing for being so disoriented. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jin. ___’s something.” Jin extend his good hand for Yoongi to shake. Yoongi shakes it, chuckling at Jin’s introduction. Jin takes that as a hint.

“So you know..”

Yoongi nudges Jin to scoot over. Jin does so. Standing side by side, they both watch you and Jungkook continue to bond. Like little kids, you two laugh and tease each other. Yoongi sighs, “Hoseok updates me every now and then. I usually don’t like talking about my ex on a daily bases so I try not to know too much.”

Jin snickers in response. “So, you’re not up to date then?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “Should I be? Feels a little like high school drama. Couldn’t stand that shit when I was high school, what makes you think I’d care about it now?”

“Because it’s about ___.”

“I digress,” Yoongi chuckles, cheersing Jin. Together, they both take a sip. 

In the silence, Jin can’t help but feel like his whole heart is sinking. He wonders if Yoongi feels the same in regards to how Jungkook and you are like together. He recalls asking Jungkook what Yoongi and you were like and having that conversation last less than a minute. Jin decides to bite. 

“Why’d you two break up?” Jin almost strutters, afraid he’s crossing a line. It’s unknown territory. He’s unfamiliar with Yoongi. 

“Ah,” Yoongi gives in. “Work was—”

“I know about work,” Jin implies. “I don’t know about you and ___.” 

Yoongi pauses, smirking at Jin’s cleverness. He likes that’s straight to the point. Immediately feeling like this must have been an aftermath to your circus of disaster. It’s then that Yoongi has a quick realization of how much you’ve changed without him by your side and in contrast how much you’ve stayed the same. “She didn’t want me enough.”

“Lies,” Jin claims. “If it’s not Jungkook or I, it’s you.”

With that, Yoongi shrugs in response. “Then it’s either you or Jungkook. If she wanted me, she would’ve kept me.”

Both men hold each other’s gaze, not knowing what to say next. Ultimately, Jin drops it and turns back to you and Jungkook. 

The conversation grows cold. 

Jin begins to wonder what interest you had in Yoongi back then if he can hardly hold a conversation now. It’s a little funny because Yoongi seems to be quite the opposite of what he was expecting. Sure, he knew Yoongi was going to be the quiet type and a little mysterious, but Jin never registered the possibility of Yoongi being hard to read. 

“Childish for me to ask, but whose side are you on?” Jin confides in Yoongi, breaking the silence. “You know enough—you must.” 

Jin couldn’t help himself. Something about Yoongi felt so easy. Like you could tell him anything and everything you say is kept safe.

He wonders if Yoongi’s opinion would do anything. 

If Yoongi’s opinion would shift the way he sees Jungkook and if after hearing it, it would be easier for him to understand. Understand anything. Jin has been nothing but confused and hurt by you over and over again. Which, is ironic. Ever since he came into your life, that’s all he’s done to you as well. 

Yet, he can’t help but wonder why it doesn’t feel like you two are going in circles. Though the challenges feel repetitive, the actions and growth beneath it all are not. Each choice, each step forward together has ultimately changed the way he continues to love you. 

“Hers.”

Jin acknowledges Yoongi’s answer yet decides to push it. “But—”

“The most difficult lesson I had to learn is that not everything you love is meant for you. I’ve made my peace with ___. I don’t think you should.”

“What does that even mean?” Jin laughs as he takes a sip of his drink. Of course he understands what Yoongi means. 

You. 

He’s siding with you and your choice. Whoever you choose is his choice because whoever you choose must be the one that makes you happiest. That realization stings and spears into Jin’s heart as he watches you laugh, throwing you head back and enjoying your time with Jungkook. He can’t help but keep noting: you look happy with Jungkook. 

Do you smile like that when he’s around you?

Yoongi inhales sharply, tilting his head at Jin. Jin feels Yoongi’s gaze and turns to him. Offers a weak smile, he looks at Yoongi with pleading eyes. 

“Tell me something,” Jin begs, voice on the verge of cracking. Maybe he’s had too much to drink. “Tell me anything.”

Yoongi’s eyes shift towards your direction and his gaze softens. He downs the rest of his drink and goes through a quick dilemma in his head. How much should he share? He knew he would bump into Jin and have a conversation along these lines... But he didn’t expect it to be so out in the open. In a way, Jin surprises Yoongi. 

“She loves Jungkook—there’s no denying that. She always has and always will. Hell, even I can’t compete with him. I had and have no interest either… I think that Jungkook does well in tending to her needs in every way possible and by doing so, it heals the brokenness in him too. He’s always felt out of place and ___ has always been the person to make him feel needed,” Yoongi pauses and thinks for a moment. “...Like he belonged to her—which, some may argue but I beg to differ; I think it’s fair. They went through so much together. It would be a ridiculous expectation to have them move on from one another just because she fell in love with someone else.” 

Yoongi wasn’t talking about Jin. 

He was talking about himself and the short comings he felt towards you when he was your boyfriend. Though Jungkook wasn’t around for majority of it, he well understood the difference when Jungkook was. 

“Jungkook mended a heart he didn’t break. He hurts for her, he fumes for her, he loves for her and don’t get me wrong; I think they’re a great team. Jungkook protects her like she’s his entire heart and ___ has a way with him no one else does. At one point, a little before ___ and I broke up, I asked them individually if they ever had feelings for each other. Jungkook confessed to me and begged for forgiveness as if if was a sin to love someone. ___ shook her head and smiled politely at me saying she loves me. I told her, “that’s not what I’m asking. Answer properly,” and then she did.”

Jin’s ears turn red. “Well, what did she say?”

“She said I’m her first love. Jungkook is her greatest.”

“What does that mean?”

“Figure it out,” Yoongi teases Jin. Jin shoots Yoongi a glare and groans stressfully. It amuses Yoongi. “I’m just fucking with you, Jin! Lighten up! God, you’re so tense.”

Yoongi puts his hands up in surrender as Jin listens and tries to relax. He can’t help it! It feels like he’s losing you and like he’s never really known you at all. Everything he learns about you is simply an extension of Jungkook. He isn’t sure how he can process that. 

Jin once promised you the stars but it feels like he’s the fallen. 

“As childish and cliché as it sounds, it’s means you’re her true love. Regardless of how honest and pure her love is for Jungkook and I—we both lack something. A part of ___ never fully gave in and neither one of us have her entirely. Considering the way she’s been stealing glances all night, how she pretended not to care for your hurt hand—even avoided being the one to get you ice.. And not to mention the fact that she has mustered up so much strength and courage to refrain from crying and calling me up about you when she was having a hard time… Yeah, pretty sure she loves you. Sure, love is timing and chemistry, but what it orbits around is choice.”

“She chooses Jungkook a lot though,” Jin croaks, partly disregarding everything Yoongi had said. Yoongi’s mouth drops open, unable to comprehend how sensitive Jin was acting. He must really care for you. “I don’t know how to deal with it. I don’t know how to draw boundaries or keep Jungkook in our lives if he continues to act the way he does. She always goes back to him regardless of how much of myself I offer.”

“You don’t have to figure it all out at once... I mean, who would she be if she just woke up one day and didn’t need Jungkook?”

Jin nods along, taking everything Yoongi says in.

“Think of it this way: Jungkook and ___ are opposite ends of the same string...” Yoongi nods along to his own words, confident and ever so insightful. “___ and Jungkook both hate losing. They’re competitive and impulsive in the same sense they’re anxious and let life pass them by. To be completely honest with you, they’re soulmates but they’re not lovers. At least, not in this life. As much as Jungkook tries to convince you they are; I will convince you otherwise. Plus, maybe you’d know that if you stopped focusing on Jungkook and started paying more attention with the way she chooses you—”

“Yeah, but—”

“Dude, she broke up with me.”

“What?” Jin’s eyes almost fall out of his head. “Everyone says it was you—”

“Well, she didn’t break up with me break up with me,” Yoongi quotes. “I did that. I dumped her… But she’s the one that told me to go. I would’ve stayed if she asked me to but she never did. Fuck, I would’ve married her if she wanted me to. That’s why I asked her and Jungkook if they had feelings for one another. That’s also when I realized something important...”

“Realize what?” 

“What do you think you are to her? A practice round?” Yoongi returns Jin’s question with his own. “If Jungkook has always been her safe space and I’m her past, what do you think you are to her? She tries with you. Sad attempts but she does try. I can’t and don’t want to speak for her or for her feelings, but I’ve known her long enough to understand the way she handles things. I’ve never seen her so eager to grow when it comes to you.”

Jin freezes. He’s never really thought about that. 

“Paraluman,” Yoongi beings, “it means muse. Have you noticed that everything you and ___ go through, good and bad, have brought you two make better decisions for yourself and each other? She has a tendency to wish for parts of Jungkook to change. With Jungkook, she shifts back to this dependent and catered princess. Whereas for you.. She’s loved every part of you since the moment she laid her eyes on you and has constantly been finding ways to better your lives together. Even if she had moments where she fucked up, which I’m sure she has; she is choosing to change.”

“She has changed a lot.” Jin agrees. 

“I think you have too. You must have,” Yoongi guesses. “And for what it’s worth, I think it’s you. You’re her muse.”

Jin is lost for words. What is he supposed to say? In a way, this conversation brought clarity but in others... Jin is more than confused. 

“What if it’s not ___ and I in the end? W-what if it’s not.. What if it’s not me?” Jin stutters, hating each word that came out of his mouth. “Every day I try to convince myself that she’s not the love of my life… But she is. She proves that over and over again just by being her… How am I supposed to get over this? How did you get over her? Because I don’t think I can do it.”

Yoongi doesn’t know how to answer Jin. He isn’t sure if Jin is genuinely insecure even after all the encouraging words Yoongi exchanged with him or if Jin has plans on forfeiting. Yoongi decides to be honest. What does he have to lose?

Yoongi has already lost you. 

“I didn’t.”

As the night comes to an end, everyone is outside waiting for their Ubers. Jungkook and Jin are inside paying the bill. Taehyung and Jimin burst through the exit and light a joint. You cringe at the sight, hating the smell. Meanwhile, Yoongi, Hoseok, and Nam Joon will be staying at your place for a couple of days and you’re all waiting for your Uber. 

It’s never been like this. It’s always been Hoseok and Nam Joon coming to visit. Yoongi never comes with. 

You don’t know if it’s your drunken thoughts or the way Yoongi just naturally captivates you, but your words spill out of your mouth faster than you can stop them. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too—“

“I’m happy you’re here, but… Yoongi, w-why are you here? You never come back.”

Yoongi pouts shaking his head at you, “you know why, ___.” 

“N-no—” you refuse. “I don’t know why.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Is it—“

He nods.

“Are y-you.. How did you find out?”

The guilt sobers you up. You wish you didn’t know what he was talking about. Yoongi takes a hold of your forearm as you stumble towards him. You find balance and when you do, it’s useless as Yoongi’s words make you dizzy all over again.

“You won’t listen to them, so I need to you to listen to me. My love, you have to make a decision. Do you think you can hide this forever? They’re going to find out. ___, you can’t keep this from Jungkook or Jin anymore.”

The choice becomes bitter in your mouth. The same way it’s Jungkook or Jin, it’s leave or stay.

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Queen Melody couldn't help but admit that something was definitely not right here. Even as she holds glass by its stem, she can't keep her eyes off of King Damien.. and Queen Fluerette.

Her ears flick as her eyes narrow. Even though she didn't mind the young king and queen, she couldn't help but find it so.. suspicious. There was something wrong, very wrong here.

Tama, her dear granddaughter, was afraid of King Damien. Afraid of him, to the point of tears, begging Nimbus to not take her to the debutante of Queen Fluerette. It got so bad that Arthur and Dolion opted to stay back in Luminos with her.

A headache comes on, and she hisses quietly, placing her free paw to her head as she lowers her glass a bit.

"Ah, Queen Melody!" The familiar voice of King Bolero makes Queen Melody glance up, and she smiles at the approaching Bolero and Peony.

"King Bolero, Archimage Peony." She greets them warmly, with a respectful nod. "How are you two doing?"

"As well as we can be," Peony hums softly, and Melody frowns at that.

"Did something happen?" The queen of Luminos asks.

"It's Dapple," the king of Magnamiel informs her, and that makes the queen more worried. "As of late, she's been very.. standoffish regarding any news of King Damien."

"How odd.." Melody frowns. "It's the same for Tama. She's been so avoidant of the topic.."

It left a sour taste in all their mouths.

○●○

"Do you want to see something I can do, Fluerette?" King Damien asks as he leans against the sturdy railing of the balcony that overlooks the grand room. So far, the debutante ball had been a success.

"Hm?" She blinks, confused. "You've already done so much, what else are you capable of?"

"Many things." He smiles charmingly at her, and Fluerette cannot stop the blush that forms. She watches as he stands upright and holds out his paw.

A flame forms on his paw, but it's not red, orange, or yellow. Not even blue. No, it was a bright green, and the small particles that came off of it were almost cube shaped.

Queen Fluerette stares in awe, and King Damien chuckles.

"This is something I've been working on for a while," Damien informs her, letting the flame slowly snake its way between his fingers. "It's still very small, but.. it changes memories and minds."

Fluerette gasps softly. "What..?"

"It's why everyone's been so receptive to you tonight." The king of Devos smiles. "I've just been.. tweaking some things. Especially of the monarchs." He chuckles. "I've made it so every subconsciously believes that you were in the right for the war."

The queen of Desiderio can't help but worry a bit. "You.. wouldn't do that to me, would you?"

"Of course not." Damien shakes his head, and Fluerette can see he's being truthful.

The queen of ice looks away bashfully. "You don't.. have to do all of this for me, you know. It's really just for us to get those seals.."

"And?" The king of darkness lets the flame vanish, and he takes her paws into his. "You deserve to enjoy the perks of royalty while we do this. Once we get all the power from the seals.."

He chuckles softly. "It'll be us at the top of the food chain."

Fluerette, the self-proclaimed queen winter, now her heart beating faster and faster. Her cheeks were a bright red, and her tail couldn't be swaying back and forth faster.

Damien was looking at her as if she was the only thing that mattered, and Fluerette couldn't help but hope she was the only thing that mattered to him. Admist the plan and all their moves to open those seals. She couldn't help but hope that she mattered the most.

That this was for them.

"Shall we head back down?" King Damien asks with a chuckle, lowering one of his paws to now only hold one of hers.

"We shall." Queen Fluerette confirms with a giggle.

As they descend down the stairs, Damien pulls up a screen that only those with code can see. Without Fluerette noticing, he begins to mess with lines of code.

Then, he T U G S on some lines, and he knows that suspicion and anything else from anyone of importance won't be an issue.

Letting the screen vanish, he looks at Fluerette with a warm smile, which she reciprocates. He can't help but find himself thinking that this is all for her now. A world where people don't have to fear death and a world where Fluerette will never be taken from him.

The two monarchs brush their tails against the others before they reach the bottom of the stairs.

Truly, this was a debutante to remember.

○●○

Tama was curled into a ball under the sheets, the wooden door locked.

"She hasn't come out in ages.."

"At this rate, she's going to miss dinner..!"

"Sir Arthur and Sir Dolion haven't been able to get her to come out either.."

The voices of the maids and butlers, which were meant to be whispers, were pounding in Tama's ears. Her paws clamp over them in a desprate hope to dampen in, but nothing works.

She sobs, sobs, and sobs. Her body shakes as she sobs and desperately tries to ignore all the noise.

Zephyr.. Zephyr, you promised, didn't you? She thinks. You promised me you'd stop the noise when it happens.

The memory plays in her mind. The way the wind swirled around her, a gentle voice coming to assure that he'd always be there to direct away the noise.

So where is he?

Where are you?

You promised!

It feels like a crescendo was building inside of her, a viola slowly growing louder and higher.

YOU PROMISED!

The high note plays throughout the castle, and lamp flames all extinguish, running water stops, the air stagnates, light grows brighter and darkness deeper, the earth trembles, ice cracks and winds rush, lightning cracks overhead, and the leaves tremble.

All movement in Luminos castle stops before everything resumes.

All the voices Tama can hear stops.

And yet, she continues to sob. For the promise she cherished so much was gone.

[sam-edgelord]

"Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I'm finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact. So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I'm here to tell you there's nothing to worry about. Uh, you'll do fine. So, let's just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?Uh, let's see, first there's an introductory greeting from the company that I'm supposed to read. Uh, it's kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, "Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life. Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon property and premises have been thoroughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced."Blah blah blah, now that might sound bad, I know, but there's really nothing to worry about. Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I'd probably be a bit irritable at night too. So, remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay.So, just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they're left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh...Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of '87. Yeah. I-It's amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know? Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uh, if they happen to see you after hours probably won't recognize you as a person. They'll p-most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that's against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they'll probably try to...forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now, that wouldn't be so bad if the suits themselves weren't filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort...and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh.Y-Yeah, they don't tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I'll chat with you tomorrow. Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night."

U deserve a reward for remembering all that....unless...U COPIED AND PASTED??? 🤫🧏

[volleyball-crow]

Rules!! Aoba Johsai Volleyball Team

Rejected titles, written above and crossed out: Resistance is Futile, Oikawa-san’s Rules, OIKAWA-SAN RULES, Seijoh Commandments, Aoba Johsai Laws, Shittykawa can’t come up with decent titles to save his life, Vice-captain please stop antagonizing him

-

Rule #1: Oikawa-san is the master commander in this ship and you shall obey him in all matters.

lol l o l lol lol Mutiny! Mutiny, I say!

Rule #2: First-years must rotate setting up duties, as well as cleaning up duties.

Oikawa, if you’re going to do this, then at least do it decently why must you suck the fun out of everything, Iwa-chan? interesting choice of words there Oikawa-kun! Matsukawa. Laps. Yes, sir. On it, sir.

Rule #2.1. if Kunimi pretends to forget his turn again, he’ll get a life sentence

why is there a rule just for me, Hanamaki-san, that’s so unfair i n s t e a d   o f   a   r u l e,   w e   c o u l d   a s k   t h e    v i c e-c a p t a i n   t o   t h i n k    u p   s o m e   k i n d   o f    s p e c i a l   p u n i s h m e n t    f o r   y o u actually, you know what, Kindaichi, I’m fine with this

Rule #3: You bleed on it, you wash it

how do I get blood out of fabric, again? hydrogen peroxide, Mattsun. or you could just put that ugly yellow shirt in the trash where it belongs don’t even, Oikawa, I know the nasty stuff you have hidden in that wardrobe

Rule #4: Mandatory yearly field trip to look at the stars for team bonding purposes!

Is this just an excuse to spend an entire night looking for UFOs and discussing the possibility of alien life? Y e s. Y e s. Yeeep. What say you, Dr. Expert-in-Oikawa-Matters I say he probably needs his Star Trek collection confiscated to calm down a little YOU’RE NOT CUTE! YOU’RE NOT CUTE AT ALL! THIS IS WHY YOU CAN’T GET A GIRLFRIEND, IWA-CHAN! lol no it’s not

Rule #5: If you bring a water bottle to practice, then take it home with you

The club room is small enough, don’t waste space on stupid stuff, we already have Oikawa that hurt even me UNCALLED FOR IWA-CHAN!

Rule #6: Occasionally the vice-captain will fuck up and end up petting the captain’s hair in apology. Pretend you don’t see this.

I’d like to know who had the balls to write this because he deserves a medal h a p p y   p e o p l e   s h o u l d   a l l   e x p l o d e

Rule #6: For fuck’s sake, no fangirls.

someone explain to me how come Oikawa-san’s presence makes us all invisible? l o l   m i s d i r e c t i o n

Rule #7: Iwa-chan needs some loving every now and then~ Oikawa needs a kick in the ass every now and then

N o   t h a n k s,   I   e n j o y   l i v i n g I also happen to be quite attached to my life r e l a x,   l i t t l e   f i r s t   y e a r s,   I w a i z u m i    m e a n t   t h i s   r u l e   j u s t   f o r   h i m s e l f,   h e’ d   k i l l   y o u   i f   y o u   t r i e d   i t o h    g o d not to worry, Kindaichi, Oikawa-senpai would kill us himself first s o m e h o w    I’ m    n o t   c o m f o r t e d Iwa-chan, how dare you talk about the great Oikawa-san like this! that’s exactly why why does no one respect me in this house. I guess we should show our respect for you more, shouldn’t we, Captain Mattsun~ you’re my favourite♥

Rule #8: We must greet Oikawa’s greatness every morning with a salute and 2 yoga exercises done on the spot.

Downward dog is preferred. I w a i z u m i - s a n,   n o o o o   X D D D Mattsun, you’re no longer my favourite. lol disowned it was all worth it HANAMAKI-SAN DID IT HANAMAKI-SAN DID IT OH MY GOD HAHAHAHAHA M A T S U K A W A - S A N  T O O!   O M G this is why everyone thinks the volleyball team is not normal well, they’re not wrong

Rule #9: Funny guys who think they’re funnier than they actually are will run laps until they puke♥

Sorry =(   Sorry        S O R R Y       s o r r y ! !       oops We’re really sorry, please don’t kill us Whoever said Captain is not a hardass, my thousand bruises and missing tooth would like to have a word he just wanted to see if your eyebrows get thinner when you’re tired Iwaizumi-san. Not helping. [you’re all so strange - Sawamura] Z I P    I T    K A R A S U N O !

Rule #10: If we’re playing poker, Oikawa-senpai is not allowed in the room

just -how- does he know everyone’s tells? it’s not that bad, is it? m a y b e    i f    y o u    c o u l d   r e s i s t   t h e    u r g e   t o   d o   a   l i v e  a u d i o   c o m m e n t a r y   a n d   d i d n ’t   o u t   e v e r y   s i n g l e   b l u f f   g o i n g  o n I’d also appreciate my eyebrows not being the topic of a 5-minute monologue for once

Rule #11: Monopoly is BANNED.

L e t   i t    b e   n o t e d   h e r e    t h a t    I   o w n e d   a l l   y o u r   a s s e s. Makki, dude, let it go.

Rule #12: No dog jokes, practical or otherwise. Kyotani is enough of a pain in the ass already.

personally I thought the leash was a very nice touch because he didn’t get the joke? because he didn’t get the joke. y o u ’ r e   s o   l u c k y    h e   r e a d   t h e   w o r d   “R u l e s”   a n d   s t a r t e d   p r e t e n d i n g   t h i s   b o a r d   d o e s n’ t   e x i s t

Rule #13: Liberos are precious creatures that must be protected at all costs.

I need to know who wrote this, so I can figure out if I should be feeling the love or the sarcasm Watari, dear, it’s probably both O i k a w a - s a n   o n   p o i n t   a s    a l w a y s

Rule #14: Iwa-chan is a beautiful cinnamon roll, too perfect for this world, too pure

d i d   O i k a w a - s a n   s u r v i v e   w r i t i n g   t h i s ? he’s been missing for three days O H    M Y   G O D    W H A T Kindaichi you saw him less than an hour ago o h.   o h   y e a h.

Rule #15: If you’re drunk, we don’t know you.

But I hear he still carried Captain’s ass home [but did he cop a feel, tho] NEKOMA WHEN I FIND YOU I’M GONNA KILL YOU [that was not a no] please don’t kill another team’s captain, Iwaizumi-san

Rule #16: If you don’t know me, I can do whatever I want

a h.   t h e y ’r e   s t i l l    f i g h t i n g,   a r e n ’t    t h e y ? how observant of you. Does nothing escape your all-seeing eye, Kindaichi?

Rule #17: Team dinners after every match. No exceptions.

good to hear they made up

Rule #18: The next person to start an underwear-stealing chain will be hung up from the school’s flag mast in their socks. And only their socks.

is this actually physically possible? wanna find out?

Rule #19: Iwaizumi-san is always serious, and must always be taken at his word, please don’t ever think he’s kidding because he’ll really do it oh god

and they said high school wouldn’t be a traumatic experience

Rule #20: CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELVES FOR FUCK’S SAKE THAT WAS DISGUSTING

this day will go down in Aoba Johsai history as the smelliest there ever was i t    l o o k s    l i k e    a   d i r t y    l a u n d r y    b o m b   f r o m   h e l l   w e n t    o f f    i n    t h e r e.   w h a t    t h e   h e l l   h a p p e n e d I   n e e d    t o   kn o w:   w h o    d o   t h e   s p a r k l y    a l i e n   b o x e r s   b e l o n g   t o ? lolololol Oikawa-san, Kindaichi found your underwear w h a t ? nooooo, Kin-chan, don’t believe his lies! I know for a fact you have three more pairs in different colours STOP MESSING IN MY UNDERWEAR DRAWER HAJIME stop hiding the TV remote in there when you’re sulking C a p t a i n… ah, Captain just broke Kindaichi’s little hero-worshipping heart. he should buy him dinner as compensation. and me too. oh no. I feel so disillusioned. only free food can heal the wound in my soul. in fact, he should buy all of us dinner, after all this hard work, isn’t that right, Hanamaki-san? I   w o u l d n’ t    s a y   n o    t o    t h a t,    M a t s u k a w a - s a n. you’re all horrible, horrible people, I should just go to Shiratorizawa you’d be back in three days, tops. you’re so uncute, Iwa-chan. no wonder you can’t get a girlfriend. lolololol that’s not why

Rule #21: don’t underestimate other teams, no matter how weak they seem.

d a m n.   d a m n    d a m n    d a m n   d a m n. next time, man. we’ll only get better from here. stay focused.

Rule #22: Karasuno and Shiratorizawa are going down first - and then we’re going for the Champions Cup. First place will be ours.

Scribbled several times all over the remaining space below rule #22 in different handwritings: Yes, Captain.

RULE THE COURT

(tiny drawing of an adorable, but somehow incredibly menacing chibi!Oikawa, with a cheerful smile full of teeth. The speech bubble next to him reads: “…. or else.”)

[inkykeiji]

Wait im sorry clari im confused!!! So is reader just giving step enji attention to try and get touya niis attention and make him jealous?

sort of, yeah!!! here, i’m just going to quote my notes from when i was writing that piece to give u a little more insight into everything going on there:

⊹ touya knows this is disrespect; she’s acting out to hurt him, and even though he KNOWS this, it doesn’t make it hurt any less, even though he ends up giving her what she ultimately wants. it’s a little tangled and convoluted—touya’s pretty sure she does this just to piss him off, to provoke him and get a rise/reaction out of him, to gain his attention in any way, good or bad it doesn’t matter which. just ATTENTION in general. but there are genuine feelings to her love for their father, too, and there are genuine feelings on ENJI’s part, too, which pisses touya off even more because hello, this is HIS little sister. and it’s these genuine feelings from both reader and enji toward each other that leaves the tiniest sliver of truth to what she says and what she does, and that’s what ultimately hurts him the most. 

⊹ so, in other words: he’s angry because she’s doing this purely to disrespect him, and even tho he knows this he still can’t stop the hurt (an automatic, instinctual reaction he’ll never be able to soothe or stop); and he’s upset because there’s a shard of truth in it all and that’s rly what hurts the most. but knowing that his little sister will stoop this low to hurt him is painful as well—tho he supposes she learned from the best. he’d do the same, he’s such a hypocrite. still, obv he deserves more respect duh 

⊹ the obvious context of the fic is that she just likes running into enji’s arms and greeting him and it makes the rest of the family uncomfortable because it doesn’t exactly look or feel entirely innocent (this i want to SHOW through their interaction, tho). but the SUBTEXT is that she does this to piss touya off, because enji is really her only weapon against her eldest brother, but he’s also a foolproof weapon—he never fails to hurt touya, no matter what, and he always gets you what you ultimately want; attention from touya. (this should be hinted at in her comment about touya fuckin around with everyone)!

^^ these are my rough notes verbatim! their conversation after enji leaves is particularly important, because it shows where they’re both hurting; she mentions how touya sleeps around and he mentions how she’s all over daddy. reader boldly calling attention to exactly why touya is upset (with the jealousy bit), calling him out on his bullshit and explicitly hitting him exactly where it hurts, is the final nail in the coffin to her getting exactly what she wants (his attention!!). also, this piece obv is not set within my established touya-nii au. this is a different touya-nii entirely!

[zapreportsblog]

↱ my mother : the successful business woman ↰

➘ summary : In this story we see how Izuku grows up in the hands of a successful business women, watch as his mother becomes his hero, the hardships they face as a family and how Izuku gains new friends and siblings to come

➘ a/n : there’s now a masterlist for this story

➘ Chapter 3: The Gift of Education

O N L Y   T H E   B E S T   F O R   I Z U K U :

Monday morning arrived, signaling the beginning of a new chapter in Izuku's life. It was time for him to embark on his educational journey, but instead of attending a regular school, his adoptive mother, (y/n), had arranged for the top homeschooling teachers to come to their home. The grand study room was prepared with everything he needed to learn and grow.

As the clock struck nine, the first teacher arrived, a renowned scholar with a kind demeanor. He greeted Izuku with a warm smile, and they delved into the world of mathematics, science, and literature. The lessons were engaging and tailored to Izuku's interests, making him feel eager to learn more.

Throughout the day, more teachers followed, each an expert in their respective fields. The history teacher spoke of legendary heroes and their feats, inspiring Izuku to dream even bigger. The art teacher nurtured his creativity, guiding him to express his thoughts through sketches and paintings. The hero studies teacher delved into the characteristics of true heroes, instilling valuable life lessons within him.

As the lessons concluded for the day, Izuku was filled with a sense of wonder. The knowledge he had gained felt like seeds planted in the garden of his mind, ready to bloom and flourish with every passing day.

In the afternoon, after his last lesson, Izuku found himself sitting with (y/n) in the living room, enjoying a cup of hot cocoa. He looked up at her, feeling a profound sense of gratitude in his heart.

"Mama, why do you do all these things for me?" he asked, his eyes brimming with curiosity. "You don't have to arrange for the top teachers to come to our house. You already do so much for me."

(Y/n) placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with warmth. "Izuku, you are my greatest treasure," she said softly. "You deserve the top educational experience because you are capable of achieving greatness. You have a heart of gold, and your dreams of becoming a hero are worth pursuing with the best guidance."

She smiled, and her words wrapped around him like a protective embrace. "You see, being a hero is not just about having powers; it's about having a strong mind and a compassionate heart. By giving you the best education, I hope to nurture those qualities in you."

Izuku was in awe of her wisdom and love. Her words resonated within him, reaffirming his belief in himself and his dreams. He had found not only a mother but also a mentor, someone who believed in him unconditionally.

"But mama," he said earnestly, "I'm not special like All Might or the other heroes."

(Y/n's smile never wavered as she gently cupped his face in her hands. "Izuku, you are special in your own unique way," she said. "You may not have a quirk, but your heart is a quirk all on its own. Your determination, your kindness, and your resilience are what make you extraordinary."

"You're right," he replied, his voice filled with determination. "I won't let not having a quirk stop me from becoming a hero. I'll work hard, just like you do for me every day."

(Y/n's eyes shimmered with pride as she hugged him tightly. "I know you will, my dear. And I'll be right here, cheering you on every step of the way."

From that moment on, Izuku's desire to become a hero burned even brighter. His mama's unwavering support and the gift of the best education filled him with determination to chase his dreams with all his heart.

As he prepared to face the challenges ahead, he knew that he was not alone. With his mama's love and guidance, he felt invincible. He was ready to take on the world and prove that heroes came in all shapes and sizes, and they could be born not only from powers but from love, courage, and the belief in oneself. And as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Izuku would grow, not only in knowledge and strength but also in the profound love he had for his mama, who had given him the greatest gift a child could ever receive—the gift of education and the belief that he could be a hero in his own right.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

As the afternoon sun painted the sky in hues of orange and gold, (y/n) decided to surprise Izuku with some quality time together outside of their usual routine. (Y/n) called the gym teacher, explaining that she'd be taking Izuku out for a treat, and the teacher happily agreed, looking forward to seeing them both the next day.

They stepped out of the house, hand in hand, ready for their little adventure. (Y/n) noticed that Izuku's eyes sparkled with excitement, and she couldn't help but smile at his enthusiasm.

"Where are we going, mama?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"It's a surprise, my little hero," (y/n) replied playfully. "But first, let's get some limited edition items of all your favorite heroes!"

Eagerly, they explored the stores, finding action figures, comic books, and posters featuring the heroes Izuku admired. He felt like he was in hero heaven, and his heart swelled with gratitude for his mama's thoughtful gesture.

However, as they were browsing, fate had an unexpected encounter in store for them. Among the aisles, Izuku spotted some familiar faces—his old classmates from before he was adopted. His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity.

His classmates, recognizing him, approached with smirks on their faces. "Well, well, if it isn't the quirkless loser," one of them taunted.

"Yeah, what are you doing here? You think buying all this stuff will make you a hero?" another jeered.

Izuku's insecurities resurfaced, and he found himself feeling small and inadequate. But before he could respond, (y/n) appeared behind him, her presence commanding and protective.

"Leave him alone," she said in a tone that brooked no argument. "You have no right to mock him or anyone else."

His classmates, intimidated by (y/n)'s stern expression, quickly retreated, muttering apologies as they scurried away.

Turning to face Izuku, (y/n) softened her gaze. "Izuku, don't let their words get to you," she said gently. "You are not defined by whether or not you have a quirk. You have the heart of a true hero, and that's what matters."

Izuku looked at her, tears welling in his eyes. "But mama, they kept saying I'm quirkless, and that makes me weak."

(Y/n) knelt down to his level, her eyes filled with love and understanding. "Guess what, Izuku," she said softly. "Mama doesn't have a quirk either. Do you think that makes me a loser?"

"No, mama," Izuku replied, shaking his head. "You're the bestest, most greatest mama in the world!"

"And that's how I feel about you, Izuku," she said, wiping away his tears. "You are the most courageous, determined, and kind-hearted boy I know, and I'm proud to call you my son."

With her words, Izuku's heart swelled with happiness, and he couldn't hold back the tears of joy any longer. He jumped into her arms, feeling safe and loved in her embrace.

They continued their day, going to get ice cream at his favorite parlor. As they sat together, enjoying their treats, Izuku felt a sense of warmth and belonging that he had never experienced before. With (y/n) by his side, he knew that he could overcome any challenge, and his dreams of becoming a hero felt more attainable than ever.

In the arms of his loving mama, Izuku knew that he was not alone in his journey. He had a true hero by his side, someone who saw his worth beyond any quirk or power. With her support, he knew he could be the hero he had always dreamed of—one who would save others not only with strength but with love and compassion. And as the sun set on that memorable day, Izuku felt like the luckiest boy in the world, grateful for the gift of a mama who had filled his life with love, guidance, and the belief that he was capable of being a hero in his own right.