#wendy x fem reader

[fic-over-cannon]

I think dating Jason would mean never peeling your own oranges. It’s not that you can’t or won’t, but he likes doing it for you. Simple as that. You could easily snatch your oranges out of his hands, with their long fingers and scarred knuckles, but you choose to let him do this for you. You protest at first — you’re a big girl capable of doing this for yourself after all — but he brushes it off, tells you that he likes taking care of you with an earnestness about him that you can’t deny. Doesn’t that just have your insides turn into something warm and soft? So you accept his care with the graciousness it deserves. Lean into his side as he makes the first cut into the skin, releasing a mist of juice and citrus oil into the air. Sweetly thank him for every segment he passes into your fingers. He always keeps a few wedges himself as payment, but it’s no steep bargain. If you’re alone, sometimes he’ll feed each piece to you. Press the wedge against your parted lips and wait for your teeth to catch hold. And if sometimes you’ll lick his fingers clean of the dripping juice, well that’s a secret between you and his darkening eyes.

[be-missed]

Find You Again (Drabble)

Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader

(pictures not mine)

Summary: Four months post-breakup, Y/N "swiftly" moved on, entangled with a rising singer. Jenna, still raw from their shattered romance, covertly attended Y/N's performance at Coachella Valley Music. The echo of Y/N's new song sliced through her soul like a knife, reigniting her heartbreak with an unbearable intensity.

Warnings: curse words, notify me if there are any

A/N: This is a backstory. A new song released by Wendy, so listen to it if you can!

Song: His Car Isn't Yours // WENDY

Masterlist

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"Do you wanna go around to get some food?" Mia asked Jenna, obviously trying to get her away from the stage where Y/N will perform in a few. The both of you planned this; You will perform your first ever stage in Coachella while she watch you. But it turns out that the world has other plans for the both of you.

You broke up with each other four months ago, but you are now dating a rising singer for two months. It fucking hurt, really. It hurt Jenna so deep. She never heard from you after you dropped off her things in her house and she went away to do filming.

"No, uhm, you go ahead, I'm not really hungry" Jenna smiled timidly to her sister. Mia nodded and leaves Jenna alone at their spot, near enough to watch you clearly, but far enough to not be seen.

Five minutes later, the crowd are cheering for your opening song. Jenna was watching you sing, reminiscing those days where the both of you were in a studio and she was the only person that gets to hear your masterpiece. She wants to gatekeep you actually, she doesn't want anyone thinking that they wanted to be yours. Because you are only hers and she's only for you.

She remembers how she drives to your house, picking you up, driving fast in the highway and driving slow through the suburbs. She remembers how you were always waiting up in your driveway waiting for her car to park in front so that you can greet her. Jenna sometimes parks her car on the other side of the street just to surprise you, but hell she wonders how you still noticed where she is parked.

A tear fell from her eyes, she wiped it up fast, not wanting to be seen. She hates herself right now, she hates how she is so hung up on you while you were out there dating some dude. Jenna thought to herself, "Did some force take you because I didn't pray?" because if it did, right here, right now, she'll be on her knees begging that things aren't real and she's just dreaming.

Your voice break her thoughts when you said "So this song is for someone... that has been a part of my life. A big part actually." You bitterly smiled, Jenna saw the camera focused on you, it didn't go unnoticed that you were actually finding someone in the crowd. You continue to speak "So uhm, if you are ever here, this is for you."

Jenna is nervous, because it's either you sing a song about that dude or your gonna sing about her. But she doesn't want to get her hopes high, so she did some breathing exercises to ground herself when the intro of the song started.

You start singing the song, it was... a sad one. A song that is actually about you and her. The moon is taking over the sun making the venue a tad bit darker, making the fans lit up the flashlights on their phone.

You moved to the center of the stage, closer to the people that are watching you. Scanning every possible face that your low resolution eyes can see. Trying so hard to find Jenna, because she promised. She promised she'll watch your first performance in Coachella.

Am I supposed to find someone

Makes me feel how I felt?

I'm trying think it's time that

I try again with someone new

The stream of tears on Jenna's face is now continuous, no matter how hard she tried to stop herself, she just couldn't. No one knew the relationship that you two had, no one knew that the two of you are connected. The both of you are rising stars in each track that you take, but the both of you are still not famous enough to break the internet with some dating rumors.

Now it's eight o'clock and I'm waiting on

This good guy to come pick me up

I just wanna have a good night

He's pulling up, oh my God, I see the headlights

And he opens my door but his car isn't yours

It's not you anymore in my driveway

It isn't you drivers seat on the highway

It isn't you on your way every Friday

And I hate that it hurts that his car isn't yours, yeah

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours

Yeah

The bridge hit every part of Jenna's heart that screams your name, which absolutely every part of her entire being. After your break up, she just drive past your house just to see if you are awake, to see if your dining room light is on, or just to see you in your driveway waiting for her.

Now it's 2 AM, he just dropped me off

Asked if he could come in, I told him maybe not

Then he asked what he did, I said that nothing's wrong

It wasn't your car

The song ended in a sad beat with you thanking everybody on your team, the festival, and the audience that watched you. Sad to say, you ended your set with a broken heart. You were happy, of course, being able to perform on a big music festival with a lot of people that can support you and listen to your music. But Jenna wasn't there, you didn't see Jenna standing on her spot, rooted there like she was planted.

But that car isn't yours

No, his car isn't yours, mmm-mmm

Eh-yeah, mmm, yeah

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A/N: Chapter 3 is not still finished but here is a drabble for Find You Again. If you have any drabble ideas for Find You Again, just send it! Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed it!

[seulgiwifeee]

What Shall I Do || Wendy

♡ Member: Gangster*Wendy x Nerd*Femreader

♡ Theme: Fluff, SOME angst (like the TEENIEST bit)

♡ Warning: Cussing, Wendy low key likes to be praised ? :0, she just wants to impress you :(, detailed make-out session (hehe), <<<a TAD bit suggestive during it, slow burn I guess? But it's worth it I promise ⸝⸝o̴̶̷᷄ o̴̶̷̥᷅⸝⸝

♡ Description: The troubling girl that Wendy is has found herself falling for the girl who couldn’t be anymore opposite of her. She decides she wants to act upon her feelings, but she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to successfully approach you until she walks past that tutoring flyer that’ll change everything.

Word count: 9.2k (I got carried away..LOL)

(Genuinely didn’t know what to make as the title so I just put the title of a song I thought would go good with reading,, #stream What Shall I do by Hoody and all of her other songs ɞ̴̶̷ ·̮ ɞ̴̶̷)

All idea credits go to the amazing @wendyslegalwife ‘s request ⸝⸝ɞ̴̶̷ ·̫ ‹⸝⸝ ♡ !!

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How could people so polarly opposite ever make things work out between them?

Wendy questioned that each time she'd catch herself staring at the beauty of Y/N, muttering stubborn curses at herself when she'd realize you were making her lose focus and blush in front of her clique for simply existing around her.

They would try to poke sly teases at Wendy, asking her whom she was giving 'lovey-dovey' eyes to, as they'd say, but the sharp turn of her threatening eye was enough to shut them up and make them uninterested quickly.

But anyway, the question still stands—what was so enticing about you?

Why did Wendy have to like you?

You, Y/N L/N, out of everyone in this school?

There was nothing special about you.

You were just a huge distraction and if anything Wendy shouldn't have even been acknowledging your existence.

You're a nobody!

She had better things to focus on and you're not even her type!..

..Or so that's what all her stubborn mind used to tell her.

Now, there's no denying the heady effect that your presence alone has on her each time you enter the classroom. Wendy's the first person to even notice your appearance, and without fail each time, her eyes stay glued onto your figure until her conscious snaps her out of it or if one of her friends nudges her to back to reality.

Was it the way you spoke with your honey-sweet voice any time you answered a question?

The alluring look you'd unknowingly eye your teacher with when you were focused on the information she would share during discussion?

Or how Wendy thought you looked so nerdy-cute from how your large glasses would sit propped down on your nose, practically sliding off, and how your tongue just slightly poked out from the side of your mouth each time you were fixated on completing an assignment?

Or maybe it was all? (It was)

Despite whatever reasoning it could've been, all that Wendy knew in conclusion was that she wanted— No, needed you. Badly.

But she's the most feared girl at the school, along with her little gang. Everyone, plus the teachers and staff members, is scared of or intimidated by Wendy. Yes, including you too.

How could Wendy get with someone who flinches every time she walks past them or nervously looks away when they dare to steal a glance at her for any longer than a split second?

It's not like she's some kind of bully or has ever done anything to you; she'll only become aggressive if someone purposely does or says something to her or her friends to piss her off, and that is when things can get scary, so other than that Wendy's nothing more than a harmless (-ish) troublemaker if no one tries to mess with her.

But unfortunately, the damage of her aggressive and intimidating past actions has left too much of a dent into the school's atmosphere for people not to be uneased by her, and all the fear that's been instilled in everyone's minds is practically irreversible for her to suddenly try acting all soft, thinking that could make people in any way forget the girl she's shown herself to be for last few years.

And aside from the rough image she has to put up with, she knows that you on the other hand probably wouldn't even try giving her a chance to date you.

Like come on, you, Y/N, the girl who makes straight A's, never skips class, avoids drama at any cost, actually cares about her studies, and is probably the sweetest person in this school just to end up with Wendy; this little delinquent she knows that you probably portray of her as who can flip the mood just by walking into a classroom with the wrong look on her face? Not a chance.

But that dismissive thought doesn't deter Wendy because no matter what, she will still do what she can to show you, to prove to you that there's more to her than just the edgy facade she shows on the outside.

It's just.. how will she be able to show it?

She already knows that she can't casually walk up to you because either you would take that as a threat and run away before you'd allow her to get a single word out, or she wouldn't last more than two words into the conversation before you'd run away from the bubbling fear and anticipation. So either way you're going to end up running away.

Okay.. so how will Wendy be able to approach you that doesn't end up with you running away?

Maybe she could find someone who could give her your number and then you two could try messaging?

Never mind, she knows that would just creep you out even more.

Okay, no message, now what?

With each new idea Wendy comes up with, she has to scratch it out because it's either bound to not work or there's just that one flaw that completely ruins it.

Soon, that brain fog kicks her in the ass hard and she can't figure up any new ideas. It doesn't break her determination, of course, she's too prideful for that, but she's definitely losing her patience.

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Wendy walks down the hallways with her usual mean mug, clearing the path of nervous and startled people just by walking near them.

She steps past the bulletin board filled with posters of the school's weekly news, not minding any business to them until she suddenly pauses and makes a rewind back to a little certain flyer that catches her attention from the corner of her eye.

"After school tutoring with a buddy!" is printed in bold blue letters on the poster.

Wendy takes time to read more into it, finding out that the school's top students have joined together to host this little tutoring program to bring students with struggling grades to stay after school so they can get help on understanding their course better and getting their grades up. The person signing up can also choose who they want as their tutor and, surprise surprise, you just so happened to be one of the top students involved with this.

This is perfect. If you end up tutoring Wendy then she can finally have an excuse to approach and start some form of conversation with you, and you wouldn't even have any choice but to talk with her!

But the only downside to this is that you're tutoring for the math section. Wendy can't stand math for the hell of it, that's by far her weakest subject and just one look at her grades can be backed up as evidence to prove it. Also, the spots are very limited since it's only around fifteen students who'll even be tutoring, and there's also another student who's tutoring for math, so it's not even guaranteed to Wendy that she'll end up with you as her tutor if someone doesn't get to you first or if she'll even manage to turn her papers in time before all the tutoring spots, in general, are taken.

And again, she just doesn't want to deal with anything math-related.

But.. whatever it takes for her to talk to you.. she'll just have to push herself through it and risk these chances.

Once she gets the papers, she fills them out and turns them in as quickly as she can, determined to seal her spot with you, and impatiently lives the day on and she waits for the upcoming Friday to find out whether or not she makes it in.

—

The exact moment as Wendy arrives home from school that Friday afternoon, looking down to check her phone as the time changes from 4:59 pm to 5:00 pm on the spot, she grins widely once that confirmation email pops up in her notification bar, letting her know that she's eligible for the tutoring and that you've been assigned to be her tutor. 

Well.. Of course, Wendy got accepted so easily, it would've been incredibly stupid on the school's part for her not to be; the second the administrators received her filled-out papers she was the first student they even signed up for the program. And really.. if the school could've, they would've tried to sign her up for more tutoring other than just math.

Wendy's small moment of happiness, though, is lifted momentarily once the sheer realization dawns on her, the remembrance of certain things said in the tutoring flyer and the things she'd have to face that she didn't take into account earlier all floods back into memory.

She's in tutoring. Tutoring.. meaning she's going to have to be associated with a bunch of other dumbos and idiots.

Also, tutoring sessions are supposed to be happening after school in the cafeteria.

Everyone.

All at the same time.

It doesn't matter to her that the tutoring is one-on-one or if everyone's going to be spread out in their own "private" section of the cafeteria, she can't be seen in front of all these people receiving help. She knows she doesn't actually plan on taking the tutoring seriously since it's just a tactic to get closer to you, but no one's going to catch on to that from the bare eye! They're just going to see Wendy as a weakling!

She can't let that happen.

She hurriedly types out an email to Mrs. White—the vice principal and head person in charge of this program—asking if there are options to tutor somewhere else, and not too long after, she responds back suggesting that you two could tutor separately from everyone else in one of the empty classrooms, but that solution is not good enough for Wendy.

She needs the two of you to be alone, somewhere more private than that.

Matter of fact, she doesn't even want to be on school grounds when you two are having your sessions.

Wendy writes again, asking in desperation if it's possible she and you could work off campus, but all Wendy's told is that the first session has to be done on school grounds, just so everyone can be monitored and can be seen if there needs to be any switching around and other nonsense Wendy didn't care to finish reading about.

Although.. Mrs. White at the end did say that after the second or third session, she'd see what she could do for you two regarding this, but Wendy knows that "I'll see what I can do" bullshit 99% of the time usually means there's nothing that can be done.

Well, that's great.

Wendy's nowhere near satisfied with this, but again, if she wants to get closer to you, then she'll just have to deal with this nonsense.. she supposes..

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Sooner than Wendy can even realize, the day finally comes.

She never realized how much she'd really been anticipating this day until the final dismissal bell of the day rang, her heart dropping as everything suddenly hit for her to process; she can't tell whether she's more excited or nervous.

As she exits the classroom, her little gang is confused once they see her creeping the opposite way of the exit and all begin to question her.

She makes up a quick lie along the lines of needing to go to the bathroom and that all of them could just go ahead and leave since she'll catch up with them later. And like the airheads they are, they somehow believe her, not even giving her any further questions before they go on and leave campus.

Wendy lets out a sigh of relief and once they're far out of her peripheral, Wendy quickly speeds down the hallways, not caring one bit if she bumps into anyone, and hides around a secluded corner in the science building. She makes sure to keep herself hidden from any lurking eyes, continuously checking the time on her phone to see if it's anywhere close to the time yet for the tutoring.

"Hurry up.." she mutters impatiently looking down at the time and tapping her finger on the wall behind her as she keeps an alert eye out to make sure no one's walking near her.

The slow minutes tick by and it only serves to heighten Wendy's anticipation, but after what feels like forever she looks back at the time and sees that it's just five minutes past the time tutoring was officially supposed to begin.

She finally curves out from the corner, quickly peeking her head out to make sure the coast is clear before she marks her way toward the cafeteria doors. She takes in a deep breath, clenching her fists to her sides before she brings herself to open the doors.

As Wendy steps inside, she looks around at all the people inside getting situated with each other. Lingering near the entrance, some people sitting around spot her there and a quick change of emotion from their once cheery, talkative expressions is noticed—Fear.

Of course..

Wendy rolls her eyes at them, unbothered, and walks towards an area where there's a group of people sitting, assuming that's where she should be sitting too.

She sits at the end of the table and immediately buries her head into her phone, not wanting to draw any attention to herself, which honestly she knows is pretty useless since her classmates can very well still see her and are very well terrified and confused about why she's here.

Wendy feels an abrupt shift in the table as she watches her phone and looks in the corner of her eye to notice everyone scooted further away from her. She scoffs, putting her attention back to her phone and muttering under her breath, "Losers."

Everyone around Wendy joins with their tutoring partners as she restlessly continues to wait for you. She can feel cold sweats trickling down her forehead as her hands begin to shake. Wow, you were the one making Wendy nervous. Only could you ever do that to her.

She continues to distract herself scrolling through her social media until she notices a pair of feet approaching her and hears a small voice speak out. "Uh.. Wendy?"

Wendy looks up, her heart skipping a beat as she meets eyes with no one other than you. But her demeanor clearly doesn't show her nervousness, seeing as you cling tighter to your notebook in a tense stance.

Wendy quickly softens her features once she notices your uneasiness and tries her best to play a sort of soft, inviting smile instead. "Y/N?"

You nod your head hesitantly, not fully trusting the sincerity in Wendy's smile, and look down at your notebook.

"So.. looks like I'm tutoring you," you mumble with a blatant tone of awkwardness, placing a piece of hair behind your ear as Wendy nods along.

"Which table would you like to work at?" you ask, trying your best to mask the edging fear layered behind your voice with a fake smile.

Wendy's eyes spark up and she suddenly stands up from the table, causing you to flinch and instinctively take a step back.

"Actually, I was told that we were allowed to study alone in one of the unused classrooms."

Your pupils dilate instantly just at the mere thought of being trapped alone with Wendy. It was already bad enough that you were chosen by her to be her tutor buddy, but now she wants you two to be isolated from everyone just to where she could do god knows what, whether it's something to you or someone else? This is like asking for death.

"Uhh.. are you sure you wouldn't just like to study over there somewhere?" You gesture your finger towards a different direction in the cafeteria in hopes of changing her mind, but her plan stays firm as she shakes her head.

"And be stuck seen in here with these losers? It's already degrading enough for me just having to sit at this table, you're real funny if you think I'm staying over here any longer." Wendy walks past you without warning, heading towards the exit.

"B-But.." you call out weakly as she walks further away. You mutter a curse under your breath, holding in a deep breath before you push your legs to reluctantly follow after the troubling girl.

You guys walk down the empty hallways in silence, an awkward tension very noticeably stirring up between you two as you try your best to avoid eye contact, maintaining a fair distance while Wendy struggles to think of how she can spark up a flowing conversation.

After a few turns searching around the hallways, you two find a vacant classroom. You open the door with your key, but Wendy still somehow manages to get a hold of the door before you, holding it open as her hand gestures for you to go inside. You quirk a brow but nod your head in a simple gratitude as you step inside. The further you walk inside, the more you start to regret signing up to do this tutoring program.

You really don't want to be alone with Wendy. You don't understand— Well, you do understand why you're so unsettled around Wendy because of obvious reasons, but it's not like Wendy's ever done anything to you specifically. She's never hit you, threatened you, or given you a dirty look.. Shit, you're not sure if you've even spoken to her other than today.

And if you're being honest with yourself, you know you're only scared of her because of all the rumors that's been passed around. Because truth be told, you've never really seen her in action before with your own eyes.

So why is your body giving you symptoms that make you seem like you're so terrified of her?

Why is your heart beating in erratic patterns even while she's not doing anything to you?

Maybe you don't trust her?

Yeah, that's it. You just don't trust her.

You sit at one of the tiny desks and Wendy pulls a chair out from another desk, setting it across from you. As she pulls out her phone you look back down at your clipboard. "Alright, so you need help with algebra 2 I see.." you mutter and Wendy hums unenthusiastically.

"Do you have any homework assignments that we can look over?" you ask, but she shakes her head muttering a quick "nope."

"Well, do you have any note—"

"Nope," Wendy says bluntly, interrupting you before you can barely finish your sentence.

"Do you have anything algebra-related in your binder?"

Wendy shuns you with another sharp “no.”

You sigh with disappointment, though you're not surprised, mumbling an awkward "okay" and flip through your work folder. "Well, that's okay because I have some worksheets in here that we can work on together, so—"

"—Hey," Wendy cuts in again, a little more aggressively than she had intended. Your ears perk up from the sudden, harsh interruption as your heart begins to gradually pick up its pace again as you hold your breath. "Yes?"

"You know, this is our first day of sessions. Don't you think we should get to at least know each other better so that we can get more comfortable working with each other?"

Oh, you're pretty sure you know Wendy well enough.

"Um.. I guess?" you mumble with uncertainty.

Wendy smirks and leans back into the chair, grunting as she stretches out her arms. Your eyes narrow down for a split second, noticing the shiny belly piercing adorned on her toned stomach as her dress shirt slightly lifts. Cute.

"So.. I already know we have each other's names established by now—me, Wendy, you, Y/N," Wendy says and you nod.

"So then, Y/N, tell me some things about yourself so that I can get to know you better."

"Just anything?" you ask and Wendy nods.

What is this, an interrogation? Why would Wendy care anything about you? Was this all just a distraction so that you two couldn't start on any work? (Yes, it definitely is)

"Um.. Uh.." you don't know what to start with or say first because, well, what are you supposed to say when you're put in such a sudden and awkward position?

"Come on. Just tell me the basics, like what's your favorite color?" Wendy says trying to help by giving you some ideas.

"Umm, my favorite color is blue."

Wendy nods, biting her lip. "Me too.. What's your favorite candy?"

"I like any sour candy," you state simply.

Wendy hums with the subtle nod of her head again. You continue for the remaining minute answering Wendy's questions about yourself, but you suddenly begin to stumble on your words, avoiding eye contact each time you speak as her piercing gaze bores into you in a somewhat intimidating way.

"Yeah, I have a younger sister and she.. she.." Wendy's resting bitch face is in full play and it does nothing but intimidate you. Her dull eyes pierce into the depths of yours, an impassive look's glued to her face as the corner of her lips is hung downturned.

Wendy's clueless about your fear because this is only her focused face, she's taking the time to study each and every one of your intricate features. She can't control the way her features curve, she doesn't even notice her facial language looks threatening in any way right now, but once she sees how uncomfortable you've suddenly gotten she quickly realizes and softens her expression again.

You still don't say much, avoiding eye-to-eye and staring down in your lap.

Wendy frowns and taps her acrylic in front of you to grab your attention. You look up, breath slightly shaky as you lock eyes with her once again.

"Hey, I know this is kinda awkward having to work with me n' stuff, and I know you're probably scared of me, I can't really blame you, I guess, but I swear I won't do anything to you.

Besides, it's not like you've ever done anything to piss me off, so there's nothing to even worry abbot. I promise I won't bite." There's a hint of humor to her words.

You look into her softened eyes and for once, you seek a little comfort. You notice your muscles have tensed down and you sense a small truth to her words. Still hesitant, you mutter an "okay" before you and Wendy continue this little get-to-know-each-other thing, you gradually loosening up and getting more comfortable the more you talk with her.

You and Wendy end up not getting any worksheets done or even starting on anything.

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You sit alone in the classroom, your patience gradually wearing thin as you wait for Wendy to arrive for your next meet-up.

It's nearly been seven minutes past the time the session was originally supposed to begin and Wendy still hasn't shown up or answered any of your questioning text messages regarding where she was.

You lean back in the chair, your feet propped up on the desk as you scroll through your phone to pass the time quickly. After another three minutes or so, Wendy finally arrives with a plastic bag in hand.

She sits in the seat already propped out for her and places her belongings down. "Hey!"

"Hi," you mumble. "You're twelve minutes late."

"My bad, my bad. Just had to go to the store real quick." She lifts the plastic bag, pulling out two water bottles and two bags of candy.

She slides one of the bags and a bottle over to you. "Here."

You never asked her to bring you anything.

You look down and see a bag full of blue raspberry gummy bears all coated in that sour sugar.

Coincidence?

Wendy brought you a bag of blue, sour candies right after you told her the other day that your favorite color was blue and your favorite types of candy were sour?

Maybe you're thinking too much into it since Wendy also bought herself the exact kind of gummies, but your intuition was right because Wendy was, in fact, doing this on purpose. You didn't know it, but this was her subtle way of showing her affection towards you.

You soon noticed a pattern as your sessions continued; Wendy would distract you with questions about yourself, never letting the two of you do any real work, and then the next session she would gift you small things that were or resembled your likings you would've mentioned the day before.

She would be slick about it too because she would never bring attention to the gifts, she would just hand them to you, never bring it up afterward and then continue her distraction question any time you would even think about saying the word algebra.

You can admit, you do appreciate the small gestures from Wendy, but you did not sign up for the two of you to just sit around hanging out and doing nothing productive.

You only volunteered to tutor, not to waste an hour out of your day making conversation with someone who's not even your friend. You might not be scared of her anymore now but you're just barely starting to settle your comfort around her.

You two have already had four sessions now and haven't gone far with anything. The most "work" Wendy's probably done so far is glance at a worksheet..

But you have to hurry up and get some sort of progress in because if the principal finds out you two have just been dilly-dallying the entire time then they won't hesitate to remove you from the program.

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Wendy makes her appearance very known as she busts into the classroom with a mischievous smile, late as usual, and plops down into her seat haphazardly. "Hey, so what's your—"

"We're doing work today."

The charm in Wendy's eyes darkens and her smile fades almost instantly from your sudden interruption. "What?.."

You slam your folder in the middle of the desk and slap a blank worksheet on top of it. "I said, we're doing work today."

Wendy narrows her eyes at you, quirking a brow. "Okay well, it's Friday. So that means today's technically a free day so really we can just start working on assignments next week—"

"—No, Wendy!" you state firmly, making sure to amplify the harshness in the tone of your voice. Your eyes widen slightly as you surprise even yourself with your use of assertion, it's a foreign concept to your usual sweet nature, but you narrow them down back seriously. "If you continue to goof off instead of completing any of your assignments then I'm going to have no choice but to cancel our sessions and find another person to tutor for."

Wendy's taken aback slightly by your change in tone, her impassive expression slightly making you uneasy since you can't tell what she's thinking or how she'll take this, but she doesn't try to fight your words and just ends up sighing, resting her cheek into her palm as she looks off with disinterest. "K.."

Concealing your feelings with a smile, you nod as a wave of relief washes over you, inhaling a jagged deep breath after you had unknowingly held in your breath again and pointing to the first problem on the sheet.

"This is a pretty simple problem to start with. Do you think you can try this out for me?" you ask with a forced tone of enthusiasm just for Wendy to shrug nonchalantly. "I guess."

You hand Wendy one of your pencils and slide the sheet closer to her. "Remember, I'm here for a reason, so whatever step you may get stuck on just ask about it."

Wendy gives you a single nod without looking up at you and stares down at the worksheet, all the numbers and wacky symbols already giving her a headache. Math.. God, the one thing she was trying to avoid doing.

After a minute of Wendy just staring at the paper, not even attempting to jot anything down, you tilt your head. "Do you need any assistance?"

Wendy groans. "No.. No. I'm fine! Just.." She grits her teeth, airing in aggressive breaths as her grip on your pencil intensifies until she punctures the sharp tip of the pencil into the paper, the lead slightly crumbling underneath the force as a tiny hole is formed. Oh no, she's getting stressed.

"Wendy seriously, I—"

"—I got it. Okay?!" she snaps, smoke practically blazing out from her ears. You flinch back from the aggressive tone, just nodding and deciding to stay silent, not wanting to irritate her any more than she already is.

You watch closely as Wendy sketches random lines and numbers, erasing them all and rewriting different ones just to erase those ones as well. Her mind cascades into a whirlwind of panic as the pressure starts to weigh down further on her, beginning to hurriedly jot down random stuff in the hope it will form some sort of sense and refresh her memory.

Wendy doesn't know a single thing she's doing. She never pays attention in her classes, especially not math, so this girl can't even grasp an idea of how to start these stupid equations.

And now she's in front of you, looking like a dumbass as she struggles with a problem that's supposedly supposed to be one of the easiest.

Wendy knows most people look down upon or think lowly of her when it comes to her smartness and knowledge in the core subjects, and of course, she's been one to never give a fuck about their opinions because she can just fight anyone who dares to speak about it, but it's different now that she's stuck in front of you struggling on basic problems, feeling your piercing eyes never leave her.. It makes her feel smaller. Dumber.

Heat radiates off Wendy as her cheeks flush a bitter, crimson red, and her face contorts into a grimace as her mind turns foggy. She's absolutely reached her limit now. She throws your pencil across the room, you ducking sideways just in time, and she buries her face into her palms, groaning in almost a screech and roughly pulling down on the sensitive skin of her face.

"Wendy? What's wrong? What are you struggling with?" you quickly glance down at her paper, seeing all the eraser markings and random numbers.

"Fuc— Everything! I don't fucking know any of this x and y shit!" Wendy blurts out, panically running her fingers through her hair as her face hues a darker red from stress and embarrassment, maybe even shame. "I—I—"

"—Wendy, calm down. Look at me."

She hesitantly lifts her head until you two lock eyes. You bore your vision far into the depths of her dark eyes, frustration clearly displayed outside, but there's also a newfound look of vulnerability you notice as you search deeper—something you've never seen Wendy express.

"I feel so stupid, Y/N.. I-I just don't know what to do," Wendy admits sheepishly, her eyes wavering as she looks down with a burning shame.

"Wendy.. it's okay to not know everything. That's the reason why you were put in tutoring in the first place—so I can help you. (Well..)

There's no need to push yourself down." You reach out to lightly place your hand on her arm but quickly pull back once she stares at you again with her sharp gaze.

Man, now you're talking to Wendy like this? Never has she felt so little, showing this side of her vulnerability to someone, especially to you. But in a way, despite how bashful she may feel right now, there's still a comfort she feels in admitting her weakness to you.

"Come on, look at me," you encourage. She looks back at you and sighs.

"I'll promise to go easy on you and make sure you understand this well enough, you just have to stop avoiding it."

Wendy tenses down and nods. "Okay.."

You smile and pull out your folder again. You pull out a note packet and place it in front of her. "Okay, let's start with refreshing our memory with the basics."

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To both of your surprise, there was a upgrade in progress from Wendy after the next few tutoring sessions.

No, it wasn't and still isn't an easy flow teaching Wendy when you're basically starting from the bottom, but at least you could tell she was actually trying, putting in some kind of effort. Although she still managed to sneak in some distraction questions to steal some minutes of your time; there was just no way Wendy was going to make it through an entire hour doing nothing but work, especially in her most hated subject. Even if it's with you.

She also continued to give you small gifts of the things you liked at the beginning of your sessions and you would still humbly accept them.

"Is this right?.." Wendy asks as she nervously slides the worksheet toward you.

She bites her tongue in anticipation as she watches you inspect her work. You look back over to her with a soft smile and nod. "Mhm, you did this perfectly!"

Wendy's eyes immediately light up, biting her lip as she tries to suppress a smile.

You've also been very observant of Wendy recently. Very.

Her actions, and the way she reacts to certain things.. One thing specifically you've noticed was the way her eyes perk up anytime you're pleased with an equation she solves correctly. She genuinely gets so giddy and smiley, it's almost like she's happy to make to proud.

Or the look of contentment on her face whenever you'd flash her an assuring smile, letting her know that it was okay for her to make mistakes whenever she'd start to become hard on herself.

You've also noticed other things.. Like her piercing obsession.

Both of her ears are pricked with piercings from the bottom to the very top; it almost seems like there's a new one placed in every other session! She has a belly piercing that you've already noticed during earlier meet-ups, a nose piercing, a lip piercing, a tongue piercing?!

And sometimes when she.. free balls it, you catch yourself looking down at her chest and noticing piercings in a little certain area you're too ashamed to admit you enjoy staring at. But hey, you only stare back when they look at you first!

As more time went by, you started to realize that even on days when you two weren't having your sessions, all the images of Wendy's piercings stayed engraved in your mind.

You weren't shy to admit, they were sexy and you did believe they made Wendy more of an attractive person.

But maybe that wasn't the only thing that you felt made her attractive..

Maybe it was the flow of her husky voice every time she spoke, the plumpness of her dark red lips moving keeping you transfixed.

Or maybe it was all the silver rings adorned on her slim fingers clacking against one another.

Or the comforting vanilla musk that trailed her every which way she went, although you did think it didn't really match her vibe.. But maybe that was what you thought made you find it more attractive.

Maybe it was the curve of her slender nose or the contour of her defined cheekbones. Her perfectly smokey makeup or the thick bangs that just barely covered the edge of her eyes as she carefully gazed at you with that look she'd shoot you with each time she was focused on listening to you talk.. the way she'd slowly lick her lips and ever so lightly bite the bottom of her lip.. every 'mhm' she hummed and the gentle nod of comprehension that'd come right after when you would ask her if she understood what you said..

Maybe.

Maybe.. you not only thought these qualities made her an attractive person.. but that these were the specific things that made you attracted to her.

Maybe the flutter in your heart every time you would catch yourself around her all this time wasn't actually out of fear or of not trusting her, but because deep down you were falling for her and that you subconscious was just trying to dismiss those feelings..

And just maybe.. you need to stop thinking 'maybe' to all of these things when you know it's all true.

You can't even try to deny it.

There's no 'maybe' anymore.

You are crushing hard on Wendy.

And normally you would shame yourself for having these feelings, falling for someone like Wendy out of everyone, but there's something about this side of her she's been showing you for the past few weeks and her charms that doesn't make you feel any regrets for feeling this way and only drags you deeper into her love trance

You and Wendy are basically flirting with each other in your sessions now.

She tells you jokes to make you blush, you stare at her in ways that you know will get a bright flush out of her, you two give footsies under the desk, you two bring each other snacks, sharing them, you two just blush at each other when you're not even doing anything!

There really is no hiding it, at this point.

Anyone with vision can clearly see you two want each other.

And you weren't stupid, though maybe a little obvious at first, because as more sessions went on you quickly caught on and realized that all of Wendy's gestures since the very beginning were all planned out and were done with the intent to win you over. And it was working.

Wendy on the other hand still wasn't sure whether or not you were feeling her.

Obviously, she could see the difference in your comfort level with her from the beginning of your sessions to the present, but what if you were only seeing her as friend material at most?.. which of course isn't true because you know you like Wendy, but as long as you don't confess it to her then she won't ever be sure.

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"Okay, solve this last problem for me, and then we'll be done for today," you tell Wendy as you point to one of the unanswered problems sitting on the worksheet.

Wendy nods, beginning to write away, and after no more than two minutes she hands you back the sheet. "Is this right?"

You scan her work and with a simple smile you lift your gaze back to her, humming a gleeful "Yup!"

Wendy blushes and applauds mini claps as she grins widely. "Finally. We're done!" she celebrates, springing up from the seat and picking up her bag.

You follow along with her, gathering all your belongings and putting them up before you throw your bag over your shoulder and follow Wendy out of the classroom, promptly locking the door afterward.

"So, where are you headed to once you leave?" Wendy asks as the two of you strut down the empty halls side by side, barely an inch of distance between you two.

You roll your eyes slightly with a chuckle. "Why do you ask me this every day when you know what my answer's going to be; home."

"Oh yeah.." Wendy mumbles as you roll your eyes again playfully. "So, what are you gonna do when you get home?"

"Study," you tell her simply and she fake gags, muttering "nerd" which results in you playfully shoving her side as you two fall into a mirth of laughter.

As you two exit the building, you feel a sudden buzz come from your phone. You look down and immediately frown, seeing as your mom just now had given you a heads up that she wasn't available to pick you up from school today.

Wendy hears your groan and turns to you. "What?"

"My mom can't pick me up, now I have to order an Uber.." you mutter, crossing your arms.

"Orr.. you could just let me take you home," Wendy blurts in a suggestion, holding her hands up as she holds a shrugging stance. "Just saying."

You shoot her an unsure look, not because of the idea of her wanting to take you home, but because that would mean you would have to ride on her motorcycle. And for someone who's never stepped foot near a motorcycle having someone like Wendy be the first person to drive them on one is kind of a terrifying thought.

"I don't know.."

"Oh come on, it won't be that bad," Wendy assures rolling her eyes.

You narrow your eyes at her. "Sure.."

—

You cling around Wendy for dear life as you scream the entire fifteen minutes on the ride to your house.

Wendy giggles and continuously jokes with you throughout the way, teasing you with scares by randomly swerving or stopping in the middle of the road to tick you off.

As soon as she pulls up to your house you let out a huge sigh of relief. With how she was driving, you thought you weren't going to make it out alive.

As she parks, you continue to keep your head leaned on her shoulder, your arms still wrapped around her waist, squeezing tightly onto her abs.

Starting to blush from your action, Wendy jerks her head, clearing her throat to catch your attention, and you quickly widen your eyes in realization, letting go of her now feeling embarrassed once you see how you remained around her.

You unbuckle and pull off your helmet, handing it back to Wendy and she lazily hangs it on the steering handle. She rotates her body to the side and turns only her head to you as she watches you pull off your backpack and reach inside for your glasses.

You place your glasses on, slipping back on your backpack before looking over to Wendy, immediately locking into her gaze. "I guess I'll go now.." you announce unenthusiastically, prepping yourself to sit up from the motorcycle, but yet you don't find yourself moving.

"Alright.." Wendy says lowly, continuing to stare at you as she waits for you to make your move, but you don't budge. Not even an inch.

You continue to sit, motionless, held in a standstill gazing at Wendy as she shoots you an equal gaze.

She bites the corner of her lips hungrily, you unknowingly wetting yours slightly. The buzzing tension between you two grows as you subtly inch closer to each other; the unknown force between you is practically impossible to resist and the way Wendy's staring at you is so much more different than usual.. The burning intent behind her eyes is unspoken, yet you can understand it so well. And Wendy can see all the desires floating in the pearls of your unwavering eyes, letting her know that you're feeling the same thing she is.

The both of you can already sense what's coming next.

The thumping in your heart beats quicker as you inch closer to the point where both of your legs are pressed against each other. You two continue and continue to hold your hungry gazes until you finally crash your lips together in a heated kiss full of need and longing.

Your hand explores the back of her head, her hand cupping your cheek tightly as the kiss gradually deepens. Her tongue slips past your teeth in search of yours, dancing all around in your mouth and you softly moan at the action.

You two are kissing like you've done this thousands of times with each other.

After a few seconds you two finally pull back breathlessly, your chests heaving up and down and faces red.

"Oh.. wow.." Wendy mumbles, biting her lip as she eyes your numb lips that are now stained with her cherry lipstick.

You feel your cheeks burning, not even knowing what to say, and dart your eyes between Wendy and your house. You stare at her, wrapping your arms around her waist as you pull yourself in impossibly closer against her.

"I want to do that again."

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"Anddd done. Is this good?" Wendy asks, looking down at you with a simpering smile and holding out the sheet with her completed equation.

You take a few seconds to inspect it before placing it on the desk and warmly smiling up at her, silently already letting her know what your answer is. "Yup, you got this correct too!"

Wendy grins, holding her arms tighter around your neck and adjusting herself more comfortably as she sits in your lap. "Woo! You know, that was the fifth one in a row I've gotten correct. Don't I get my reward now?" Her palm rests under your chin, the tips of her fingers gently tilting your head back so your eyes only meet with her gaze.

You hum with a nod and lean in, softly pressing your lips against Wendy's. Your hands continue to hold tightly onto her waist, your nails gently digging into her back while Wendy keeps your head firmly propped up in her hold.

What's supposed to be a quick, innocent kiss quickly escalates into something a little more. You part your lips slightly, allowing her greater access to mingle her warm tongue inside with yours. Her breathy moans against your lips buzz throughout your body and you can taste the metal of her piercing as her needy tongue swirls all around your mouth.

Wendy squeezes her thighs around you tighter, clutching onto your hair in her strong grip and you moan slightly, lifting your eyelids as she gently bites down on your bottom lip. "You've been doing such a good job today." The gentle praise vibrates against her lips, sending needy chills up her spine and eliciting a sheepish giggle to bubble out as her cheeks flush a rosy pink. You smile smugly at the way you can make her shy so easily and lick her bottom lip into another messy kiss.

Yeah, uhh.. so you two do that now.

Ever since that afternoon of you guys' first kiss, a new relationship has been blooming between the two of you.

You're not officially dating, but you know you two have made it way past the friend stage now, and by this point, you two do know you like each other.. so why aren't you together?

That's a very good question that neither of you can answer.

Aside from trying to figure out this complicated relationship, you two are incredibly flirty and touchy with each other now, clearly.

Of course, though, only during the tutor sessions; you two act like no more than strangers during the school day, but sometimes during the one class you two share, Wendy will discreetly slide you little trinkets or candies as she walks past your desk.

Also, to bring context about that abrupt make-out session.. a method that you two have thought up to help encourage Wendy, even more, to complete her assignments and get them done correctly is treating her with a kiss for each equation she solves correctly on the first try. And this strategy has worked like a charm.

Like, of course, Wendy will do everything to try her very hardest so that she'll be able to share a kiss with you and hear the sweet praises you love to sneak in between that you know drives her crazy. How could she pass that up?!

You two continue to messily moan into each other's mouths, your hands eagerly exploring all around each other's bodies and the kiss becoming sloppier and losing more meaning as you two melt further into each other.

Right as Wendy's hand slides down to your lower abdomen, daring to try taking this heated make-out session into the direction of something further, she's interrupted as two firm knocks are heard from outside the door.

Now, who would be trying to come in here at this time?

Wendy groans, lazily pressing a series of kisses against your lips until she finally pulls back. She looks down at you in a daze, a smile quickly lifting the corners of her lips as she notices her lipstick smudged all over and around your lips. She places her thumb over your soft cheek, swiping away some of the lipstick before she pushes herself off of you and heads towards the door.

Wendy opens the door, her expression flipping like a light switch as a mean mug already plays on her sharp features, but she softens up just slightly once she sees it's only Mrs. White outside. "Hello, girls!"

As Wendy says her greeting, the older woman notices both of your faces, seeing that deep red stained messily all around your mouths.

She furrows her eyebrows in question but quickly shakes it off knowing she'd rather mind her business and not know what you two had been doing prior.

"What brings you here?" you ask as you discreetly try to wipe your mouth, Wendy's lipstick staining brightly onto the back of your hand.

"I'm just here to check up on everyone's progress, to see how well we've all been doing." She walks towards the desk you're sitting at, tapping her pen against her clipboard and clicking her tongue as she turns to look at Wendy. "And I especially need to check up on this one."

Wendy rolls her eyes while you cover your mouth in a silent chuckle.

"Yeah yeah, whatever." Wendy lazily flops down back in her seat as Mrs. White leans against the teacher's desk.

"Wait, so what are we supposed to show you?" Wendy asks, folding her arms under her chest.

"Just try your best to solve some problems on your own. And you," Mrs. White looks over in your direction, "ask her some questions about what you two have been working on so far to see how well she can answer them."

You nod in response and grab your folder, pulling out a sheet of notes. You and Wendy shoot each other one last preparing look, letting out a sigh before you two begin.

Mrs. White is astonished once she sees Wendy actually answering your questions correctly and solving these equations all by herself without even asking or looking over to you for any assistance. Yes, she might've gotten some wrong, but looking at the fact a majority of the problems she solved were correct was just enough for Mrs. White to put a smile on her face.

"Wow, Wendy. I can't believe you've improved so much! I'm seriously so proud of you."

Well, Wendy definitely can't say she hears that "proud" word told to her often. Wendy rolls her eyes, playing a smug smile as she blushes. "Yeah, you should be proud of me!"

Mrs. White shakes her head with a sigh and turns her focus over to you. "And you, Y/N. You've done an excellent job at tutoring Wendy; I don't think I've ever seen growth this significant in such a short time. I'm proud of you both."

You smile coyly, sharing your words of gratitude before Wendy groans and starts to shoo her off. "Okay this is getting too sappy for me, you can get out now."

Mrs. White holds up a pointing finger at Wendy, pursing her lips as she fights to stay professional with her words before she shakes her head, fanning off Wendy, and waves her last goodbye at you as she exits the room.

Once the door closes, Wendy looks over to you, grinning wildly seeing how your arms are already spread out for her.

She steps around the desk, straddling back into your lap and places her hands on your cheeks.

"Now, where did we leave off?"

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As more weeks go by, Wendy only progresses more and more.

If someone had seen her after not knowing who she was a few months ago, they would've never guessed this math genius was the same person.

She's improved so well to the point that it seems like she didn't even need the last few tutoring sessions she had just because she was that good! The grade in her algebra class has skyrocketed to percentages that no one would've believed she could ever achieve, and not only that, but you've also motivated her to take her other classes seriously too!

Of course, they haven't succeeded in advancing as well as her math grade, but at least she was finally turning in her work on time for once in all these years.

Also, Wendy's been so distracted in wanting to impress you, to please you, and to make you happy that she hasn't stumbled herself into any trouble or drama! No fights, no skipping, no detentions, no suspensions. None.

Wendy never expected to go this far with math, let alone any other subjects! It's so crazy for Wendy to think all she needed to take school seriously and become a (sort of) changed woman was to drag a hot, nerdy girl into her life.

The two of you sit on the bench outside the front of the school after you guys finally finish your last tutoring session of the year.

Your head comfortably lays on Wendy's shoulder as you two stare off into the orangey-pink hues of the nearing sunset. As she gently rubs on your thigh continuing to stare off into the sunset, she can't help but want to express the thought that's been lingering in the back of her mind for a while now. She turns over to you, barely parting her lips.

"Are we dating?"

Your ears perk up at the sudden question, turning only your head to her. "Are we?"

You two, after all these weeks and months, still haven't confirmed anything between each other. Why??

Why do you two have to be so complicated??

"I mean, we touch each other like we're a couple, we gaze at each other like we're a couple, and we definitely kiss like we're a couple.."

You turn the rest of your body to her and smirk, placing your hand on her waist and scooting in closer to her. "Well, then I guess you've found your answer."

Wendy blushes and looks down before she meets back with your gaze. "Well, can we go ahead and, you know, confirm it with each other—make it official? Our whole dynamic is going to confuse me even more if we don't put any official label on each other soon."

You giggle coyly and tilt your head. "Alright then. Will you be my gir—"

Before you can finish the sentence, you feel a finger forced onto your lips. You furrow your brows while Wendy shakes her head.

"No, I want to be the one to ask you it!"

You pull her finger down and shake your head slowly as you try to hide a laugh. "Alright then."

Wendy holds onto your hands, interlocking your fingers and squeezing you tightly.

"Y/N.." Wendy starts with a shaky breath, the intense blush on her cheeks taking over as she struggles to not stray her eyes away from you out of shyness. Wendy.. being shy. Once again, only you can do this to her, make her feel like this. "Will you.. be my girlfriend?"

You squeeze her hands tighter, your knuckles turning whiter and flashing her a bright smile. "As long as you'll be mine."

And with that left off as the final words, you two lean in, sealing your relationship with a gentle but strong and promising kiss.

i REALLY hope you guys enjoyed this..

— Seulgiwifee ໒꒰ྀི♡˵ᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ꒱ྀི১

[queenie-the-court-jester]

yandere circus - Wendy the sad clown

Wendy's intro! Not proofread 🌺 just unedited rambling

🤡ever since you got accepted Into the circus, Wendy and the other clowns have been following you around where ever you went. Helping you with whatever chores you have waiting to be done

⭐ learning a little bit about her, you started to understand her quiet and anxious nature. Growing up she'd been the youngest out of 5, the only full blooded child from a divorced couple. Both parents having been in previous relationships and had children with their previous partners.

🤡one of her sisters on her mother's side was the black sheep of the family, having exposed herself to the internet (despite the mother's strict teachings and attempts to hide phones and tablets) at a young age and growing rebellious. Self harming, fighting, screaming with their mom. It got so bad the maternal figure had to send her to the spych ward multiple times due to near death experiences the older sister put the mother through

⭐having watched all of this, it was understandable why her mental and emotional health was so low. Multiple other events happened but she refused to tell you the rest, claiming she didn't want to scare you away

🤡you were the only thing that made her feel better after waking up in this strange world. Maybe this was the universe's way to tell her she found her spouse? Sending them to a distant land with no way to escape

⭐ sometimes you'd randomly wake up to see her standing over your bed, sniffling and crying quietly as she wiggled her way into your bed. Cuddling onto your chest and resting a leg ontop of your thighs. Giving your neck a little kiss and going back to sleep. You didn't bother asking what was wrong, since you already knew she'd never tell you

🤡 if you were ever busy and she was close by, she'll play with your hair or hands, waiting for you to finish before dragging you where ever she saw fit. She's very touchy feely, and seems to really like when it's reciprocated. But if you ever pull away, she'd visibly deflate and sulk for the rest of the evening

⭐ her makeup consists of mainly blues, pinks and yellows. Face caked in a white foundation giving her skin a porcelain look, a large heart drawn over her right eye. With a star on her left. The iconic red lipped smile and a red button nose hastily drawn and a little smudged. Rosy cheeks just begging to get pinched. Hair let loose and messily wavy

🤡she always gets nervous before a performance and understandably so, needing to be hyped before she can get into her role. Which isn't very hard. She's meant to be Koko, the sad and deppressed clown. Rings many bells honestly

⭐ she's emotionally dependent on the others if you're not around. Sticking to their sides like glue and conversing. She seems to like hearing people talk and ramble instead of talking herself. A girl of few words you could say

[harrywavycurly]

I’m watching Peter Pan (the animated one it’s my fave) and imagine Eddie in his mid twenties as Captain Hook. He’d have his long hair, a great hat, the coat and instead of calling his ship the Jolly Rodger it would simply be called his sweetheart. But since Eddie is Hook let’s say Steve is Peter Pan and brings Wendy aka you also in your twenties to Neverland, Eddie makes it his mission to meet you because you’re all the island is talking about and he can’t do that without the help of Smee who would have to be Dustin.

“What’s so special about this Wendy?” Eddie huffs as he sits at his desk so he can look at his map of Neverland. “Why do people love her so much?” Dustin quickly brings Eddie a cigarette so he can work on looking for the hiding spot of this Wendy person and for some reason a cigarette always helps Eddie focus.

“I hear she’s really good at telling stories.” Dustin answers as he helps Eddie out of his jacket so he’s more comfortable. “Like ones about mermaids and pirates.” Eddie turns his head so he’s now glaring at the back of Dustin who is pouring him a glass of wine.

“Pirates?” Dustin just nods as he not so secretly takes a sip of the wine making his face scrunch up out of disgust. “What does she know about pirates?” Dustin shrugs as he hands Eddie the glass.

“I’m not sure maybe she just likes them?” Eddie smirks as he takes a sip of his wine.

“Well then,” Dustin raises an eyebrow as Eddie stands up and takes a long drag of his cigarette before motioning for Dustin to grab his coat and hat making Dustin huff as he rushes to grab his going out coat. “We simply must meet her.”

[tonks-21]

Fairy tail headcanons of Gray Fullbuster as a older brother to a younger sister who is five years younger than him (she is a year older than Wendy)..she has ice make magic. She has Elizabeth's personality from the seven deadly sins and her clumsiness

Team Natsu's relationship with Gray's little sister.

Gray Fullbaster as your older brother ( + Natsu's team !) | Fairy Tail | Request

TW: mention of sadness, anger feelings, mother instincts over reader not real siblings relationship... +18

Type of content: Fluff, slice of life

Since Gray met you he respected your boundaries a lot, if you tell him not to say some kind of stuff, he won't.

But if he is sure you need to have a discussion about something, he will push until you let it go.

Because he always wants the best for you.

And if it means to break in his arms, that will do.

Gray is always looking after you.

You aren't always at first hour at the guild, but if you don't appear at your usual hour, he'd be worried.

One of the first days in which he had to take care of you, you fell asleep and he stepped in your department to look if it was a casualty or you were in real danger.

This man always wants to go with you to your missions.

Even though they are simple and boring ones to someone of his level, he'd prefer to go and look personally after you.

Gray obviously trusts the other members, he developed some kind of overprotection over you that makes him uncomfortable and even nervous if you aren't around and you are probably facing an enemy.

As you use ice magic too, Gray'd teach you.

But in a slower way than his master did with him.

He just can't put you in extreme situations, sure you train hard, but you won't start holding on 24/7 with ice cold the very first week.

He likes to give you headpats if you are smaller than him and backpats if you are taller or when you get taller.

If you carry a bag, you'd probably have some of his clothes in it to give them to him when he forgets to wear his own.

Natsu and Happy usually invite you to a mission, as you want to try harder challenges and, with their team, and even more, your brother in it, it would be such an experience.

Although Gray complains about it, Lucy is already picking a mission, Erza by your side, with her arm over your shoulders, giving arguments about how you've improved your ice magic in the last month and Happy... well, trying to convince him by saying that you'd be left alone, there, without anything to do and that type of stuff.

They love you a lot. You are like one of the team and a little sister to all of them, even though you do not always go with them.

But they consider you so.

And how not? You are always so kind and cute and willing to help when there is a problem.

You may not be the best, but you put your life on it, and that's why they appreciate your presence.

Well, that and the fact that you always were capable of mediating between the boys.

Gray'd listen to you as Natsu will complain a bit but would leave it there and Happy would hide behind you to not get hurt by some  magic.

But if you turn serious or sad they'll stop even complaining.

It may not be the same as Erza, but they have a huge soft spot for you.

Lucy always wants to talk to you, you two are so close and understand each other, even though you are younger, she can feel she can trust you.

She'd do anything for you as the good friend she is.

Erza has like mother instincts over you.

If you didn't read the mission you chose, somehow she'd know and question you about that.

But she'd protect you with her life, that's for sure.

Natsu? Natsu always wants to stop and eat with you.

He feels safe eating with you, it's a strange sensation, but it's like peace and he is comfortable so he just leaves it that way.

And Happy loves to talk to you. It's just so funny the way you two can digress about.. nearly everything and just let your mind shoot random words and ideas from your mouth. You two talk a lot when you have to walk or take a transport to get to the mission.

Thank you sm for reading :D Hope you enjoyed!

[kwnnys]

WENDY X FEM READER???? eric insulting reader and wendy standing up for her gf?!?!?

— class fight

oneshot : fem reader a/n : wendy is such a girlboss tbh i love her so much warning(s) : mentions of homophobia + f slur

you opened your locker, grabbing your books and supplies for your next class.

"well well, if it isn't the f#g!" you heard a familiar squeaky voice speak and your lips curved into a frown.

turning around, you're met with the one and only eric cartman. "what do you want now, cartman?" you scoff and the boy shrugs.

"oh nothingg, just wanted to make fun of your ugly outfit today!" the boy laughed and you rolled your eyes, turning away from him and continuing to grab your things.

"I mean seriously, how did you even get a girlfriend? I wouldn't date you for a million bucks!" your fists clench and you're about to make a snarky remark, before hearing a loud smack.

you turn your head and see your girlfriend, wendy with her sleeves rolled up and cartman on the ground, wincing in pain.

"what the-"

"don't you ever talk about y/n like that you fatass, or else next time I'lll smack your face with a brick instead!" the raven haired girl spat, and you stared at her in shock.

wendys head turns to you before mumbling, "are you ok? don't let his words get to you"

your lips curve into a smirk and you pull her in for a hug, "dude, wendy! that was so fucking cool!" you squeal, giving her a peck on the cheek.

"someone had to teach that fatass a lesson" she chuckled, rolling her sleeve down.

"but yeah Im alright, don't worry about it" she smiles and wraps her arm around your waist, "I love you" you grin and kiss her lips, her face flushes and she coughs.

"I love you too, lets get to class before the bell rings"

[yoyomomiko]

Bebe Steven’s with a tall fem reader (headcanons)

Let’s just say reader is the same age and grade as the characters but she has a massive growth spurt at age 6!

Taller than you...

Pairings: Bebe x F!reader

Summary: The request >⁠.⁠<

Warnings: None!! ^⁠_⁠^

(A/N): So I just noticed this laying around in my drafts😀 I'M SO SORRY I JUST NOTICED IT AND I CONTINUED IT😭 This was made in like May or something it's been months I'm soooo sorry I feel so bad now😭 -> m.list

- First off, before your growth spurt, you were the SHORTEST, and pretty much everybody used to pick on you. But Bebe came to the rescue and shut them off >:)

- Summer started, and you finally turned six.

- You did NOT expect to just grow like that, you were growing all summer, and you reached a tall height, way above average for a six year old...

- You weren't complaining, that meant nobody would pick on you anymore!! You felt cooler like that.

- Once you went back to school, EVERYONE who used to pick on you just stood there in shock. You were now taller than them? No more "short stuff"? No more "I could accidentally step on you"?

- You stood at a tall height, wich intimidated some. Actually, some kids even apologized for what they've done before, afraid that they'd get their ass run over.

- Bebe was SHOCKED.

- "Since when?" "How did you do it?" "How does that even work?"

- She bombarded you with questions. I guess that's just kinda what happens when nobody sees you for the whole summer break, and then you come back to school on the first day, looking like a street pole to the rest of the kids.

- To any adult, they'd just brush it off, but to the rest?? NO WAY.

- Cartman still picked on you though, now teasing with "How's the weather up there?" and all that annoying stuff.

- Bebe still came to your rescue >:)

- She loved loved LOVED the way you were taller, the hugs just hit different.

- Hugging you was the best part of the whole day to her.

- She loved it when she'd struggle to get something that was placed a little too high for her, and then you came and helped her reach it.

- Bebe kinda likes it way more that way, although she could care less about your height or appearance. She loved you, and to her, that's what matters.

- But still, the height was a nice bonus!!

- Would sometimes PRETEND she can't reach stuff on the top shelf, when all she had to do was get on her tip toes. She just wanted you to help her (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

- But then Wendy would sigh, reach the top shelf for her and give her the item, to wich Bebe quickly put back up on the top shelf, narrowing her eyes at her.

- "WENDY, go away!" She would shoo the poor girl away as she'd just chuckle at Bebe's desperation to get your attention again.

- Wendy shipped you two the most, she thought you two were adorable.

★★★

Bebe was 'trying her best' to reach the glue from the top shelf. The classroom was pretty much empty except for Wendy, you, her and Stan. She was 'struggling', pretending that the glue was just out of reach. She kept turning her head around, trying to catch a glimpse of you to see if you were coming to help her. Fortunately for her, you walked up to her and offered your help. She tried to hide her smirk, and just nodded at you.

You easily reached and gave her the glue, to wich she smiled and batted her eyelashes at you. "Thanks, [nickname]." She gave you a quick peck on the cheek, as a gesture of gratitude and appreciation for helping her. You blushed, only nodding in response. "What would I do without you?" She batted her eyelashes up at you again, tilting her head up, overdramatizing the whole situation. It was straight out of a 2000's rom-com. You didn't complain, you thought she was cute when she joked like that.

Wendy chuckled at Bebe, glancing back and forth from the two of you. Stan just had his face burried into his arms, wich were resting on his desk. He groaned into them, trying to avoid looking at the two of you. He's acting like he and Wendy aren't worse...

★yoyomiko ★miko

[natmalfoy]

Authors Notes:

angst, not a happy ending, mentions of d3ath, draco is kinda a dick. this work is written by natmalfoy, don’t steal. i take suggestions.

word count: 1,448.

just wrote a short draco x [y/n] oneshot based on the song peter by taylor swift and i absolutely adore it. i love that song so much, and i (coincidentally) also adore the movie disney made on peter pan, so i guess you can say i’m an expert on peter and wendy’s dynamic lol. draco in this fic is peter, and [y/n] is wendy. i might post it on my ao3 later, let me know what you think.

I wont confess that I waited.

The young woman’s fingers delicately pressed against the cold, marble, window sill. Her chest began to feel heavy once again as she looked out to the scenery peeking out. The dark trees from the forest created a large shadow in which the woman felt alone. She stood from the loveseat against the sill, trailing the tip of her fingers against the popcorn like bumps on the walls. She dragged her feet, which seemed to be working against her, taking herself back to her bed. The days were long and empty. Her days consisted of sitting in her excuse of a library reading the same three books. Walking in the loosely tended garden while the bottom of her dress got dirty from the piles of dirt and fertilizer. Making tea, and sipping on it until it became too frigid that she had to toss it out. She waited until the day he would arrive, once again.

It had been three years since she saw Draco. Three long excruciatingly long years. 1,095 days of waiting until she’d given up her hope for him to return. He left her due to her safety in regards to the Dark Lord. Once the Dark Lord had fallen he went mad. He was left with the self portrayals of being a monster, and as well as the man who seemed to need to protect all of those who he loved. So he left her. Draco fled with his Mother and Father into hiding, scared from what would be the outcome of the world, and it tore her soul. Before Draco fled, she felt loved. He protected her, embraced her, assured her. He took care of her scars from battle, and conjured her fears into a loving dream. He knew how to make her feel seen, and known. Something that no one in her 20 years of life ever could.

It was vulnerable. Their love was hidden, hushed away in secret. Something so out of reach, but so close that she could taste it. But he never loved her enough, and that’s what hurt. She would’ve fled with him, would’ve never seen the light of day again. How she longed to be in his arms, embraced by his delicate touch that she came to love. The little amount of time the two had together gave the young woman fireworks in her stomach, more than she had ever felt. He knew her. He knew her body and her scars. He knew the the amount of moles she had painted on her arms, which formed constellations on her tan skin. He knew the placement of each stretch mark on her hip. He knew how when she cried her cheeks got red, before her nose did. He knew her lips would go dry after she drank too much wine. He knew her nose would scrunch when she tasted something unpleasant. He knew every little minute detail about her, yet he left her with so much more he could give. All she was left with was with what could it have become. What if’s crossed her mind often. What if Draco had never been selected by the Dark Lord to carry out the deed. What if Draco wasn’t forced into becoming a death-eater. What if the prophecy wasn’t in Lucius’ hands. The woman sighed, as she made her way into her empty bed. The left side always empty, waiting for Draco’s arrival. The black silk sheets gave her more uneasiness, rather than comfort, and the thin, fleece comforter made her more cold than warm. The woman propped herself up on her right side, reaching her land to turn of the lights. Her wand swished, and a glow floated from it, slowly collecting each ray of light from the lamps in her room. She placed down the wand on the wooden nightstand, and returned to lay on her back. She began to close her eyes, and in a way, begged for sleep to take her away faster. As in her dreams, was the only place she had felt happiness since Draco’s absence. As she drifted, her eyelashes fluttered from a small light coming from a gap of the emerald silk curtains draped over the large window. She forced herself to be awoken and reached for her wand. She stood, in a shaky fear. The person on the other side began to tap on the glass, making her gulp. As she placed each step on the ground and walked further, she felt her fear turn into relief. Her muscles relaxed, as well as her grip on her wand. It felt safe. Her gentle fingers found their way to the curtain, and with patience, revealed what stood on the other side. It was a man with icy, blonde hair. His cheekbones and jaw as sharp as a knife. The man had scars on his eyebrows, and one on his lip, which seemed to have been healed, yet permanent. His blueish grey eyes looked like large swimming pools on a gloomy summer’s day. She recognized him immediately. It was him.

A gasp left her lips as she dropped her wand in shock. Her nimble hands rushed to the locks of the window, rusted from the last time she had opened them. Her heart swelled. Adrenaline ran through her bones as she pushed up the window to open it. “Draco,” The woman began, but she didn’t know if she was upset or thrilled. The man’s eyes wandered around the room until they placed themselves back on hers.“You look different. You know,” Draco smiled sheepishly, his teeth as bright as they were before, “I wanted to come and see you earlier.” Her smile faded as she remembered the state of things. Her heart beat faster then a drum, and her stomach fluttered seeing the man she felt that was intertwined to her heart and soul. But it made her yearn, yearn for their past. “It’s been three years, why did you come now?” Her heart began to hurt as Draco hunched over and crawled into the bedroom. Memories fled her mind of when the two were still in school, and so many things had changed. She forced herself to move on, because she was convinced he’d never come back. She painted over the silly doodles Draco painted on her walls and changed the curtains to match. She changed her large bed frame to one that was smaller so it felt like she would be less alone. Memories of Draco in this very room infiltrated her mind, things that she taught herself to forget all came running back. It hurt.

“I had to grow up, [Y/N], can you blame me? My life had to change after the war. I wasn’t a kid anymore.” Draco’s eyes pleaded for the woman’s. “My parents could’ve been killed.”He began, excuses shooting out of his mouth like daggers to her heart. “I had to protect them.”The woman turned his back towards him, almost as a defense from him invading her heart once again. The man she once knew and loved claimed to grow up, but he was exactly the same before he’d left. “And me?” She began, the amount of sorrow built up over the years or waiting for him to return, his expectations finally letting his feet reach the ground began to spew words without her consent. “I could’ve been killed. I had no one there to protect me, Draco.” Her words cut deeper than a knife, and the room was silent besides the occasional shaky breath coming from either one of them. Draco, who expected a different reaction from her, was at a loss of words. His brows furrowed at her suggestion. “Do you think it was easy for me to leave you? I wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep you safe, [Y/N]. I couldn’t have come running to you, they would’ve gotten to you.” She scowled, her eyes looking in every direction besides his. “You said you would come and get me when it was safe. I tried, Draco. I tried to hold on to you. To hold on to us. I had to let go.” Draco flinched at her words and attempted to get near her, yet it felt like with each step he took the farther she went away.

“I never let go of you, [Y/N]. I hope you know that. I forced myself to stay with my parents each day, but every morning when I woke up, I longed for you.”

His words rang in her ears, and although she wanted to give in, it was too late.

She grew up, and he didn’t.

[badaspebble]

Requests are open!

About Me

You can call me Lace or Ria if we wanna be formal

20, she/her

I write for Bada, Aespa, Red Velvet, BlackPink, Girls Generation, Mamamoo, BTS, Stray Kids, Marvel, and other SWF contestants as well. I might write for many other groups that aren't listen so just ask! (Currently only have Bada written so send in some requests pls….)

I write for fem!reader, and nb!reader. sorry babes

・❥・

[spiderrmax]

wendy testaburger girlfriend texts ☆

synopsis: what the title says :) warnings: reader is female, the relationship between the reader & wendy is described as gay, & a teensy bit of cartman slander author's note: happy pride!! this request seemed most fitting. i appreciate the love for the fake texts & am working on my other requests currently <3 also enjoy the references to tfbw; wendy was my fav in that game

[1luvkarina]

red velvet

fics 🝮 italicized | smaus 🝮 bolded | smut 🝮 bold & italicized

𝐼𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑒

ఌ - 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵

𝑆𝑒𝑢𝑙𝑔𝑖

ఌ - crush

ఌ - blind date

ఌ - sick days

𝑊𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑦

ఌ - 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵

𝐽𝑜𝑦

ఌ - 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵

𝑌𝑒𝑟𝑖

ఌ - 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵

𝑂𝑇5

ఌ - 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘵

[seulgiwifeee]

The Toddler || Red Velvet

♡ Member: OT5 x 6th member*Femreader

♡ Theme: Comedy, low-key mystery?

♡ Warning: Doesn't take place in recent time? More like somewhere between 2018 - 2019

♡ Description: Yeri's turned into a toddler. Yup, a toddler, and turned into an absolutely terrible one at that(at least her adorableness makes up for it). But now you and your members have to spend an entire day taking care of this puppy-sized demon, keep her out of trouble and try not to go insane as you all figure out how to turn her back to her old self.

Word count: 9.4k

(Very unserious)

তততততততততততততততততততততততততততততত

"Y/N-AH! COME HERE! QUICKLY!"

Being rudely awoken out of your early morning slumber by the sudden call, you lazily rub the sleep from your eyes and stretch out your back with a strained yawn before sitting up from your bed. You glance around the dark and empty room groggily, your eyes barely adjusted to the dark lighting so it takes a few seconds longer for you to notice the two vacant beds where you were expecting to see Irene and Seulgi taking their rest in, though, they're nowhere to be seen.

You slightly frown in confusion at their disappearance, but you quickly shrug it off, knowing your energy's too low and your curiosity isn't piqued enough to care about them or their whereabouts as your only main focus right now is figuring out who called out for you and why they thought it was okay to disrupt you amidst your blissful dreams.

Slipping on your house shoes and muttering frustrated curses under your breath, you leisurely make your exit out of the bedroom and follow where you heard the earlier voice.

As you drag your feet further into the living room you roll your eyes almost instantly, your eyes landing on the huddled group of your members standing near the couch. None of them pay any notice to you as you approach them closer, and they continue to hold their heads down, silently staring at whatever lies in the center of their circle. Oh god.. What did they do this time? (You and your members are always finding yourselves doing stupid things and getting yourselves in some kind of trouble so it wouldn't be any surprise to you if they've dug themselves into another situation. But you don't have a single clue as to what mess these five could've possibly gotten themselves into at this time of hour..)

"It's too early for thisss.." you drag out in a whiny groan, still cranky from the disruption of your morning rest. "What going on? Who called out for me? And why are you all huddled around like that? What are you looking at— I— Uh— Y-Yeri?"

Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing could've prepared you for what your eyes would lay on as you pushed between Joy and Irene to investigate what had stolen everyone's attention.

You thought at worst that maybe it would've been a dead bug or rodent, a broken dish or a leak from upstairs. Maybe they were just holding some sort of ritual, or maybe they were playing some annoying game that involved them huddling around each other creepily while calling you out of your sleep at four in the morning to purposely get you all cranky.

Well no. It was none of those. Not even close.

"Yes.. that's Yeri," Irene mutters back absentmindedly, continuing to stare down with a look of disbelief.

You're definitely wide awake now and you blink your eyes rapidly as your vision makes shape of the now toddler form of your youngest member who's looking up, giving you all a look that shows she's just as confused as you are.

Yeri's a toddler now?!

No— This can't be! This isn't real! This has to be some sort of dream!

You pinch yourself once, then twice, and even a third time, yet nothing in front of you changes..  there isn't a white void spreading around the room.. and the world around you doesn't seem to be shrinking or getting any smaller either..

Welp, you're not dreaming.

You crinkle your nose and squint your eyes as you observe the child with a more intense look of scrutiny; from the large, doll-like eyes sheltered behind her wispy lashes to the distinct mole in the center of her nose down to the soft curve of her Cupid's bow this little girl is quite literally identical to the Yeri you all know and love and there's no room to try and deny it.

"This is a prank.. right? Or are we collectively hallucinating the same thing right now and going insane?"

"Not at all.." Wendy mutters, slowly shaking her head.

"Unless you count me being woken up to that child sleeping all up under me and snoring in my ear, not seeing Yeri in her bed or anywhere in the dorm even though all of her belongings including her phone which you know she'd never leave alone were still there, every time I called out for Yeri that child would respond or the fact that she's literally wearing the exact heart print pajama set Yeri wore to bed a hallucination.." Joy grumbles all at once.

"Joy had called everyone to the living room, and once me and Joohyun came in here to see what Joy was fussing about, that's when we saw this toddler, but when we tried to speak to her she wouldn't say a word to us and has just been staring at us like.. that.. since. So we've all just been staring back at her. I think she might be scared." Seulgi adds.

"Oh?.." You scrunch your eyebrows. Well, of course, a child is more than likely going to be terrified if five women double their size who they don't know are surrounding them while they all silently stare down at them. Anyone would be.

You take a step closer to the toddler. "So, you guys are certain, 100% positive that this is Yeri and not some random child who broke into our dorm?"

Everyone nods quietly.

You have so.. so many questions that probably won't get answered, but for right now you just need to figure out how much this supposed Yeri truly knows.

You squat down to the little girl's level, letting your chin rest in your palms as you speak in a gentle, more inviting tone. "Yeri?"

She's responsive to your call, spinning her entire body around to face you and tilting her head, indicating that she's listening.

"Do you know who I am? Who any of us are?"

She stays silent for a couple of seconds, still staring at you with a deadpan expression before poking a finger at your chest with a cheesy grin. "Y/N-ie!"

Your eyes widen and you slightly jump, taken aback by the abruptness of the change in her energy and the unexpected poke. "Uh—Yes! That's right! I am Y/N! Who's she?" Your pointer finger leads in Seulgi's direction.

She follows your finger, her eyes lighting up once she spots Seulgi. "It's Seulgi!" she exclaims, hopping up and down as she claps.

Seulgi clutches her mouth, blushing and cheesing hard into her palm with a tiny squeal, the little one's smile instantly melting her heart. "Ack! She's so cute?!"

The rest of your members utter small noises of awe at the toddler's adorableness and quickly kneel around her, asking all at once to see if she also knows their names. Along with that, they completely just overwhelm her with a bunch of random questions that they know only Yeri could answer right.

Despite the absolute pressure you'd expect the little one to be facing from all of these bombarding questions, she answers every last one of your inquiries correctly without a single stutter or moment of hesitation. And with everything that was needed answered, you all also find out that she even remembers that she's a singer and that you're all together in the girl group Red Velvet.

So it's confirmed. Somehow, in some odd, surreal way, the adorable toddler standing amongst you all is 100% without a doubt your Yeri.

The only error in this discovery is that she doesn't realize or believe that she's supposed to be an adult. No matter how many times you all try to explain to her that she was a twenty-year-old just five hours ago, she's still not comprehending that she's "changed" and keeps insisting to you all that she's only three.

And despite Yeri being able to remember every aspect of her idol life, you also realize that she for some reason doesn't envision any of those memories of herself being in her adult form, which would mean that whatever memories she holds from performing on stage, attending shows or just being with you guys, you're all still the same you, the same age, but Yeri would remember herself as her three-year-old self, maybe even younger—five adults and a three-year-old all in a girl group together, sharing a dorm and casually hanging out with each other.

Yeah, that kinda isn't clicking or sitting right with any of you.

"So Yeri, do you remember what you did before you went to bed last night?" you ask, idly twirling the curls of her hair around your finger.

"I watched a movie and drank hot chockie and went to sleep!"

You furrow your eyebrows. "Oh, uh.. is that it? You didn't do anything else? Nothing weird or unexpected happened?"

Yeri shakes her head in forceful sways, her hair swinging all around dramatically. You look up at your members and purse your lips. "Well.. that didn't give us any help."

"Guys, should we tell someone about Yeri?.." Wendy suddenly asks, but Irene disapproves of the idea almost immediately, aggressively shaking her head. "Are you crazy? That's just going to create a bunch of unnecessary panic and chaos, and that's the last thing we want.

It's our day off and none of us have anything important to do. We'll have enough time before the end of the day to research and find an explanation and solution for what happened to Yeri."

"Wait— Guys, maybe there was something in the hot chocolate that changed her?" Seulgi suggests.

"What? No— It couldn't have!" Joy quickly dismisses. "Me and Joohyun also drank some last night but obviously you can see that we're not toddlers."

"I mean, we don't know that for sure.." Wendy buts in, a teasing grin curving her lips, "Just because you two aren't toddlers now doesn't necessarily mean you still don't have a chance of turning into one later. It's probably going in order from youngest to oldest and since Yeri's the youngest that means you're up next."

Joy cringes and scoffs at Wendy's theory, forcefully shoving her shoulder. "Eughh, shut up! I'm not turning into a toddler!"

"Yeah, you are!"

Joy and Wendy begin to go back and forth with each other, arguing whether or not if Joy's going to turn into a toddler soon.

"Guys, enough!" Irene scolds, immediately pulling Wendy and Joy out of their petty argument, "Can we try to get back serious? We still have an entire child right here who needs to be taken care of!"

You nod along to Irene's words, "Yeah, so while we try to figure out how to turn Yeri back or why she even turned in the first place we also need to figure out what to do with her and how to take care of her."

Everyone nods and hums, but it seems Joy must've had a different idea in mind of what she had intended to spend her time doing as she looks at you all with a grimace and down at her phone, checking the time. "Uhm.. it's 5 am on a Sunday, also my day off, and I'm kinda tired and didn't plan to do another of this so I'm going back to bed. You guys can go ahead and take care of all of that without me." And before any of you can utter a word of protest, Joy's already up and gone, speed-walking back to her room.

"Seriously, Sooyoung?!" You shoot the closed bedroom door an affronted look, sinking into the betrayal from Joy's sudden departure.

Seeing you're all still frozen in disbelief and not paying any attention her way, Wendy uses that distraction as her cue to make her slow but not in any way slick attempt to ease her way out of the circle.

You all notice her immediately. "Um, Wendy?"

Her breath hitches once she feels your gazes on her and she pauses her movements, her face flushing in embarrassment. "I.. Uh.. I'm not really in the mood to take care of any kids right now and uh.. ima just.. yeah.." Wendy slithers into the room with Joy, locking the door.

You turn over to the remaining two, rolling your eyes. "Well, that's two members down. Anyone else trying to abandon me watch Yeri all alone?"

Irene quickly shakes her head. "Of course not, that would just be cruel."

"Yeah, I won't leave you hanging," Seulgi adds, a benevolent smile sharpening her lips.

You mirror her smile and let out a sigh of relief before sparing all of your attention back over at Yeri. "Well Yeri, it's still really early and kids your age need your long hours of sleep. I bet you're still pretty tired so we should probably take you back to bed—"

"—PIGGYBACK!"

You yelp, falling face forward into the carpet as Yeri lunges at you, clambering onto your back.

Irene and Seulgi instinctively jump back, gasping and staring at you in shock while you groan miserably, Yeri continuing to hold tightly onto you. "Carry me around like a pony, Y/N-ie! NOW!"

You whimper weakly into the carpet, struggling to even lift your head while you try to turn to the side.

You can already tell this is going to be a long day.

"I DON'T WANT!" Yeri shouts and shuns her head to the side in refusal, making it clear that she's not in any way keen on consuming the bowl of cereal Seulgi offers.

You and Irene immediately throw your heads back with exasperated groans and Seulgi defeatedly lowers the bowl, slowly scooting it back towards herself. "But Yeri, this is your favorite cereal! No one here eats it except for you! You literally bought this the other day just for yourself!"

"—NO. NO! I HATE!"

Seulgi purses her lips and Irene narrows her eyes at Yeri, an almost unnoticeable sigh escapes her lips. It's evident that Irene's patience with Yeri is waning, you know for a fact that yours already is(You guys have only reached the two-hour mark of babysitting Yeri, yet she's already burned off more than half of the energy that any of you use daily), but she still does her best to loosen her nerves and quickly replace her look exhaustion with a motherly smile so it's not as noticeable. "Yerim sweetie, you didn't want the eggs I made nor my pancakes. You didn't want me to make you oatmeal, you didn't want yogurt, you didn't want any kind of meat and you don't want this cereal so at this point, I'm not truly sure what you want or if you even want to eat."

The petulant toddler glares at you all, jutting her lower lip in an exaggerated pout as she bangs her fists on the table. "I WANT CUPCAKES!"

"Yeri, we already told you it's not good to eat desserts this early in the day," Seulgi reminds her calmly, but Yeri completely ignores her words entirely and bangs her fists on the hardwood once more, growling as she does.

"I WANT CUPCAKES!"

Yeri's persistent alright. You three have been dealing with this back-and-forth with her for the past half hour but it doesn't seem she's anywhere close to giving any of it up and her defiance hasn't deterred in the slightest; if anything, it's only increased. She's determined to have this go her way, to annoy the hell out of you all until you finally reach a breaking point and are given no choice but to give in to her wants, but then an idea—that you were proud of before you soon found out afterward that toddlers aren't stupid, especially when they're cranky like this—strikes you.

You reach over and take hold of the bowl, scooping a spoonful of the half-soggy cereal and playfully motioning it toward Yeri's mouth. "Hey, how about we pretend this cereal is cupcake flavored! Let's just take a big bite and—"

Yeri slaps the spoon from your hand without warning, the cereal and milk mixture splattering all around on the walls, floor and your face. You thin your lips into a straight line, clenching your fists as you try to maintain your composure and slowly wipe a hand over your face. "Okay then.."

Yeri crosses her arms, holding her frown. "I. Want. Cupcakes."

Seulgi turns to you and Irene. "Guys we've been dealing with this for the past thirty minutes, I don't think she'll accept anything else. Should we just go ahead and buy her some cupcakes?"

Irene sharply contorts her eyebrow in an arch at Seulgi, which is a nicer and more appropriate way of her saying "hell no."

Suddenly, Irene pulls out her phone typing away on it and momentarily, you feel a buzz go off in your lap and lift your phone, looking down at the screen to a new message from you and your members' group chat.

[BJH]

| Okay.. you guys can go ahead and get some

| cupcakes, but just know that we're not going

| to give in to Yeri that easily!

| When you two bring them we'll trick Yeri

| into thinking we're allowing her to eat them

| but instead give her some real breakfast food

| first and tell her to finish it before we allow

| her to actually eat any cupcakes.

| After eating, her little tummy will be so full

| that she won't even want the cupcakes

| anymore!

[You]

| KK >:)

[KSG]

| so we're not actually going to let her eat any

| cupcakes?

[BJH]

| Nope!

[KSG]

| ah..

| okie!

You and Seulgi look up from your phones and flash overly fake smiles Yeri's way. "Okay fine, Yeri. You win. We'll go get you the cupcakes!"

Yeri bubbles gleeful cheers and applauds happily hearing your change of mind as you and Seulgi sit up from the table and venture to your shared room to put on your jackets and slippers as you get ready to go downstairs to the cafe. After Seulgi wraps her hair into a bun, you two walk up to the front door, getting ready to open it, but not before making a quick turn to Yeri. "So Yeri, what flavor do you want—"

You cut yourself off, too appalled to even finish your sentence as every single one of your jaws fall ajar watching Yeri ferociously eat away at the cereal. The same one she just said she hated not even five minutes ago.

Seulgi clears her throat which brings Yeri's attention to her and she mutters, "I.. thought you said you hated that cereal.."

Yeri smiles cheekily. "No, I love it!" She stuffs another spoonful into her mouth.

"So.. you don't want any cupcakes?"

"Nope!"

You three silently exchange exhausted looks with each other, then at the mess in the kitchen and on the table from all of the earlier failed attempts all while Yeri happily and continuously stuffs her mouth, messily slurping up the milk and grain mixture.

"Get up!" you demand, taking Joy by the shoulders and roughly shaking her awake.

Joy whines, placing a pillow over her head to block you out. "Whyy?"

"Because I've been up since five watching over and entertaining Yeri! That little menace created a huge mess in the kitchen, she's been running back and forth all around the living room for the past hour, there are crayons and half-washed-off colored marker markings all over the walls, she almost escaped the dorm and exposed herself like four times already, I'm pretty sure she's caused Joohyun to already grow gray hairs from the amount of stress she's caused, she just never seems to lose energy, we just now got her situated and somewhat calmed down and we're just tired! We need help. I need a break, Sooyoung!

We're all supposed to be in this together anyway! So as long as you're here in this dorm, you're also responsible for Yeri. And if you love your members dearly and don't want to watch us age five more years every two hours then that should be a good enough reason to help us out. Now get up!"

Joy groans into the pillow as you continue to rattle her by the shoulders. You progressively get more aggressive the longer it takes for the stubborn woman to give you any sort of a verbal, coherent response. "Okay! Okay! I will! Just stop shaking me or else I'll find the nearest thing to me that's sold and painful to throw at your face!"

You chuckle at the loose threat and lightly pat Joy's head. "Good. And If you're not out here by the next thirty seconds I won't hesitate to drag you out of this bed by your ankles."

Joy huffs even louder in annoyance once you step out of the room because she knows you're not bluffing(She has a carpet burn scar on her knee from the last time she decided to not cooperate with you). She throws her blanket aside and lazily pushes herself out of bed, slumping her shoulders and stubbornly drags her feet out of the room, not without letting out an exaggerated groan loud enough just for you to hear to emphasize the absolute dread you're causing by making her do this.

She enters the living room, first taking a glance over at Seulgi, Wendy and Yeri who are still in their pajamas lying on the couch and watching TV, and then looks over at you and Irene who are standing near the door with keys in hand.

Joy arches an eyebrow in suspicion. "And where are you two going?"

"Well, Yeri doesn't want what they're serving down in the cafe for lunch and said she wants pizza instead. But most of the pizza spots today are closed since it's Sunday and the only places near us that are open are walk-in and drive-through orders only.."

"Oh."

With no further words needing to be said, you and Irene make your exit and Joy walks over to the couch, situating herself next to the TV-engaged Yeri. As Joy settles into the couch, Yeri turns to Joy's side profile, observing the older woman in awe as she flashes a sinuous grin. "Sooyoungie!"

Joy looks over at Yeri, smiling simply. "Hey, Yeri! Whatcha watching?"

"My Little Pony!"

"Ah, I see.." Joy trails off, nodding her head in slow, deliberate nods as she pans her attention to the TV, pretending to be interested in the kids' show. In the corner of her eye, she spots Seulgi and Wendy, noticing that they aren't even paying attention to Yeri or the show, too busy looking down at their phones. She sucks her teeth at them with a swift roll of her eyes, annoyed that they're leaving her all the responsibility to keep a close eye on watching Yeri, but she continues to watch the show nonetheless.

As Joy watches, she suddenly begins to feel eyes on her; tiny, toddler, Yeri-sized eyes burning into the side of her face. She tries to ignore the intense gaze, but the longer her stare lasts, the more uncomfortable and unsettled Joy becomes.

Joy finally turns her head to Yeri, locking eyes and quirks a brow. "What?.."

Yeri doesn't respond, and the two of them begin to have a silent stare-off until suddenly the younger girl slings her head over, sinking her tiny teeth into Joy's forearm.

Joy lets out a shriek, shaking her arm around in an attempt to throw Yeri off of her, but Yeri doesn’t budge. "AGH! WHAT THE HELL, YERI?! GUYS, GET HER OFF OF MEEE!"

Seulgi and Wendy flip their attention to Joy with horrified gasps, immediately dropping their devices and rushing over to pull Yeri away from her.

Joy continues to panic and shriek with Yeri's teeth remaining sunken into her skin. Wendy pulls Joy back while Seulgi tries to pull Yeri the opposite way.

After seconds of this brutal game of tug-a-war, Seulgi and Wendy finally manage to split the two away from each other.

Joy quickly stands up from the couch, backing far away from everyone while Seulgi holds Yeri down in her lap, or at least is trying her best to as Yeri's feet and arms flail around wildly, aimlessly smacking Seulgi in the face over and over.

"YOU LITTLE.." Joy holds an accusing finger at Yeri, then takes a second to glance down at her arm and gasps dramatically once she sees the bite mark on her skin. "DEMON! You're nothing but a puppy-sized demon!"

Yeri laughs wickedly at Joy's episode of distress, kicking her feet in the air and squirming her tiny body all around like a fish out of water as Seulgi struggles to keep her down.

Joy grits her teeth at Yeri, clenching her jaw. "This isn't funny! You're crazy! You hear me?!"

Wendy quickly steps over to Joy, gently placing a hand on her shoulder as she speaks calmly in her ear, "Yeri's just three, Sooyoung. Well.. technically not really.. but right now she is?.. Whatever— You get what I mean. What I'm trying to say is that she's just acting her age, she's not a demon. Calm down."

"She's literally bit my arm!"

"And three-year-olds normally do that, I'm pretty sure. She doesn't understand that she's hurting you anyway, she's just trying to have fun, even if means biting, kicking people and causing us great amounts of pain. We just need to be patient with her."

Joy squints her eyes. "Yeah, whatever."

"Come on, I'll get her to apologize to you and let her know why her action was wrong."

Wendy places a hand on Joy's lower back to turn her around and guide her towards Yeri, but right as the two turn their heads, a pillow is launched, slamming directly into Joy's face.

Wendy ducks down in a late reaction while Joy stumbles to the floor, the impact making her back collide against the wall behind her. Her eyes blaze with immense fury hearing Yeri's menacing laughs echo, knowing full and well that's where the pillow came from and what her intent was. "Alright, that's it! She's really asking for it now!"

Joy pushes herself to her feet, snatching up the pillow and charges towards Yeri.

Wendy's eyes widen and she quickly chases after Joy, holding her back by her shoulders.

"Let me at her!"

"No! She's just a toddler!" Wendy continues to remind Joy, grunting as she struggles to hold her back.

Yeri continues to sit in the exhausted Seulgi's lap, pointing her finger out and cackling at Joy's frustration and futile attempts to get at her.

"Just!.. Let me!.." Joy growls.

"No!"

Joy narrows her eyes into slits, realizing that Wendy will indeed keep her restrained until her anger comes to a quell. But Joy knows she won't be able to calm down anytime soon unless she's allowed to release her anger in some physical way, that's the only way it'll truly dissipate.

Realizing that Wendy isn't holding back any of her arms, she uses the opportunity to chuck the pillow Yeri's way.

Unfortunately for Joy with the horrible aim of her left arm, the pillow doesn't even graze over the little one, instead, smacking the poor, unknowing Seulgi in the eye as she lifts her head a second too early.

Irene rubs ointment on Joy's injury as Joy sits on the bathroom counter, coldly glaring down at Yeri who's standing alongside Irene. "Now Yerim-ah.. why did you bite Joy?"

Yeri shrugs simply, the blunt reaction making Joy clench her lips and hold the same accusing finger down at her, her arm shaking with fury. "Because she's a demon!"

Yeri sticks her tongue out teasingly at Joy which only stokes the older girl's irritation and urges her to claw her fingers out for the youngling.

Irene pinches the bridge of her nose, internally sighing to herself with a defeated head shake. It was already enough of a task for Irene practically having to mother five oversized children(you all), Joy and Yeri being the worst to keep out of arguments, but now she has to deal with the same thing except with an actual child?

The two continue their endless bickering while Irene places a bandage on Joy's arm as she tries to drown them out, and down in the kitchen, you walk up to the dining table, pulling yourself out a slice from the pizza box. As you savor a cheesy bite, you suddenly hear Wendy call out for everyone with a sense of urgency. "Guys! Guys! Come here! I think I might've figured out why Yeri turned into a toddler!"

"Wait, huh? Seriously?" You hurriedly skip over to the couch where Wendy is and take a seat beside her, taking a look at her computer screen.

Everyone else emerges from their rooms and gathers around with swiftness, except for Yeri who goes to grab herself some pizza.

"Okay guys, so Seulgi might've actually been onto something earlier! On this website, it says that this is a very rare occurrence, happening to only 1 in 1,000,000,000 people, but it states that if a person consumes a hot beverage right before going to bed, aka the hot chocolate Yeri drank, and then happens to have some sort of dream of themselves as their child self, whether the dream is set in their current reality or some timeline in their childhood, then there's a very very tiny chance that person could wake up in real life as their child self and in whatever period their dream was set.

So if they dreamt that they were a kid but were still re-enacting their current daily life then they'll wake up in the same life except as their child-self, and if they dreamt of themselves as a child but were existing at some point in their childhood then they'll wake up as a child and back in their old childhood days. Basically, it's like they're shifting between different realities or dimensions.

It doesn't specify what causes or why the person has those dreams, but I remember we were all looking at old pictures and talking about our childhood days sometime yesterday, so maybe those memories continued to linger in Yeri's mind as she slept and caused her to have a dream about being a child again.

Also, a big factor that allows for any of this to happen is belief. The dream has to be as realistic as possible, to the point that the person who's in the dream doesn't even realize they're dreaming! The longer they believe that they're still a kid and that what's around them is real, it won't take much longer until their dream ultimately becomes their reality."

You and Seulgi stare at Wendy with full interest, Irene's completely lost and Joy.. well, she's just unimpressed.

"That sounds fake and literally makes zero sense," Joy remarks bluntly. "Like what does drinking anything hot before bed have to do with any of what you just said?"

Wendy narrows her eyes at Joy and throws her hands up. "I don't know, man, maybe it does some kind of stimulating to the mind? If we're being real, absolutely nothing about this day makes sense, but this is the only website that had an answer that made enough sense for our situation! I'm just telling you all what the site says, okay? In not a genius!"

Joy huffs and folds her arms. "Well, I think this is all just nonsense."

Irene can already smell another argument brewing between the two, and not wanting to hear any annoying bickering she quickly buts in to prevent it. "—Well, how about we ask Yeri what she dreamt last night so we can see if it's anywhere accurate to what Wendy's telling us."

Wendy shakes her head. "Oh yeah I forgot to mention, the person isn't going to remember anything about the dream. Like at all."

You all squint and tilt your heads, more confused than ever now. Wendy almost had you had you for a second, and then she completely lost you.

"So if the person who turned into the child and had the dream doesn't remember the dream they had.. then how would the person who wrote this website even know anything about it?! Like where is any of this information coming from?!"

"Yeah, none of this is adding up."

"I'm so confused.."

Wendy throws her hands up again, her laptop slightly sliding down her thighs. "Guys, I already told you I'm not a genius! This information is just as new to me as it is to you! I went through every possible website I could and this was the only one that seemed reliable enough! Out of all the things I've read, just trust me on this when I say I'm like 90% sure this is our likely answer."

You all still aren't that much more convinced, but at this point, you don't have anything to lose, well, you definitely do, but you all just need to try something.

Joy sucks her teeth. "Okay, whatever you say. So what's the solution to turning Yeri back?"

Wendy scrolls down to the last page of the website. "She needs to drink an entire glass of ice water with a tablespoon of cinnamon in it, bathe in lukewarm water with a mixture of sunflower petals and raw honey for exactly 23 minutes, not go to sleep any later than an hour after taking the bath and when she does sleep she needs to lay upright."

"Yeri! Stop running around and being so loud! There are people below and next door to us!" you bellow as Yeri's tiny legs sprint from room to room. Your voice is practically gone with this being about the millionth you've had to repeat these words in just the last hour, and of course, to none of your surprise, Yeri does the complete opposite of your demands, only becoming noisier and more heavy-footed. You're honestly not sure why you even bother anymore.

You try capturing the little munchkin as she bolts past you out of your bedroom, but your futile attempt only leads to you wrapping your arms around nothingness and falling to your knees. Seulgi also attempts to grab Yeri but her efforts are to no avail; the klutzy bear ends up diving head-first into the floor, the hyperactive toddler slipping out of her reach right when she almost had her.

Luckily, Irene ends up catching Yeri by surprise, snatching her up and sitting her on her hip. "You really are a handful.." Irene sighs.

"Why did Yeri never tell us about how much of an actual menace she was as a child?.." Seulgi grumbles, pushing herself up from the floor, moaning and groaning with every ache in her body as she stands. You drag your feet over to the couch, throwing yourself down into the cushions.

"I want a doll!" Yeri randomly blurts out.

Irene playfully pinches the little one's cheek, a passive-aggressive smile curving her lips. "Well, do you think you really deserve for us to buy you a toy after the way you've been acting today?"

"Yes!"

Irene narrows her eyes. "Seriously, Yeri?"

Yeri nods, shouting another confident, "Yes." Irene shakes her head. "No, Yeri. We're not buying you a doll."

Yeri's smile is immediately wiped with a frown. "I want a doll! I want a doll! I want a doll!"

You and Seulgi groan in unison, covering your ears as Yeri starts yet another one of her many ear-bleeding tantrums.

"Yeri, shh! I said no!"

"Listen to your oldest," Wendy says in passing as she exits the bathroom, bopping Yeri's nose teasingly, which Wendy quickly finds out to never make the mistake of again as the angry toddler slaps her hand.

Wendy glares at Yeri, taking small steps back with caution and soothes the stinging sensation from her hand. "Brat."

While Yeri continues to scream and whine about, a series of knocks is soon heard from the front door. Everyone's hearts drop in an instant and you all completely come to a paralyze, shooting each other pointed looks in the silence.

"Who's that?!"

"I don't know!"

"What if someone filed a noise complaint on us and sent staff up here!"

You frantically swing your head around, taking brief glances around the dorm before landing your eyes on Irene. "Uhh, Hyunie, you need to go lock yourself and Yeri in the bathroom to keep yourselves hidden. You know, just in case." Irene nods to your order without any question or protest and rushes her and Yeri inside the bathroom, making sure not to forget to lock the door. Yeri attempts to voice out a word of frustration, but Irene quickly slaps a hand over her mouth to shut her up.

Yeri fights against Irene's silencing and pulls down on her hand. She manages to pull her hand down just enough for her lips to be visible. "I WANT A DO—"

Irene muffles Yeri's voice again in swiftness, quickly clutching her hand over her mouth. "Shh! We'll get you a doll later, okay?!" Irene whispers harshly, and Yeri nods, but in an act of pettiness, Yeri darts her tongue out, licking the crevasses of Irene's palm. Irene yelps, reflexing her hand back in instinct and immediately wipes her hand on her shirt in repulsion.

The rest of you flatten out your clothes, combing your fingers through your hair and throw the pillows back onto the couch in a rushed attempt to make yourselves and the place look somewhat presentable. You and Seulgi stand next to each other while Wendy anxiously approaches the door. She carefully flicks the top lock, then the bottom lock, and slowly, she turns the knob, her heart racing faster and faster with each passing second.

She pulls the door back slowly and hesitantly peaks her head between the tiny opening, but her nerves cool down almost instantly once her eyes lay on the standing figure. "Sooyoung?!"

"Uh, yes?" Joy shoots Wendy a questioning look, a shopping bag held in her hand.

Oh yeah. You guys forgot you sent Joy out to go buy the ingredients for Yeri's remedy.

Joy steps past Wendy and enters the dorm, growing even more confused now and wondering as to why you all look so spooked seeing her, looking at her as if she'd grown two heads. "Hello?"

"Sorry, we just thought you were someone else." You take the grocery bag from Joy and walk up to the bathroom door, "Never mind guys, false alarm! You can come back out now!"

As you walk away over to the kitchen counter and empty out the bag, out from the bathroom comes a smiley Yeri and a grimacing Irene who for some reason won't stop wiping her hand on her shirt in disgust.

"I want my dolly now! Please! Please! Pleaseee!" Yeri begs, jumping up and down and looking up at you all with big, pleading eyes, protruding her bottom lip.

Everyone's eyes immediately land on Irene, which catches her completely off guard and she looks at you all with a sharp upturn of her eyebrow. "Um, don't look at me. I already spent my hard-earned money on that pizza earlier today."

Joy scoffs, folding her arms. "Well, I just spent my hard-earned money buying those stupid ingredients for Yeri."

Oh, so they want to play this game now? "Oh, well I paid for the gas that allowed Joohyun to even drive to the pizza place!" you quickly add.

"And—And— I bought Yeri those papers and colors to draw with earlier, you know!"

All eyes now land on Wendy, awaiting for what excuse she'll try to make.

Wendy side-eyes you all, sucking her teeth as she silently curses you all out in her mind. "Fine, I'll buy it."

Yeri runs up to Wendy, embracing her tiny arms tightly around her calves. "Thank you, Seungwanie!"

The small, yet adorable gesture manages to break Wendy's scowl and she looks down at her youngest member, smiling tenderly with her lips and eyes. "Aww.. of course, Yeri! It's noth— AGH!"

Wendy inhales sharply, biting the inside of her cheek and balling her fists to her sides to refrain from punching Yeri as she feels a pair of teeth chomping at her thigh.

Irene quickly runs up to the two, extracting that little demon leech from Wendy and holds her in close. "God.. Yeri, you really gotta stop doing that."

It's nighttime now and Yeri's all snuggled up in Irene's bed, watching videos on Wendy's computer while she uses her miniature toy brush to brush through the hair of her newly bought doll.

You've all already eaten dinner, which was once again pizza because Yeri didn't even attempt to give the beef soup that the cafe was serving downstairs a chance. It was 8 pm and you all were too exhausted and burned out just at the mere thought of putting up another fight with that menace when you knew it would lead to nowhere.

Everyone's taken their showers and Irene took Yeri her special bath, which was a lot easier to get through than she had expected, if she doesn't include the part where Yeri wouldn't stop splashing her in the face with water every few seconds. But other than that, everything went smoothly.

Yeri's also drunk her cup of cinnamon water so all that's left now is for her to sleep and await for what the results will show in the morning.

Seulgi was the first victim of sleep, the poor girl didn't even make it to her bed—one minute you saw her standing near the couch, next thing you knew, she was face-down into the pillows passed clean out. Next was Joy who not too long after Seulgi went to bed once deciding to call it a night for herself. Wendy was going to stay up with you to watch over Yeri as Irene left to take her shower, but what went from seeing Wendy on the brink of sleep, nodding off every other minute every time you stole a glance her way eventually led to hearing loud snores and spotting a sleeping Wendy laying beside Yeri, who was too engrossed with whatever was playing on the computer to notice her older member.

Suffice to say that Yeri was successful in completely wearing everyone out today.

"Yeri! Aren't you excited to become an adult again?" you ask enthusiastically from the other side of the room as you sit crisscross in your bed. Yeri lifts her gaze from the screen and looks at you silently, tilting her head with a clear look of confusion.

Oh yeah, Yeri's still lost about the whole, 'She was once an adult but in some freaky way she transformed into a toddler but she didn't really just transform since she's technically in another dimension so now you all have to do a remedy to change her back' thing.

Though she's(obviously)way younger now, she's shown to not be as naive nor gullible, because she's so damn stubborn, so she doesn't believe any of this and just thinks you've all gone crazy, which you're honesty not too upset with since her thinking that you're all crazy and just accepting these weird remedies is way better than if she were to be freaking out and putting up a fight, making it 100x harder for you all.

"N-Nevermind," you mutter, awkwardly scratching your neck. Yeri shrugs and resumes back to watching her video.

Irene soon arrives back from her shower, standing between the bedroom entrance and glancing at the two of you with a soft smile. "Alright, Yerim-ah. Time for bed!"

Yeri shoots a nasty glare Irene's way, then throws her head back with a whine. "I don't wanna!"

Your eyes widen and you quickly clutch your ears, tugging the covers up to pull yourself under. "Oh god, please no. Not another tantrum."

Irene shakes her head and walks up to Yeri, picking her up from the bed as she continues to whine and squirm around. "Don't worry, Y/N. I know how to get her to sleep quickly."

She better. You slightly peak from under the blanket and watch as Irene carries Yeri out of the room, Yeri continuing her relentless fit.

—

"Wow, that was so quick?! You put her to sleep in like what, five minutes? How the hell you do that?"

"I've got my ways," Irene smirks, looking down at the sleeping Yeri, of course, not forgetting to have her lying upright.

As you two continue to silently watch Yeri, you can feel yourself suddenly grow worrisome as thoughts of the remedy not working on Yeri start to creep up. If none of this ends up working and Yeri's not back to her old self by morning then this situation is going to go from 100x to 1000000x real quick, especially since your normal schedule starts again early at the crack of dawn.

You turn your head to Irene, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue anxiously, "Do you think this is going to work?"

Irene looks at you, a lopsided smile tracing her lips and a hopeful gleam in her eyes as she lets out a quiet yawn. "I really hope so."

You smile shortly and pin your focus back on the slumbering Yeri. But then your eyebrows furrow and you quickly make a double take back at Irene, looking down at her right hand which holds an unopened bottle of wine and the other with a wine glass.

Irene catches your questioning stare from the corner of her vision but doesn't turn her head to look at you entirely. "Don't look at me like that, this girl stressed me the hell out today. I deserve this, don't you think?"

You both chuckle lightly as you playfully shove her shoulder, and after a little while longer watching over Yeri, positive that she's deep in her sleep, you two exit the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind you and retire back to your own bedroom.

Well, you carry the slumbering Seulgi from the couch first before making it to the bedroom and Irene stumbles into the kitchen to pour herself a glass and drink the stress away.

You carefully tuck Seulgi into bed and then yourself after flickering off the lights. You snuggle your head deep into your pillows and lay on your hands, closing your eyes with a sigh. "This better work."

The early morning sun rays peak through the narrow cracks of your curtains, the light shining brightly and warmly as it cascades over your face, prying you from your sleep.

You stretch out your arms, yawning, and look over at your nightstand clock. 6:39 am. Welp, looks like you've completely overslept since you were supposed to be up and getting ready over thirty minutes ago for the 7 am group workout.

You don't decide to waste any time longer and hop out of bed, beginning to rummage through your drawers, just blindly picking out a random pair of workout clothes to wear since you kinda don't have the time to be picky right now.

You hurriedly slip them on while hopping on one foot as you also make your way into the bathroom. You complete all of your necessities—brushing your teeth, skimming through your skincare and fixing your hair—and after getting through with that, you exit the bathroom and make your way into the kitchen where everyone else already lies. They all munch on the breakfast Irene had cooked as they exchange quiet conversation.

Everyone greets you with quiet "Hey"s and "Good morning"s once they spot you approaching and you give them a small wave.

Not wanting anything too heavy on your stomach, you pull out a yogurt cup from the fridge and take a seat at the dining table. As you slurp on your yogurt, you notice your eyes keep on fixating on the member next to you. You try paying no mind to it, but as your eyes continue to adjust to the figure, they suddenly widen and you pause your eating once you realize why you can't stop peeking in their direction.

It's Yeri.

In her adult form.

You gasp dramatically, coming to a full turn in her direction and unintentionally grabbing the attention of your other members. "Yeri?!"

Startled, Yeri stops motioning the fork to her mouth and turns to you, arching a brow in confusion. "Yes?"

You quickly lean over and engulf her in a tight embrace. "Oh my gosh, Yeri!"

Yeri, still barely woken up, confusedly wraps her arms around you too, slowly patting your back and looks up at the rest of your members unsurely. They shoot her looks back, silently letting her know they're equally as confused by your actions.

You finally lean back from the hug, looking around at everyone with a bright smile. "Guys, it worked! Yeri's gone back to normal!"

Everyone's confusion only seems to deepen the more you talk. "What are you talking about?" Joy asks with furrowed eyebrows.

Your excitement's quickly killed off as your members now bring the collective confusion over to you."Yesterday.. when Yeri had turned into a toddler, we all had to keep her here and watch over her for the entire day and then we had to do some kind of spell to change her back to her adult self again?"

Everyone turns to each other, concern now laced in their eyes more than anything else. Irene walks up to you, placing her hand on your forehead. "Um.. are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, are you, Y/N? Because you're making no sense right now," Wendy says.

You're probably more confused than your members now.. because how could they not remember any of what you just said? Why are they looking at you as if you're crazy? "Guys, why are you so confused? We literally—"

You catch yourself from saying anything more before facepalming yourself. "Don't.. tell me that was all just a stupid dream.." you mutter, more so to yourself.

A dream?.. A dream! Of course, it had to have been a dream! It's the only logical explanation to this, considering how oddly calm you all were waking up to a toddler in the middle of your living room when, realistically, you know damn well the dorm would've erupted into literal chaos and panic if Yeri was ever missing and instead of being able to find her all you could find was a random toddler who for some reason looks identical like her. And how everyone immediately drew to the conclusion and just accepted that Yeri had turned into said toddler without any further questions or speculation. Or when you all found the supposed reasoning as to why she even turned into the toddler in the first place making absolutely no sense and the remedy for it being completely random.

Even though the dream was oddly long and felt a little too real, it still should've all been so obvious to you with how stupidly unrealistic the plot was from the start! But.. when a person's in a dream you suppose no one usually ever realizes they're in one until they wake up, so you can't really blame yourself too much on being fooled by your own mind.

"Was what a dream?" Seulgi asks, tilting her head in curiosity.

You look at her with a sheepish smile, placing your fingers on your temples as you quickly shake your head. "N-Nothing! Forget it! Forget I even said anything! Let's just hurry up and finish eating so we can go downstairs."

Everyone exchanges confused and concerned looks once more, but in an unspoken agreement, they decide to not question you any further on this and continue back to finishing their breakfast, resuming back to where they left off in conversations. You eat in silence, deliberately avoiding eye contact with anyone, even when you can still feel Yeri's curious gaze on you.

After about ten minutes, everyone's done eating and is packing up their gym bags. You don't bother to exit as a group, you all never usually do anyway, so Wendy and Seulgi are the first ones to leave. Irene and Joy don't take long to tag after them which leaves you and Yeri as the last ones to leave.

Yeri kneels in front of the front door tying her shoes and you lean against the dining table as you watch her, waiting for her to finish so you two can leave together. She soon stands up and gets ready to open the door to leave, but in an act of impulse, you abruptly call her to a halt, "Hey, Yeri!"

She stops motioning her hand to the doorknob and turns her head to you. "Yeah?"

"I know this is going to sound random, but I'm just saying.. if you're ever given the chance to, please, for the sanity of me and the members, do not ever, and I mean ever turn yourself into a toddler."

Yeri quirks her head to the side, completely confused about where you'd even get an idea like that from but she chuckles, nodding to your suggestion, "Oh, uh.. okay? I promise I won't?"

You chuckle awkwardly with her and push yourself up from the table, walking over to her as she begins to open the door again. In your footing, you end up stepping on something small, not enough to make you trip, but it does cause you slight discomfort and you gasp from its unexpectedness.

Yeri quickly turns to you, halfway stepping out the door. "Y/N? You alright?"

You lift your foot from the tiny object and take a step back from it to observe, holding a thumbs up in reassurance. "Yeah, I'm good. I just stepped on a—"

You choke on your words, struggling to suppress a gasp and quickly bend down, taking a closer look at the object. A sense of familiarity washes over you as you observe it, and the longer you stare the quicker you realize why it's so familiar to you. You pick it up and hold it closer to your eyes, trying to make sure this is what you think it is, and the more you take in the tiny details, the more you're certain that this is the exact toy brush that came with the doll Wendy had bought for Yeri yesterday.

The toy brush from the doll Wendy bought for the toddler Yeri in your dream. And it's right here, in the middle of the living room.

You and your members are all adults, you don't have any toys and none of you have brought any kids over who could've left their toys like this behind that could explain why this is here.

So wait.. If this isn't yours, your members' or a kid's you know, then does this mean..

"Y/N?" Yeri calls out again, except this time she's out in the hallway already leaving you behind. "Come on, we seriously have to get going!"

You silently stare at the brush a few seconds longer before quickly stuffing the trinket into your pocket and standing back up, jogging after Yeri. You can worry about this later.

"My bad! Coming!"

And it was ALL a dream.. *WOOSH* *BOOM* *SPARKS* *FIREWORKS* *CRACKLES* or was it? Ngl I really just pulled that the explanation and cure for Yeri right out of my ass idk what the hell I was writing, but anyways HAPPY TENTH ANNIVERSARY TO MY CAKE GIRLS !!! I LOVE THEM SO SO MUCH AHHH!!!

— Seulgiwifee ໒꒰ྀི♡˵ᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈ ꒱ྀི১

[ssivinee]

📂 RED VELVET

𝖨𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖾

📁 𝙾𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚅𝚒𝚜𝚞𝚊𝚕 ↳ 𝙸𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚊! 96’ 𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚛! 𝙵 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝖲𝖾𝗎𝗅𝗀𝗂

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 …

𝖶𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗒

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 …

𝖩𝗈𝗒

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 …

𝖸𝖾𝗋𝗂

𝚃𝚘 𝙱𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚞𝚎𝚍 …

Error - More to be released soon…

[harrywavycurly]

I just really want more Hook Eddie talking to Wendy Reader😩😩

Hiiii babes!! Well you’re in luck because I am in JUST the right state of mind to give you a little conversation between Hook!Eddie and Wendy!Reader💖

“So you tell stories?” “No I retell historical events.” “Historical events? Please enlighten me on when exactly in history did a princess get put to sleep by a poisonous apple?” “You don’t know the story of Snow White? Figures…” “does that disappoint you?” “Honestly you in general kinda disappoint me…I was just expecting…more?” “More? Like what? A bigger…hat?” “Your reputation just had me thinking you’d be…scarier?” “My reputation? Tell me what have you heard about me?” “That you’re a vicious pirate who absolutely hates children and wants to kill Peter Pan but…you never can.” “Ah well part of that is correct…I do hate children.” “You don’t want to kill Peter Pan?” “Why would I want to kill my main source of entertainment? Unless…you’re volunteering to keep me entertained?” “Never.” “So it’ll upset you to know that you’ve already been quite entertaining so far?” “Why did you go through all the trouble to find me?” “Because you’re all the island was talking about and I am a pirate so I do get rather jealous when the attention isn’t on me.” “Jealousy? That’s why you kidnapped me?” “Kidnapped you? Oh darling we both know that’s not how it happened.” “Yes…it is.” “So you didn’t know it was me who sent you the letter telling you to meet by the docks at sundown?” “Why would I have known it was you?” “Because…we both know Peter is passed out in his little tree house well before sundown…” “that…doesn’t mean anything?” “It means you knew it wasn’t Peter who wanted to meet you…and yet…you still went?” “I’m curious…I can’t help it.” “Well you know what they say about curiosity and the cat…” “Do you plan to kill me then?” “No…that would be a waste of bullets.”

[asahicore]

cold hands - psh (m)

this work contains smut - minors please do not interact

pairing. sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis. plot plot plot what is a plot when you can just have vibes and a vague narrative direction... if you MUST know you go to your brother's hockey team back-to-uni party accidentally matching one of the members with your cowgirl barbie costume. hopelessly romantic sunghoon sees this as a sign that the two of you are meant to be together, but you're impossible to read and soon the two of you settle on an ambiguous secret friends with benefits relationship. unfortunately, conflict ensues.

genre. strangers to friends to fwb to lovers..?? its not an asahicore fic if it doesnt have fluff angst AND smut, brothers best friend, jock x nerd type vibe, slight miscommunication put your pitchforks away and hear me out pls it works out i promise, reader has ISSUES 💜 loser loverboy sunghoon, its mostly in his pov, i know nothing about ice hockey

word count. 39.5k 😂

a/n. inspired by @moonlighthoon's request for the 1k trope event! sorry it took ages to write but i hope you like it and that i met ur expectations!!!! hope everyone else enjoys it too, this is the longest fic ive ever written and im quite proud of it, pls pls pls let me know what u thought <333 shoutout to @zreamy .. good luck with your studies, thank u for beta reading and making this fic exponentially better as u always do ⭐️ credit to @/plutism for the dividers :)

Some men never think of it. You did. You’d come along And say you’d nearly brought me flowers But something had gone wrong.

The shop was closed. Or you had doubts - The sort that minds like ours Dream up incessantly. You thought I might not want your flowers.

It made me smile and hug you then. Now I can only smile. But, look, the flowers you nearly brought Have lasted all this while. - Wendy Cope, Flowers

When Sunghoon falls in love, it usually goes as quickly as it came.

Just to name a few:

There had been Ahn Yujin, whose family had moved next to his when he was twelve, and whose dog got on perfectly with his. His crush on the cute girl next door grew with every walk the four of them took but disappeared the second she ditched him to walk home from school with Na Jaemin. 

A few years later, there had been Bae Sumin, who sat in front of him and always had her hair up in a ponytail he found exceedingly pretty. An appointment at the hairdresser was enough for him to stop liking her, as if his interest in her had been laying in the ten centimeters of hair she had cut off. 

In his junior year of high school, there had been Kim Yerim, a college student that tutored him in Math and English. She was three years older, but that didn’t deter him—what did was the fact that she was dating a college graduate. She showed him a picture once, and the guy had biceps probably twice the size of Sunghoon’s. He thought it was safer to give up on her than to fight such a bulky guy five years his senior. 

The first time it stuck was during his first year of college. She was his coach’s daughter and he liked the way she would smile at him when she came to watch their practice. Sunghoon didn’t like to think about her, mainly because even after she broke his heart, for a while there, he continued to love her. 

So, when he first spots you from across the room at the Welcome Back costume party thrown by his hockey team, unintentionally the Cowboy Barbie to his Cowboy Ken, he tries not to read too much into it. Barbie was a hit this summer, it’s an easy and topical costume, of course there’s a pretty girl wearing the same bright pink cowboy hat he is. It doesn’t mean she’s the love of his life.

Right?

He knows you from the pictures that littered the walls of Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon’s apartment last year, from Instagram posts, both yours and your friends’, from your video calls with Jake, who dragged him into the camera’s view. Say hi to my sister, he’d insist, like Sunghoon was a child who didn’t want to greet his great-great-aunt. He’d dip in to say hi as requested, ask how you were, and mumble me too like a fool when you said you heard so much about him and were excited to meet him in real life. 

These are the things Sunghoon knows about you: Jake’s older sister by a year, currently on a year abroad in Rome, studies something fancy like Classics, which he hadn’t known people still did in the twenty-first century, deep attachment to Stardew Valley in first year, rarely seen with the same man twice, very pretty. Absurdly so. He’s also weirdly obsessed over the texts you’ve sent to the group chat he was added to at the beginning of last year—scarce, short, elusive. Never more than two sentences, and always long after the conversation was over. But sometimes you’d send photos and videos out of nowhere, of your adventures or of funny things you saw online, and he always hearted them. He even replied to it sometimes (brave hahas or that’s so cool!s), in hopes that it would make you like him, would make you think, he gets me. 

The two of you have never formally yet because you left for Italy the year he started university. He’s been nervous about meeting you since the first time the group told him about you. 

Now that he is about to, he can hear his heart thumping so loudly in his ears, it drowns out the bass of the music. He’s glad he gets to see you before having to talk to you—he’s not sure he could take in your presence and form coherent words at the same time. He watches you laugh with your friends, the smile lines that form like dimples around your mouth, the strands of hair you keep tucking behind your ear. Then someone joins your group—except it’s not just someone, it’s Minjeong, her denim jacket so often worn he recognises her from the back, and he realizes the people you’re with have been Chaewon and Yunjin this whole time. The three of them have been banging on about you all year, even more so due to the fact that their replacement flatmate was dreadful, a Spanish girl who only hung out with other Spanish exchange students and looked the girls up and down when they tried to invite her out somewhere.

You turn towards Minjeong, and before he knows it, he’s in your line of sight, and your eyes meet. Confusion, then a flash of recognition goes through your eyes. He had been resting his elbow on a countertop, cider bottle in hand and watching you, he realizes, not unlike a creep, but now he stands up straight and looks around him as if you hadn’t just caught him staring. Before he can find a way out, Jake appears by his side and throws an arm around his shoulders, guiding him into the throng of party-goers and, coincidentally, closer to you.

“Dude, you’ll never guess what.”

“What?” Sunghoon says, tone coming out more irritated than he means it to. He’s just had to give up on making a good first impression on you, and he doesn’t even have the time to think of a way to redeem himself. When he dares to look back at you, your eyes are already on him, a small smile on your lips. You probably hate him already.

“My sister is dressed just like you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you guys came together or something. Hey, guys!” Jake calls out, and all of a sudden, it’s not just your eyes on him, it’s everyone’s. Well, to be fair, they’re also looking at Jake. But you’re only looking at Sunghoon, and he can’t look away from you either, can’t even manage the politeness to hug everyone in greeting like Jake is doing now. He watches as your eyes rake over his figure, taking him in, assessing him, and he suddenly feels awkward in his costume that matches yours, like he’s somehow overstepped a boundary, like you might think he’s asked around about your costume, found out you were going as Barbie and decided to match you so you’d think the two of you were meant together, like he had two minutes ago, and come to the fairly reasonable decision that he was the weirdest man on Earth. But then you meet his eyes, smile a kind, genuine smile, and his whole body relaxes. 

“Hey, Hoon!” Chaewon calls, arms open wide. He remembers himself and hugs everyone, even you, and he has to pretend like this is completely fine and normal, like his hands aren’t practically shaking as his arms circle your shoulders in a two-second embrace. 

You squeeze one of his shoulders, and keeping his countenance is a Herculean task. He feels like those people centuries ago who passed out at the sight of a lady’s ankle. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” you say, peering at him over the rim of your red cup. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Sunghoon feels the blush growing on his face; he wasn’t expecting so much of your attention so quickly. He takes a swig of his lukewarm cider, hoping if he seems drunk, it might explain his redness. “Good things, I hope,” he says, aware of the unoriginality but unable to come up with anything better.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ve made you out to be a saint.” You’ve not once broken eye contact or stopped smiling—it should intimidate him, but instead, it makes Sunghoon feel like you’ve known each other for ages and that this isn’t your first conversation at all. He finds himself able to relax into a smile, and manages to meet your eyes for more than three seconds at a time.

“You don’t believe them?”

You pause, gaze zeroing in on him even more intensely than previously, smile turning smirk-like. Sunghoon’s heart skips a beat. Okay, maybe he’s not that relaxed. “I don’t know you well enough to make up my mind yet. But we’ll be seeing plenty of each other from now on, won’t we?”

This is exactly what Sunghoon has been warned about. You at parties, the way you look at guys, the way you talk to them. Sunghoon has been the audience of more than one recreation of such a scene, Yunjin pretending to be you, Chaewon pretending to be your “victim,” as the others liked to call them. Because once you had set your eyes on a man, he had little chance of making it out. Jay prides himself as being the only survivor, although he has to admit it’s only because Jake interrupted your conversation, telling him, “I see you’ve met my sister.” And Jay was not the kind of person that got off with their friends’ siblings, especially since his and Jake’s friendship was only a week long at that point, and he didn’t want to ruin the atmosphere in their dorm for the rest of the year just because his dick had gotten the best of him. His words. Whenever they were all hanging out together and they called you, one of the girls would inevitably ask if you had “turned any Italian boys into men” or if you had been “terrorizing the good men of Rome recently.” You would either roll your eyes or say this was not a conversation to be had in front of your brother.

Sunghoon had been sure they were exaggerating—it takes two to tango, as they say, and it wasn’t like you ensnared innocent men into your trap. They had to be willing, to want something from you just as much as you wanted something from them. He’d also gotten them to admit it wasn’t that frequent, that you weren’t looking for a new prey every party, just once in a while when you found someone you liked. (He’d been very quiet when Jay asked why he was trying so hard to defend you.)

But now that he is on the receiving end of your alluring smiles, he starts to understand how one could fall for you without meaning to. He knows he can’t — Jake probably wouldn’t take to it kindly, and he didn’t want to spoil the dynamic of his best group of friends at uni — but he has a feeling that ten minutes of talking to you would be enough to shake his resolve.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure we will. Jake said you studied a lot, but I’m sure we’ll get to hang out. All of us, I mean,” he quickly adds, lest you think he’s already asking you to hang out one-on-one. Sunghoon would not be that forward.

“Of course. I have to see if you did a good enough job replacing me for a year.” Sunghoon’s eyes widen, and before he can blurt out something weirdly laudatory like “I could never replace you, I would never even try, I don’t know you but you’re clearly far superior to me in every aspect and I could never even claim to fill your spot,” you giggle and tell him it’s just a joke. “If anything, I’m happy Jake has managed to make a new friend that he didn’t meet through me, that loser,” you say, and together, you laugh at Jake’s loserness, a topic that will never fail to amuse Sunghoon, although he’s not faring much better in that department. 

“Like, look at him right now,” you say, jerking your head in Jake’s general direction, somewhere behind Sunghoon’s shoulder—and that’s when he realizes that it’s just the two of you standing there, the others gone without him even noticing. Sunghoon turns around, finding the girls, Jay, and a bunch of other people he vaguely recognizes huddled around Jake. They all start chanting his name as he gulps down a giant red cup of beer, then raises the empty cup over his head in victory and crumples it, beaming at the people around him. 

“What is he doing?” Sunghoon asks, laughing at his friend.

“Jay called him over for a beer-off,” you explain. After a beat, you ask, “You didn’t notice?”

The implications are clear in your tone and in your eyes. In the smile playing on your lips, just shy of being a smirk. You didn’t notice because of me, is what you’re really telling Sunghoon—at least, that’s the impression he’s getting. And you’d be right. He was too busy talking to you and trying his best not to make a fool of himself to notice his friends leaving, too engrossed with you to register the sudden disappearance of four people. Across the room, where people have shifted their attention to yet another hockey player downing a sizable amount of beer, he catches Chaewon’s eyes, and she winks at him. Of course—leave it to Chaewon, to whom Sunghoon once made the mistake of drunkenly rambling about how pretty you looked in your Instagram posts last year, to give you and Sunghoon some time alone, “to get to know each other properly,” she would probably say. Although he isn’t sure that small talk over 2000s music counts as getting to know someone. According to the others, she and Yunjin started dating a month into their second year, so Chaewon has proclaimed herself as the goddess of dating and is now always trying to set people up. Sunghoon thinks she’s just living vicariously through her friends now that she has a Mrs. at home.

Because the filter usually at work between the part of Sunghoon’s brain where sentences are formed and his mouth is apparently on leave today, he says, “I do have a pretty distracting sight in front of me.” He’s immediately both mortified and impressed by this sudden bout of confidence, but then you look down and giggle, actually giggle, the sweetest sound he’s ever heard, and only pride remains. 

“So, Ken?” you ask, a cute attempt to change the subject, taking the fabric of the pink bandana around his neck between your fingers. Sunghoon wonders if you’re going to yank him down to your level, and he thinks he wouldn’t have much of a problem with that. 

He realizes that even though you should technically know each other’s names, you haven’t actually exchanged them, so in a confused but correcting tone, he says, “Um, Sunghoon.” He only belatedly realizes that you hadn’t gotten his name wrong, you were just making a comment on his costume, which he had completely forgotten he was wearing in the first place. Just as he’s about to backtrack and salvage what he can of the situation, you burst into laughter, hand leaving his bandana to cover your mouth as he hides his face behind his own hands, laughing along with you despite himself. 

“I know your name is Sunghoon!” you exclaim. The gratification of hearing you say his name takes away some of his embarrassment. “I’m Y/N, by the way. Not Barbie.”

Sunghoon nods. “Good to know.”

The laughter gradually dies down, but your smile stays the same; wide, bright, a smile that exposes your teeth and turns your eyes into crescents. Sunghoon can’t look away. He’s awash with nerves, your gaze simultaneously planting his feet to the ground like they’re full of lead and making him light-headed. His heart is beating so fast, he can barely feel it anymore. 

The two of you stand there, looking and smiling at each other, like in a cliché movie scene where everyone else at the party seems to fade into the background. He has no idea how much time has passed when you break the silence. “It really is nice to finally meet you,” you say, repeating your statement from earlier, as though you mean it more now. 

“It is,” Sunghoon simply replies, because he doesn’t know how else to express the relief of seeing you in the flesh after hearing about you and looking at a digital version of you for a year. The relief, but also the anticipation of what is to come now that he knows he likes you even more now that he’s actually seen you. And improbable as it sounds, you might even feel the same.

Sunghoon can already feel it. The beginning of something.

You nod towards his now empty cup. “Want a refill?”

Together, you make your way through the crowd of increasingly drunk students until you reach the kitchen, where the countertops overflow with open bottles of liquor of all sorts and paper plates with half-eaten pizza slices on them. He watches your every move as you find a cold bottle of beer in the fridge, a bottle of strawberry syrup in a random cupboard that you had to know was there, and a half-empty discarded bottle of lemonade on the counter. You ask him to tell you about last year, everything you missed out on, and so he does. He knows you’ve probably heard it all from the others before, but you still laugh and gasp like it’s the first time you’re hearing about any of it, all the hockey games they won, Jay getting food poisoning from the sketchy pizzeria he kept eating at, Yunjin almost getting into a fistfight with a man twice her size who was flirting with Chaewon. 

You assemble two drinks and hand him one of them. When he takes a sip, his eyes widen at the refreshing and sweet taste. “Good, right?” you say. “I discovered it on a trip to France last summer.”

“Thank God for France. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever enjoyed drinking beer,” he says.

“That’s probably because you can’t taste the beer at all.”

Sunghoon smiles. “Probably, yeah.”

You turn around, lower back against the counter, and take in the current kitchen population. “We really weren’t very original with our costumes tonight.” Sunghoon, who had not taken his eyes off of you this entire time, follows your gaze. He counts five partygoers dressed in some version of Barbie or Ken, and that’s just the kitchen. He doesn’t blame them—the fact that so many people came dressed in costumes at all impresses him, especially for a party on the 10th of September and not the 31st of October. The social committee of the hockey team just seems to really love themed and dress-up parties.

He chuckles, then takes a sip of his drink. It’s really nice. “Yeah, but we look the best.”

Your head whips towards him, eyes glinting with something that makes Sunghoon smile, even though he doesn’t know what you’re thinking. “Should we enter the couple’s costume contest?” you ask.

At the mention of couple, his eyes widen, his brain tricking him into thinking you’ve asked him out for a second. But when what you actually meant dawns on him, the first thing to come out of his mouth is, “There’s a couple’s costume contest?!”

“Mh-hm. The sign-up sheet should be around here.” 

For what feels like the millionth time since he’s started talking to you, his face heats up. “Are non-couples allowed to enter?”

“We’re Barbie and Ken. I’d say that’s enough of a couple, don’t you think?” 

Right. Because he had been thinking of Sunghoon and Y/N, while you obviously meant Barbie and Ken. In the contest, it doesn’t actually matter whether the contestants are dating in real life—it matters that their costumes match. Sunghoon knows that. He just needed a second.

He grins, deep dimples punctuating his cheeks. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Armed with your drinks, you walk around the kitchen in search of the sign-up sheet. You find it on a wall next to the dining table, which has been turned into a beer pong table for tonight’s festivities, and the sheet is almost filled with names already. Sunghoon can only hope that by midnight, when the contest is set to take place, most participants will have had too much to drink to remember it. You write your names on the list, and Sunghoon likes seeing his name in your handwriting so much he almost wants to take a picture.

“There you guys are!”

You both turn around to find Jake stumbling towards you, clearly more intoxicated than when he had left you half-an-hour ago. He rests his arms on your shoulders, forcing Sunghoon down to his height and making you stumble forwards from the sudden added weight. “I’ve been looking all over for you- You’re entering the contest?!”

For a split second, Sunghoon is scared he’s going to get scolded by Jake for trying to hit on his sister, but surprisingly, it’s you he narrows his eyes at. “Y/N, what are you roping my little Hoonie into?”

Sunghoon groans, face perpetually red at this point. Leave it to Jake to make him seem like a total loser. 

You frown at your brother. “I’m not roping your little Hoonie into anything.” Sunghoon wants to bury himself alive. “We agreed on doing it together. Right?” you ask, turning towards Sunghoon and batting your eyelashes at him. It makes him feel a bit better.

He turns back to Jake. “Right. We’re just joining forces to crush the competition.”

Jake scoffs. “As if.” He snatches the pen from your hands and underlines his name as well as Kazuha’s, the girl he came with tonight, three thick black lines that almost erases the names underneath them. “You can’t beat the hockey player and cheerleader combo.”

“Those aren’t even costumes, you guys are a hockey player and a cheerleader,” you protest.

“So?” Jake simply retorts, more attitude in his tone than he would have were he sober.

“So, that defeats the whole purpose of a costume contest.”

Jake knocks on your cowboy hat, and you immediately put it back in place, glaring at him. “As if Barbie was the greatest costume ever. Whatever, let’s just play beer pong so I can defeat you guys twice in one night.”

“You’re on, Sim.”

“You’re going down, Sim.”

Sunghoon had just been watching your back-and-forth amusedly when you grab his hand, leading him to the side of the table opposite Jake. His fingers tingle under your touch, but just like that, it’s gone. He’d rather keep on holding your hand than play this stupid game, but he isn’t opposed to taking Jake’s ego down a notch, either. The boy can barely stand straight, anyway, so it probably won’t be a very tough match.

Some guy he doesn’t recognize in a striped black-and-white referee t-shirt fills most cups with beer and a couple on each side with shots of vodka—he’s so earnest, Sunghoon isn’t sure whether he’s just taking his costume-slash-role very seriously or if he has genuinely been hired to look over the beer pong matches of the night. Some order in the brutish world of college parties, Sunghoon guesses.

Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jay appear then, exchanging a quick look at the sight of you and Sunghoon together. The two former join your team, while the two latter join Jake’s, as well as other people that Sunghoon vaguely recognizes from other parties. But by the simple action of getting behind him, they become his most trusted allies for at least this part of the night.

You’re a terrible shot, but Sunghoon makes up for it by scoring almost every round. In his defense, he only misses when you come up close to him and whisper in his ear which cup he should go for. Your breath tickles his (oddly sensitive) ears and the combined scents of the strawberry and lemonade on your tongue and your delicate perfume make his head spin. He can barely think straight, so his aim is naturally thrown off—other than that, he makes Jay drink a healthy amount of beer. He almost feels bad for his friend, but he’d arrived late at the party and needed to quickly catch up with everyone’s level of ebriety anyway.

When the opposite team is down to their last cup, a lightning bolt of luck strikes you, and your ball disappears straight into the vodka-filled cup that Jake now has the honor of downing. 

Sunghoon gives you no time to celebrate, to gloatingly pump your fists in the air and point a mocking finger at your brother, because as soon as you make the shot, he wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you off the ground. When you’re on your feet again, you spin around to find a proud-looking Sunghoon beaming down at you. You burst into giggles and high-five him, your palms perfectly clapping against each other, and he threads your fingers together. A current of electricity rushes through him, and for a second, he swears it’s just the two of you in this packed room.

The moment is cut short by the loud cheers of the others on your team as they shake your shoulders and raise their hands for you to high-five them too. Minjeong flips the other team off and Yunjin has to go hug Chaewon and reassure her it’s nothing personal. It’s really quite easy to make college students happy—or devastated. 

You raise your eyebrows at Jake, who’s busy glaring at you instead of accepting his defeat and taking his shot. With a begrudging sigh, he tips his head back and drinks the vodka in one gulp, the cheers doubling in volume when his face scrunches at the bitter taste of the liquor.

“Don’t act so proud,” he scolds you. “Sunghoon carried your team.”

“Maybe, but she made us win in the end,” Sunghoon retorts, putting an arm around your shoulder. 

Jake scoffs, frowning at Sunghoon’s hand placement before eye-rolling his gaze away. “Whatever.” He slides his phone out of his back pocket and smiles as he shows the two of you his screen. “Would you look at the time? The contest is starting soon.” Then, with an accusatory finger pointed at you, adds, “You may have won this battle, but I’m winning the war.”

He stomps away, presumably to find Kazuha before the contest starts, and it’s your turn to eye-roll at his dramatics. You grab Sunghoon’s hand that hangs off of your shoulders, and together, make your way through the crowd again to the garage, where the contest is taking place. All the alcohol he’s been drinking has definitely started kicking in by now, and he finds himself giggling at nothing with you.

When you reach the threshold, still hand in hand, Sunghoon stops so abruptly behind you that you almost stumble. You look back at him, then follow his gaze towards the garage and the sheer amount of people in there. Worriedly, his eyes take in every single one of the contenders. You let go of his hand and stand in front of him, placing your hands on his shoulders and putting on a determined expression. You’d almost look like a parent reassuring their kid before their first day of kindergarten if you weren’t so much shorter than him. “Don’t even worry about them, Sunghoon. We look better than anyone here.”

His eyebrows crease. “There’s like, three other Barbie-Ken couples here. Some of these costumes are so original. And do you see their makeup? Is that even possible?” he asks, staring at a couple in scarily realistic cosplay of Simon and Jeanette from Alvin and the Chipmunks, fur and all. He can’t look at them for too long without getting chills.

You shake your head. “Almost everyone here is either a hockey player or a… hockey-affiliated person. You’re the beloved and talented defenseman of the team and I’m the star player’s sister. They’ll love us,” you say with a smile, watching the worry dissipate from his features.

“We’re like nepo babies,” he whispers. His lips break into a grin when your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “I don’t know how nepotism works,” he admits, smiling wider when you burst into laughter. “How do you know if I’m talented, anyway? You haven’t seen me play yet.”

Your eyes rake him up and down appreciatively. “I took a wild guess.”

Not unlike a cartoon character, Sunghoon audibly gulps. As a hockey player since his most tender age, and dare he say, a pretty good-looking guy, he is used to girls flirting with him, and he is even hit sometimes by the occasional lightning strike of confidence that allows him to flirt back (he still can’t believe he managed to call you “a distracting sight” without spontaneously combusting). But there’s something in your eyes, in your smile, in the way you talk—something about you that has his breath hitching and his heart racing. He doesn’t know if he wants to run away and hide in a corner or kiss you right then and there.

Heeseung, the captain of the hockey team, announces into a microphone (which Sunghoon wonders where they got the money for) that the contest will start now, so he can neither kiss you nor run away. Instead, he follows you to the side of the room where all the contestants, including Jake and Kazuha, wait for their names to be called out. There are so many participants, it takes way longer than Sunghoon would like for the two of you to step onto the makeshift stage. Judging by the looks on the audience’s faces, everyone is surprised to see you and Sunghoon together—the hockey community at your university may be big, but everyone knows everyone, and gossip travels fast. No one had seen you and Sunghoon together before, for the obvious reason that you hadn’t even met before tonight. But you could be sure that by tomorrow, as silly as it sounds, word will have gone around that you and Sunghoon had participated in a couple costume contest together. 

At least, you give them something of substance to talk about—as you and Sunghoon pose on stage, wearing your brightest smiles to please the crowd, you stand on your toes and press a kiss to Sunghoon’s cheek. Sunghoon’s eyes burn a hole in the side of your face but you just watch as the audience of drunken 20-somethings goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. Jake is the only one booing. 

Sunghoon is still in shock when the next couple is called forward and you have to step off. His cheeks are redder than before and he can’t quite meet your eyes. Apparently, he also goes wild over something as simple as a peck on the cheek. You nudge his shoulder. “See, I told you they’d like us.” 

He feels like a fourteen-year-old for it, but Sunghoon can’t stop thinking about your soft lips against his cheek, so much so that he barely says a word as the three judges deliberate. If you notice the sudden change in his behavior, you don’t comment on it, perhaps chalking it up to nerves. He’s glad for it—he doesn’t know if he could handle being teased about it, especially from you. Although he’s not sure he wants you to think he’s the kind to stress over a last-minute Halloween costume contest. 

In the end, you don’t win. He suspects it was a rigged contest all along: the couple in the unimpressive Edward and Bella costume are friends with one of the judges, probably leading to their anticlimactic victory. At least it isn’t Simon and Jeannette who win, or Kazuha and Jake, even less original than the winners. Anyway, Sunghoon couldn’t care any less. With your hand in his as you walk back to the main room in search of your other friends, he feels like the biggest victor of the night. He doesn’t even mind it when his teammates tease him about his costume and how good the two of you look together—the smile you shoot him makes putting up with it worth it. He tries to think straight, but between the alcohol and your proximity, he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him.

Jake stumbles into your group, three drinks drunker than when Sunghoon last saw him, enthusiastically reporting that a game of spin the bottle is about to start in one of the rooms upstairs, because what every college party needs is a middle-school game to shake things up. None of the guys seem particularly interested until Jake reveals that the cheerleaders are playing. 

Sunghoon looks down at you, laughing when he sees your mildly disgusted moue. “Don’t feel like playing?”

“Not really, no.” Your eyes linger on his face. “There’s only one person here I want to kiss, anyway.”

All capacity for thought leaves Sunghoon’s brain. He just stares back at you blankly, lips slightly agape, willing himself to say something but also terrified that whatever leaves his mouth might make him seem like the biggest loser ever. 

You couldn’t possibly mean him—but did you? Was he the person you wanted to kiss?

As these questions resound through his head, your gaze drops to his lips. There’s his answer. 

His heart beating wildly in its cage, Sunghoon decides to do one smart thing tonight and leans in, slowly but surely closing the gap between the two of you. Then a sudden vibration in the back pocket of his jeans zaps through him like lightning and he jumps back, as if startled out of the trance you had put him in. Shame flooding his cheeks, he checks his phone; it’s the stupid alarm he set himself earlier to make sure he doesn’t get home too late. Midnight, Cinderella-style. 

You scratch the back of your neck as your eyes dart around the room. For the first time tonight, you look embarrassed—Sunghoon is in disbelief at how pretty you look even then. “I, um,” he starts, clears his throat. “I have this thing tomorrow morning, so I can’t stay too long…” he says guiltily.

He doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he swears that what he sees on your face is disappointment. It makes him want to take it all back, to stay here with you for as long as you want and forget about tomorrow morning. 

“Oh, right,” you say, nodding. “That’s fine. What thing?”

“Oh.” Sunghoon turns an impossibly deeper shade of red, further resembling the strawberry syrup the more he gets himself in these embarrassing situations with you. “Just… choir. I go to choir on Saturday mornings.” He looks down at his feet like he’s just revealed a secret, shameful part of himself.

You burst into laughter, and Sunghoon is scared for a second that you’re making fun of him, and his feelings are a lot more hurt than they should be by someone he just met. Although, to be fair, you don’t feel like someone he just met.

“That’s so cool! It must be such a nice change from all the dudes on the hockey team,” you say, a sweet, curious smile on your lips. Like you mean what you say. Like you might want to know more.

Sunghoon thinks he just fell in love.

He chuckles. “Yeah. Definitely a nice change. As much as I love hockey, it’s nice to do something calmer, you know. And I like singing. And the cakes the local grandmas bring.”

“So that’s what it’s all about, really.”

“Yep, you caught me.” Sunghoon still feels the almost-kiss lingering, a tension between the two of you that has him on edge. He feels like he’s just missed his bus because it left a minute earlier than planned. The opportunity is gone, and he would definitely mess everything up, trying to kiss you now. So instead, he decides to leave. Whatever must happen, will happen, even if it’s not tonight. You have the same friends—this is definitely not the last time you will see each other. “Well, I should probably head. I have to be up at eight tomorrow.”

“Oh, wow. The choir grandmas don’t play around.”

“They really don’t.”

“Well, see you around then,” you say, a clumsy laugh falling from your lips as you wrap your arms around Sunghoon’s neck, bringing him into a tight but short hug. You also smell good, he notes to himself. Of course you do.

“See you, Y/N.” Just as he’s about to turn away, you wrap your hand around his wrist.

“Wait. Sunghoon?” He’s only half-surprised at the immense relief he feels to hear his name on your lips. Like you, too, didn’t want to part with him just yet.

“Yeah?” he says, wishing the hope and anticipation aren’t too obvious on his face.

“Where’s that choir of yours?”

--

When Sunghoon arrives at his neighborhood’s community center, ten minutes before nine a.m., you’re already there. Despite the seven hours of sleep under his belt, he feels like he could’ve done with three more, and the singular cup of instant black coffee he had for breakfast was both atrocious and useless. But your smile has the restorative effect of two Red Bulls and a power nap. You look surprisingly bright, like you either managed to get a very good night’s sleep or are just the biggest morning person to ever exist.

He hugs you when he reaches you on the sidewalk, tighter than he probably should, but you return it. You smell like fresh soap and sugar. The two of you exchange quick greetings before he leads you inside the center. 

“I made some cookies as well.” You point to your tote bag and Sunghoon’s jaw slackens.

“You had time to bake?” 

“Kazuha made me take Jägerbombs, so I felt crazy when I got home. I thought it wouldn’t be fair on the old ladies if they did all the work.”

Sunghoon laughs. “They’re going to love you.”

You follow Sunghoon up two flights of stairs and into a spacious room with a wooden stage. There’s a snacks table on one side of the room that is almost fully decked with plates and tupperwares of all sorts, and although their contents remain covered by tin foil or lids, the coffee and hot water pots are free to use. Most of the chairs are stacked on each side of the room but a few have been put in the middle, the grandmas sitting and chatting there waving at Sunghoon as the two of you walk in. There are about fifteen people in the room so far, most of them older ladies, but not only. There’s a dad that came with his daughter, a couple of teenagers, and a few other adults. It’s quite an eclectic mix, and Sunghoon loves it.

Minjeong is here, too, which Sunghoon realizes he forgot to say until he sees the sheer confusion of finding someone you know in an unexpected place on both of your faces. She walks towards you, suspicious eyes darting between you two.

“Hey,” she says only to Sunghoon before turning to you, arms crossed over her chest. “And what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Minjeong, so nice to see you too!”

“I invited Y/N,” Sunghoon says quickly, although you did technically invite yourself. For some reason, he feels the need to defend you, even though he knows you and Minjeong have been friends for years now, and Minjeong is just always this blunt.

“I didn’t know this was the choir you went to,” you say to Minjeong.

“Oh, this?” She looks around the room. “It’s only the choir I’ve been going to since I was a kid. You’d know that if today wasn’t the first day you showed interest in it, ever.”

“I came to your concerts!”

One of the old ladies calls Sunghoon’s name from the snack table, and he is glad for the diversion. “Right. I’ll let you guys talk this out.” A hand on your shoulder, he smiles down at you. “I’m gonna say hi to the ladies over there. Be back in a minute.” He shoots Minjeong a look as if to say, Be normal. 

As he approaches the small group, one of them asks very loudly if you’re his girlfriend. They all burst into giggles, blushing and eager-eyed like they’re sixteen rather than sixty. Sunghoon would be endeared if you didn’t look so alarmed and Minjeong so horrified, both of you looking at him before turning back to each other and getting into a very heated and secretive discussion. He is bombarded with a hundred questions: what your name is, where you’re from, how did the two of you meet, are you together? No? But you’re so pretty! And he’s such a nice boy! He answers all of their queries to the best of his ability while checking that your conversation with Minjeong hasn’t turned physical—your arms are now also crossed over your chest, and you look annoyed while she looks like she’s accusing you of something, but at least, punches aren’t being thrown. 

Thankfully, it’s only a couple more minutes until the conductor calls for everyone to gather on stage, and a weight is lifted off of Sunghoon’s shoulders once the ladies’ collective attention is no longer on him. He isn’t sure where they came from, or why they’ve decided to make the choir rehearsal their hang-out spot, but there is always a group of women who sit there and knit while chatting quietly or listening to the songs, and they are sometimes joined by children whose parents are part of the choir but don’t want to sing themselves and apparently have nowhere else to go. Sunghoon had been so excited at the prospect of having you come see him that he hadn’t thought of how boring this might be for you, sitting with sixty-year-olds for two hours, listening to an amateur choir go through scales and sing corny romance ballads—they’re rehearsing for a wedding they’ve been hired to sing at. But as the minutes go by, his worry dissipates when the delighted smile on your face hardly falters. He can’t imagine that his choir is that good, but you genuinely look like you’re having a nice time, and it makes Sunghoon stand a little taller, sing a little louder. Your eyes are on him for most of the time, and he blushes every time your gazes meet, but he still can’t keep himself from looking away from the conductor to check on you every few seconds.   

Once rehearsal is over, everyone gathers around the refreshments table. When you tell Sunghoon that he looked good out there, he stuffs his mouth with banana bread to stop himself from blurting out something stupid. Your cookies are a hit, and so is everything else—Sunghoon would be more than happy to watch you eat as many baked goods as you possibly can and chat with the grandmas, but he has something to ask you. Without thinking much, he wraps his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling you away from the table and towards him. The question that was at the tip of his tongue fades as soon as you meet his eyes, looking up at him like a deer caught in headlights, cheeks stuffed with brownie. You’re so cute that words fail him for a second, and when he notices the proximity between the two of you, takes a small, bashful step backwards. You glance at his hand still around your wrist, and he withdraws it like he’s suddenly been burned. 

A playful smile grows on your lips. “Everything alright?”

He scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just, um, well. There’s a bus that takes us from right across the street directly to the beach, if you’re, um, if you’re interested. In going. With me. If you want.”

Your eyebrows cock in surprise, and Sunghoon thinks he’s messed it all up. You shoot Minjeong a quick, worried glance, then seem to think for a second. But when you look back to him, your smile is soft. “That sounds nice.”

An hour later, you’re running around together on the beach—or rather, Sunghoon is running around, and after five minutes of watching him with a smile on your face, he’s convinced you to run around with him. You’ve both long discarded your shoes and socks, jeans scrunched up to your mid-calves, grins so wide, your cheeks start to hurt. The wet sand is hard under your feet and the water cold against your skin. Sunghoon’s t-shirt sticks everywhere you sprayed water on him, and he knows putting his shoes on later will be a whole ordeal, but it doesn’t bother him. Even the gray September sky feels brighter because you’re standing with him underneath it. 

The water-splashing battle quickly has you both out of breath, and Sunghoon is ready to call a truce when you spot something behind him, gasping and running towards it. He turns around to find you picking up a bunch of sandcastle-building toys that must’ve been left behind by some kids. “I haven’t built a sandcastle in such a long time, this is so exciting,” you say, excitement written all over your face. 

As much as he loves seeing the glint of childish amusement in your eyes, Sunghoon keeps looking around in case the owners of these toys might appear out of thin air. “I feel like there’s something immoral about this,” he says, and you stop stacking sand into one of the toys to look at him with a confused frown. “Aren’t we technically stealing from some kids?”

“Sunghoon. If those kids really cared about these plastic toys, they wouldn’t have left them here.”

“What if they come back for them?”

“Then we’ll give them back. We’re not monsters.” That’s all it takes for Sunghoon to give in. He helps dig trenches around the towers you build, carving out small windows on them and apologizing profusely when he accidentally pokes too hard into one of them, destroying half of it. 

The second he notices you shivering, Sunghoon is on his feet, unwrapping the scarf around his neck and laying it like a blanket over your shoulders. “I’m going to get us something warm to drink. I’ll be back in a minute!” he announces before you can even protest, and practically runs to the nearest café. 

He only leaves you and the slightly pathetic-looking sandcastle alone for a minute, quickly coming back with two take-away cups of milky Earl Grey tea and a brownie that he couldn’t help himself from buying. The moan you let out when you bite into it, gooey, sweet chocolate sticking to your teeth, goes straight down Sunghoon’s spine, but he tries not to let his thoughts get too carried away.

“Good, right?” he asks, laughing when you nod fervently. When you laugh too, it’s a sound so sweet, it rivals the decadence of the brownie. “I sometimes make the trip all the way here just for this.”

“I thought I’d be done with sweets after this morning, but this is so good.”

“Better than Berta’s banana bread?”

“Oh, a hundred percent,” you say, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak. “Sorry, Berta. I’ll be thinking about this for the rest of my life.”

Sunghoon hopes you’ll remember him as the boy who’d introduced you to those brownies, if nothing else.

The two of you are silent for a little bit, but it’s a comfortable silence—something Sunghoon didn’t know was possible with someone he’d just met. This was something he loved about the sea: it allowed for some quiet. The crashing of the waves against the shore, the calls of the seagulls, the dogs barking after them—it all meant he didn’t need to fill the space with needless chatter. He could look out at the peaceful water, you by his side, and just enjoy the moment.

“I’m still so amazed whenever I come to the beach, no matter how many times it’s been.” Sunghoon’s voice is quiet when he speaks, lower than usual. It sounds a lot more intimate than he means it to be. You turn your head to look at him, silently asking him to go on. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, a twinkle in his eyes as he watches the water. “The town I grew up in is right in the middle of the country, so the sea is like, a five-hour drive. There was a lake nearby, but it was nothing compared to this. It might sound silly, but being from somewhere where everyone knows each other, I never realized just how big the world was until I came here and saw the sea for the first time.”

“You’d never been to the sea before coming here?” you ask, surprise clear in your voice. 

He shakes his head. “My hometown isn’t far from the mountains, so it’s a huge tourist spot both in the winter and in the summer, which meant my mom had to work even when my sister and I were out of school and could actually go on holiday. We’d go visit my grandparents and aunts when we found the time, but that was it.” He meets your gaze, a smile playing on his lips at the thought of his hometown and his family. “This is the furthest I’ve ever been from home.” 

The corners of your lips raise into a smile too, matching Sunghoon’s. “And how has that been going?”

He sighs. “It’s okay. I miss my mom and sister like crazy, of course, but they FaceTime me so much that I barely notice it. And anyways, it’s also nice to be on my own. Discover another part of myself, and all that.”

“For sure.” 

There’s a slight shift in your expression that Sunghoon catches onto, a falter in your smile and a hint of sadness in your eyes. He doesn’t want to force a topic that you don’t want to talk about, so he just gently eggs you on, in case all you need is a small push.

“What about you? I think Jake mentioned you guys growing up around here, only an hour or so away.”

At the mention of your brother, the smile returns to your eyes. You take a deep breath and think for a bit, but eventually, you start talking. Although Sunghoon’s eyes are on you, you keep yours trained on the sea. “Yeah, we did. We live just up the coast, so we were always hanging out at the beach. In a way, it’s nice having the sea here as well. It’s like-I don’t know.”

“Like having a piece of home even when you’re away?”

Your gazes meet for just a second, the surprise clear in your eyes, but as quickly as it came, it’s gone, and you turn away from Sunghoon once more. “Basically, yeah.” A sardonic smile appears on your lips. “Although the constant reminder isn’t always appreciated.” 

He tilts his head. When you don’t say anything further, he flicks some sand onto your hand and asks you what you mean by that. He looks at you with curiosity and kindness only, eager to know more about you, to let you know that you can open up to him, that he won’t judge you, but careful not to overstep any boundaries either. It seems to work.

“It might sound stupid, but back home, the beach was a place I could go to when it all was a bit too much, you know? Like an escape from everyday life. Where I could forget about all of the pressure on my shoulders.” Sunghoon hums, and you take another deep breath. “I don’t know if you and Jake talk about this sort of thing, but… our parents are barely nice when we do well, and pretty awful when we don’t reach their expectations. So we were like, constantly having to outdo ourselves just for them to say, ‘Keep it up’, or something like that. And if we did something wrong, well…”

You trail off, but Sunghoon knows what you mean. “Yeah, Jake said they barely spoke to him anymore because he decided to play hockey instead of becoming, like, a doctor or something.”

You smile, but it’s humorless. “Yep. They send him money, and he comes home for a bit over Christmas and summer break, but that’s it. I’ve gone home by myself sometimes and they won’t even mention him, it’s insane.”

“He also doesn’t talk about it a lot.”

“I know. I’m always the one to bring it up. I know it’s a sensitive topic for him, obviously, but I still find it amazing how well he deals with it. But me… despite everything, I still need their approval, you know?” you ask, and Sunghoon nods.

“That makes sense.”

You sigh. “I guess. And I’m obviously not becoming a doctor like them. Not a medical one, at least. It took a year of convincing them that doing the degree I’m doing was okay. ‘Cause at the end of the day, it’s still me filling in my university applications, and they can’t actually force me to go to medical school, but I still wanted them to be proud of me. Even if I study languages.” It’s quiet for a few seconds as you both look out at the waves crashing against the shore. When you start talking again, you look down at the sand, picking it up and letting it filter through your fingers. “So, yeah. Jake got a scholarship here, and I didn’t wanna be too far from home, so here we are. We’re so close to home, the sea I went to when I needed a break in high school and the sea I go to now are one and the same. And now it reminds me of my parents rather than making me forget about them.”

“I’m sorry for bringing you here,” Sunghoon says. “I didn’t think…”

You cut him off with a smile. “It’s okay. Now I’ve created new memories. Nice ones. And you know… wherever I am, it’ll be at the back of my mind. It’s up to me whether I let it affect my life or not.”

“Letting go of these things is never easy,” Sunghoon offers. “You also can’t blame yourself if it does affect you sometimes.”

When you look at Sunghoon, your eyes darting back-and-forth between his like they’re searching for something there, he feels himself tense up slightly. He can’t read you at all, has no idea what you’re thinking even as you smile and say, “You’re right.” Even as you silently link your pinky with his, gazing down at your hands with a small smile. He hadn’t realized how cold his hands were until this small touch, so small yet able to spread warmth throughout his entire body. When he speaks, he can’t bring himself to meet your eyes—he’s still so focused on where your hands touch, too aware of the skin of your finger right against his. Such a small, innocent touch. He can’t even begin to understand why it means so much to him.

“For what it’s worth, I think what you’re doing is super cool,” he says. “I’ve always been so shit at foreign languages, let alone dead languages. And packing your bags and going abroad for a year, not everybody can do that. Becoming a doctor might be hard, but it also takes a specific kind of person to do what you do. And what Jake does. It’s all valuable.”

“Now, if you could say that again while I record you to show my parents, please,” you say, making him laugh.

“It’d be my pleasure.”

“What about you?” you ask him after a small pause. “I can’t be the only one who trauma-dumps on the first date.”

Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat. He hadn’t even dared entertain the thought that this might be more than a platonic hang-out in case he was crossing a line—but you’ve just called it a date. With just a few casual words, you’ve changed the entire meaning of the hours you’ve spent together. He hopes you can’t tell how flustered it’s made him.

“Well, there’s not much trauma to dump, really. Sorry.” 

You giggle. “Don’t apologize. That’s a good thing.”

Now that you’ve just opened up about your parents, Sunghoon is scared that telling you about how good of a childhood he had might come off as insensitive—but you smile softly at him, holding his hand face-up in yours, tracing the lines of his palm with the tip of a finger, and he starts talking. “So, it was just me, my older sister and my mom growing up. My dad died when I was 2.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It is a bit sad that I don’t have any memories of him, but everyone who knew him said he was a great guy. And my mom’s had this boyfriend since I was like, 10? He’s the one who got me to start hockey. So it hasn’t been that bad.”

“Your mom must be really strong.”

Sunghoon smiles. “She is. She’s amazing. To raise two kids on your own while grieving and not royally fuck up is… well, amazing. She’s always been so supportive of us, no matter what we wanted to do. My sister did well at school, but I wasn’t so good. I never really enjoyed it, but she’s never made me feel bad about it. She didn’t mind that all I wanted to do was hit a puck around.” 

“And you’re pretty good at hitting that puck around, aren’t you?”

“I’m not so bad,” Sunghoon says, chuckling along with you. He’s about to go on, but he is cut off by a raindrop hitting his hand, then another one; before either of you know it, your clothes are soaked through. Sunghoon takes his denim jacket off, using it as a makeshift umbrella for the both of you as you run towards the nearest awning, shaking with giddy laughter until you forget about the chilly rain and the clothes sticking to your skin. When it doesn’t let up for another few minutes, Sunghoon suggests catching the bus back, and you agree. 

The heating on the bus is set on low, but it’s enough to warm Sunghoon up as soon as he steps onto it. You sit at the back in a corner of your own, multiple rows away from the other people onboard. The two of you are relatively quiet, lost in your own thoughts until Sunghoon, after much internal deliberating, takes one of your hands in his and interlaces your fingers together. You look up at him, but he doesn’t return your gaze, eyes fixed on the window to hide his shy smile and the blush slowly staining his cheeks. To his surprise, you squeeze his hand and rest your head on his shoulder. He freezes for a second, unsure how to react to your reciprocated affection, but he makes himself relax into your touch, and starts brushing his thumb back-and-forth on the back of your hand. The sudden storm has made day turn to night a little earlier today, and with the quiet hum of the bus, he finds himself on the edge of sleep for the whole ride—the only thing keeping him awake is his booming heart.

The bus is nearing his stop when the buzz of his phone in his back pocket jolts him awake. You lift your head from his shoulder, massaging your neck as you fish your phone out of your own pocket. Sunghoon, more intrigued by you than by whoever has texted him, watches as the brightness of your screen makes you wince. Once you’ve read the text, you turn towards him, sleepy eyes and sleepy voice as you ask him whether he’s seen “this,” referring to a text from Chaewon. dinner at our flat tonight!!! come whenever. bring drinks. 

“Oh, I forgot she was doing that tonight,” you say through a yawn.

Sunghoon chuckles. “Do you have enough energy for it?”

“I always have enough energy for Chaewon’s cooking.”

You and Sunghoon make a pit-stop at a grocery store to buy two bottles of white wine and the hummus Chaewon likes, then head to your flat. Naturally, questions are asked when you and Sunghoon arrive at the exact same time, but before Sunghoon can explain that you spent the day together, Minjeong’s head pops out of the kitchen door, and she asks whether you ran into each other downstairs. Chaewon is only looking at the both of you, waiting for an answer, so she doesn’t see the very pointed look Minjeong gives you, as if to say Agree with me or else. You quickly glance at Sunghoon then say, “Yeah, we just arrived at the same time.” When they’ve both turned away, you tell him in a hushed tone that you’ll ask her about it later. 

The girls are busy in the small kitchen and Chaewon insists that they don’t need any more help, so you and Sunghoon bring two chairs by the kitchen door and sit as Yunjin catches the four of you up on the most recent drama in her Law cohort. Jay arrives twenty minutes later, but it isn’t another hour before Jake shows up with the excuse that he was taking a nap.

“Someone would think you don’t sleep at night, with the amount of naps you take,” you say.

“Oh my God, I miss when you weren’t here,” Jake replies, flicking your forehead before promptly plopping himself down on the couch. “I was so hungover when I woke up. I had to sleep it off,” he explains as he grabs four cans of beer from his backpack. 

Chaewon always makes a point to ask how everyone’s spent their day, but today, she unfortunately starts with Sunghoon, so he doesn’t have any time to come up with anything believable other than the truth, which is exactly what he does—and when Jay asks, What, to the beach by yourself? under Minjeong’s heavy gaze, he has no choice but to say yes. He isn’t sure why it’s such a big deal that you spent the day with him, or why it needs to be kept a secret, but there must be a reason. He’ll find out later. When it’s your turn, you look straight into Sunghoon’s eyes as you say you spent the day at the library but didn’t get much work done. Everyone ignores Jake when he exclaims Boring! and Chaewon swiftly moves onto Jay.

But you don’t. 

Your eyes stay on Sunghoon, unflinchingly watching him, expression unreadable, and he finds himself unable to look away, even as he feels his face heat up and his stomach flip. Then you smile, a satisfied smirk like you got what you wanted, and shift your gaze to Jay, who’s going on and on about the first six episodes of Lost he binge-watched earlier and wondering why nobody had told him about this “masterpiece of a show” before. Sunghoon is too busy thinking about the way you’d looked at him and pondering all the reasons for it to listen carefully. He watched Lost when he was fourteen anyway.

All throughout the evening, as the seven of you eat Chaewon’s pasta dish (which she made entirely from scratch, and is probably one of the best things to have ever graced Sunghoon’s taste buds), drink, talk, and afterwards, play card games, every glance between you and Sunghoon feels like a secret conversation that only the two of you are privy to. No one except for Minjeong is aware that you spent the day just the two of you until now—and even she doesn’t know what it is you did. Within a day of knowing each other, you already share memories that are yours and no one else’s. Sunghoon is giddy with the knowledge, heart skipping every time your eyes meet, no matter how fleetingly. When you’re all saying goodbye, it takes everything in him not to hug you for an awkwardly long time and to tear himself away from you. 

He can hardly fall asleep that night.

--

For the entirety of the year you were gone, Sunghoon could only nod and smile while the others bemoaned your absence or commented on how much more fun it’d be if you were here (even Jake, after enough wine spritzers, would admit to missing you). He understood that the group dynamics might feel different to them without you around, but this particular set of people was all he knew, so he never minded it. It reminded him of people telling him how sad it must’ve been growing up without a father, trying to be empathetic, when he didn’t know how he could miss something he never had. 

But now that you’re here, he gets it. You add something to the group that he can’t quite put his finger on. It’s in your affectionate gestures towards Chaewon and Yunjin, in your shared sense of humor with Jay (which no one else seems to find funny, save for Sunghoon, sometimes), in your bickering with Minjeong and downright arguing with Jake. It’s a hackneyed expression, but you do light up a room—at least in Sunghoon’s opinion, you do. In your presence, everything feels not only more lively, but also more cohesive, like you were the missing piece of a puzzle. Like a historic work of art that has been returned to its rightful owner. 

Sunghoon just finds himself drawn to you, at times unable to keep his eyes off of you, and the only things keeping him from making a move are his inherent shyness and the eyes of your friends. He doesn’t want to mess up the friendship he has with anyone from the group, least of all Jake, just because he can’t keep it in his pants. He thought of Yunjin and Chaewon, how their relationship had gone smoothly from the beginning and posed no problem to the dynamic of the group, but he had no idea if this was replicable between you and him at all.

If he had to be honest, a big part of him was also just afraid you’d reject him.

Getting a read on you is hard, which doesn’t help. It’s been three weeks since the gang reunited, since that party where you met. The first semester of his second and your fourth year started a little bit over a week ago; Sunghoon sometimes worries that you think there is some big age gap between you and that you see him as a kid, even though, admittedly, two years is not such a huge difference. In those three weeks, there have been many encounters which could be seen as cases of flirting between the two of you—Sunghoon has noticed every single one of them and replayed each an embarrassing amount of times in his head. A hand carefully posited on his shoulder; prolonged eye contact; jokes whispered in his ear at a crowded house party; knees lightly touching at first, then pressed together during movie night. None of it ever fails to make Sunghoon’s heart flutter. You could breathe in his general direction and it’d make his heart beat fast enough to worry a cardiologist, so when you smile at him, it’s a small death every time.

And so he dares hope that his interest isn’t one-sided—although most of the time, he is so stuck between thinking none of it means anything and thinking every single thing you do is a sign that you like him, that he rarely knows what to think. And whenever you’ve paid him enough attention to make him believe it’s not all in his head, you do something that proves him wrong. Watching you interact with other people, he realizes that you keep good eye contact with everyone and that you’re just as touchy and playful with all of your friends. At parties, you hit it off with new people and catch up with old friends without so much as a hint of awkwardness. He watches as you talk to other guys, the same smile that has been making him weak for the past three weeks, directed towards them and not him. Sunghoon assumes you’re either really nice to everyone and oblivious to the fact that it could be seen as flirting, or you just flirt with everyone. 

In that sense, the two of you are complete opposites. Sunghoon, whose entire friend group hangs on the fact that he befriended Jay, who knew Jake, who knew you, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon. Sunghoon who has spoken to maybe half of his hockey team outside of the locker rooms and the occasional party. Sunghoon who, outside of his usual friend group, has managed to make three other friends on his own in the year he’s been at university, because they had been put in a group project and magically hit it off enough to upgrade from classmates to friends. 

Then there’s you, who has to stop every thirty seconds at a party to say hi to someone you know. You, who still keeps in touch with the friends you made in a foreign country, even those who spoke broken English. You, who didn’t make Sunghoon feel like his crippling shyness was a problem when you first met. 

He doesn’t understand how everyone who meets you doesn’t instantly fall in love. 

Or maybe they do, and he’s just one of many vying for your heart. 

Tonight is one of the nights where all he can do is watch from afar as you interact with another man that he desperately wishes was him. With your lower back against the kitchen counter, drink in hand as you laugh with that other guy, eyes never leaving his face, it almost looks like someone has copied your time with Sunghoon at the costume party and pasted it onto this post-hockey game party. All you’re missing is a bright pink cowgirl hat and boots to match.

And yet, it’s his team jacket over your shoulders, his name and number on your back. Sunghoon shouldn’t feel nearly as jealous as he does.

So he does what any good friend would do, and blames Jay for reasons completely unwarranted—even now, days after receiving his advice, and hours after taking it, Sunghoon still can’t help but regret involving him at all. 

Initially, Sunghoon hadn’t wanted to tell anyone about his growing feelings for you—he’d thought that if he pushed them away and kept them to himself, they’d go away on their own. But clearly, they didn’t, seeing as how his stomach always twisted in nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing you and how he could never get through a conversation with you without blushing. So, quicker than he’d like to admit, he’d given in and told Jay about the day you’d spent at the beach and how felt about you now, thinking it was some big shameful secret that would render his friend flabbergasted. 

That was his first mistake. 

Jay wasn’t impressed. “Yeah, it’s been pretty obvious, dude,” he’d said through a mouthful of cheeseburger. It was after hockey practice, and they were sitting in the burger joint near the ice rink that had some of the best student deals in town. Jake was going on a Hinge date, and Sunghoon had lured Jay in with the promise of free food (Jay wanted to go home and game, but all Sunghoon needed to do to convince him was to say “I’ll pay for it”). 

“Obvious? How obvious? Does everyone know? Does Jake know?” Sunghoon asked, growing more agitated by the second.

“Jake is possibly the worst room-reader that has ever lived, so no, I don’t think he’s caught on. But the rest of us know. I mean, you look at her like a twelve-year-old with a crush on his English teacher,” Jay said, unceremoniously cramming fries into his mouth.

Sunghoon ignored the slightly humiliating remark, still preoccupied by the fact that he hadn’t been as discreet as he thought he had. He leant in towards Jay and dropped his voice to a whisper, even though the restaurant was practically empty, save for them and a group of rowdy middle school boys who were definitely not paying attention to them. “Do you think… does she know?”

Jay dropped his fist on the table in sudden annoyance, causing Sunghoon to jump back in his seat. “Now you’re acting like a twelve-year-old.” Before Sunghoon could defend himself and argue that he’s being completely rational, Jay launches into a surprisingly moving monologue. “It’s fine if you like her, there’s nothing to be embarrassed of. Everybody feels attraction towards other people, everybody gets crushes, it’s no big deal. Just talk to her. Worst case scenario, she doesn’t feel the same way, and you both move on, because you’re adults.”

There’s nothing worse than a friend being right about something you absolutely don’t want to hear. Sunghoon did feel like he had been carrying a horrible secret around, but Jay was spot-on: crushes are a very common, very human experience. And yet Sunghoon managed to feel like he was the only one who had ever had to go through this torture. “You say that like it’s easy,” he said, sulking.

“It is easy. You’re making it hard.”

“So what, your advice is just to confess to her?”

Jay rolled his eyes. “See? You’re saying confess like it’s some sin you have to repent for. Yeah, just tell her.”

“Just tell her,” Sunghoon repeated, looking at his friend like he was crazy. Jay just took another bite of his burger.

“Yeah, dude. It’s not even like you’ve known each other for a long time, so there’s no risk of ruining a friendship, or anything.”

“But do you even know if she feels the same way at all?”

Jay shrugged. “She hasn’t mentioned anything,” he said, and Sunghoon’s heart dropped in disappointment. “But it’s Y/N, she’ll be cool about it. And who knows, she might actually see something in you, for some godforsaken reason.”

Jay laughed at his own joke, and Sunghoon afforded him a chuckle. They moved on to other topics, but later, as they waited for Jay’s bus to come, he couldn’t help himself. “Do you think Jake will mind? If something happens with Y/N and me?”

Jay thought for a second. “I think he’d be more upset with her than with you, what with everything that happened with Heeseung... But knowing him, he probably won’t care as long as you aren’t weird in front of him.” He puts a hand on Sunghoon’s shoulder and shakes it gently. “Don’t let that stop you from making a move, okay? You’ll cross that bridge when you get to it.” His bus came then, so Sunghoon couldn't ask for more details about this Heeseung situation—he knew that there had been something between you and him which hadn’t ended particularly well, but no one ever really talked about it so he didn’t dare bring it up. All he knew was that it had been significant enough for Jay to mention it now, and for Jake to seem bothered every time it was mentioned.

He put all of that out of his head for the time being. In a way, he had just received Jay’s blessing; even if it scared him shitless, he could make a move. Perhaps not something as straightforward as Jay was suggesting, but something, at the very least. 

The first major hockey game of the season was that coming Friday. Sunghoon had an idea.

The morning of, he shot you a text. He tried to make it sound as nonchalant as he can, so that you wouldn’t know he spent close to an hour deleting, writing and pouring over a singular sentence. Can you meet me in front of the locker rooms 30 mins before the game? 

That was his second mistake.

You replied twenty minutes later, twenty minutes that Sunghoon spent questioning everything that had led up to this moment.

yn.sim i’ll be there!!

You even got there five minutes early. He was waiting for you, all decked out in his hockey uniform, save for the gloves and protective headgear. He was anxiously chewing on gum, heart doing somersaults inside his ribcage—a grin found his lips as soon as you appeared around the corner, the sight of you alleviating his nerves for a second, then doubling them when you came close. “Hey,” he said, voice soft and slightly trembling.

“Hey,” you simply replied, a smile on your face to match his as he took you in his arms. It was a hug that lasted a second longer than it should, but that also ended too early for his liking.

“Um, I only have a second, Coach will be wanting to give one of his pep talks,” he said when you separated. One quick glance back at the locker room doors behind him, then back at you. The tips of his ears burnt, and he couldn’t stop his eyes from furtively darting between your face and the floor. But he’d come this far, so he couldn’t back out now. He just had to get it over with. “Here,” he blurted out, holding out the letterman jacket he had been hiding behind his back. You grabbed it, eyeing him with amused suspicion at first, but surprise spreaded over your features as you unfurled the jacket.

“Your team jacket?” 

He couldn’t tell whether you were amazed or horrified. You stared wide-eyed at the jacket, at its dark green sleeves, at the four letters of his last name and the huge number 8 embroidered onto the back. Your surprise faded back into what he thought — what he hoped — was excitement as you looked at him. He scratched the back of his neck, feeling his face flush red. “Yeah, I just, you know… It’s the first big game of the year, and I thought it’d bring me good luck if a pretty girl was wearing my name…” he explained, repeating the words he’d practiced over and over, voice turning into more and more of a mumble as he spoke. He had planned on speaking with more confidence, but now, the fact that he could speak at all felt like a miracle.

A light giggle spilled out of your mouth. Sunghoon immediately took it for mockery and regretted every decision that had led him here. “Sorry, it was a silly idea, you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it,” he said, reaching for the jacket. But you were quicker than him, hugging the thick bundle of fabric to your chest as you now beamed at him.

“Are you kidding? I love it,” you said, shrugging off your jacket and replacing it with his.

First, relief flooded his body, then pride and excitement — as you spun around and showed the jacket off — at seeing his name on your back, and his attempt at making a move being successful. At least, he thought it was clear what he meant by giving you his jacket to wear at his game—he could only hope you understood. “Well… I’m glad.” Your eyes met, and you both chuckled softly, gazes holding each other’s for a second too long. 

Two weeks ago, Sunghoon still would’ve been able to convince himself this was a fluke; that this was just another one of his crushes that a gentle breeze could blow away. Because after all, when Sunghoon fell in love, it usually went as quickly as it came. But at that moment, in front of the locker rooms, his mind solely on you and not the opening game of the season, he realized this was something else entirely. And whatever it was, he hadn’t felt it in a good long while.

He was terrified—but infinitely excited, too.

“Okay, I should probably head back in now,” he forced himself to say, but made no move to go.

“Okay.”

He paused. “Will you be cheering me on?”

Your smile widened. “Of course.”

He nodded slowly, upper body starting to turn away but feet still firmly planted on the ground. “Okay.” 

Another second passed, and just as he was about to actually walk away, you grabbed his hand. Before he could compute what was happening, you lifted your head and pressed a small kiss to his cheek. His hand was still in yours when you took a step back, and for once, it was you who looked sheepishly at the floor. “For good luck,” you explained. He had no time to reply—you were already walking away, only looking back once to wave and shoo him in the direction of the locker room. He chuckled and nodded, but waited until you were out of sight to head back into the locker room.

Inside the locker room, everyone was too focused on getting their head in the game to notice his giddy smile. Your lips had been warm and soft against his cheeks, a welcome repeat of that time at the costume party, but the quickness of it all had only made him want more. From that very first night he’d met you, the question of how your lips would feel on his had scarcely left his mind. This brought him a step closer to getting an answer, but also made his curiosity grow tenfold.

Thankfully, by the time his coach gathered them around for a last minute pep talk, he’d managed to put the distracting thoughts of you out of his head, at least temporarily—he’d need to play well, for himself and his team mostly, but impressing you was also a priority. 

As the captain, Heeseung said a few words. He reminded the team of how important this match was and went over the main strategy points. For the time being, Sunghoon was able to forget about his arguably unfounded resentment against the older boy and whatever it was he had to do with you. This was not the time for jealousy over someone he had no right to feel jealous over. 

A few minutes later, his members and those of the opposing team poured out onto the rink for warm-up. Sunghoon searched the crowd for your face—when he found it, you were already smiling wide and waving at him. His heart did something funny, but Jay punched his shoulder pad and he remembered what he was there for. He could get lost in the eyes of a pretty girl later, specifically when he’d destroyed the other team and shown her how good of a hockey player he was.

Every now and then as he skirted around the rink and did his stretches, he stole glances at you. They didn't last long, because every single time, you’d already be looking, as if your eyes never strayed from him. Knowing you were watching made him nervous at first, but by the end of warm-up, mainly because he didn’t have much of a choice, he’d turned those nerves into an ever stronger will to do well.

The moment the referee blew the whistle, and for the hour that followed, Sunghoon was locked in on one thing and one thing only: winning. He was only competitive when it came to hockey—he didn’t care about dying in an online battle game or losing to Jake at beer pong, but once he was on the rink, he had to win. Pride surged through him and filled every crevice of his aching limbs whenever he or one of his team members scored, and the feeling that came with a victory, with hugging his teammates in celebration or hearing the crowd cheer for them, was like nothing else he’d ever known. The other side of that coin meant that any loss was a tremendous disappointment. Getting beat at an important game could put him in a week-long funk. His sister had once carefully hinted at his self-esteem relying too much on his hockey performance, and although his first reaction had been to dismiss her, he knew she had poked at some truth there. But what could he do—on particularly lonely nights, he truly thought hockey was all he had going for him. 

To his overthinking nature, becoming so single-minded the second the whistle blows was a relief, a break from the stress of daily life. He didn’t have to worry about his next deadline or about what the guys on the team thought of him or about the inevitable phone call to his mom asking for more money for groceries. It was respite from the thoughts surrounding you that plagued him: how you felt about him, how you might react knowing what he felt for you, how Jake might react. Why Minjeong hadn’t wanted you to say anything that evening, but why Jay had told him to just go for it. Heeseung, whom he had to respect as the captain and an undeniably talented player, but also as someone who had had something to do with you, whether good or bad. All of it had been wildly bustling around Sunghoon’s mind, but once on the rink, all he had to concern himself with was the puck and getting it in the opposing team’s goal. 

And Sunghoon did just that—he scored the first goal of the game, another one in the second period, then a third during the eleventh hour, breaking the tie between the two teams. He smiled right at you after each one, just to make sure you had seen everything. He couldn’t quite describe how it felt to see you clap and cheer for him, jumping up-and-down, forming a megaphone with your hands around your mouth and yelling, “Go Sunghoon!” all while you wore his jacket. It was a separate kind of pride and satisfaction from the sort he’d get seeing anyone else cheer him on, for sure. 

The other team put up a good fight, getting in a few goals of their own and protecting their side well, but in the end, thanks to Sunghoon’s goal, it was his team that won. He took his helmet off and got his hair ruffled by half of his team, then shook hands with the other team, trying to contain his boastful smile—some ice hockey players flew off the handle very quickly, and starting a fight was the last thing he wanted.

Kids and local fans huddled by the barriers on each side of the player’s tunnel to get an autograph or a picture. People around here were weirdly attached to their university sport teams, and the athletes on teams that did particularly well — namely football and rugby — were sort of local celebrities. Their ice hockey team wasn’t quite at that stage yet, but they were placing better nationally with every year, and so the local interest had grown. More kids had started signing up for lessons, and their parents often brought them to home games. As Sunghoon chatted with men twice his age and took selfies with ten-year-olds, he tried to find you in the crowd, to no avail. He’d been hoping for a thumbs-up from you for a game well played, or even a hug, but you were nowhere in sight.

It wasn’t until half-an-hour later, after saying bye to all the fans that had waited after the game for them, listening to Heeseung and their coach congratulate them (but also remind them to not take anything for granted), showering and changing, that he got to check his phone.

chaewon we going k-bbq! u guys played well see u later at da party!!!!

Disappointment only had a second to sink to the bottom of his stomach. He’d barely finished reading the text when he was hoisted up by the shoulders. Two of his senior teammates, Soobin and Beomgyu, marched him towards the exit. “We are getting you wasted tonight, Park,” Beomgyu announced, a wide grin on his lips.

“I have a good feeling about this season,” Soobin added. Sunghoon looked back to find Jay and Jake simply shrugging and laughing at him.

Indeed, the second they got to the dorm where tonight’s party would be taking place, a beer was thrusted in his hand. It was only 7 p.m., still light outside, but that didn’t stop the team nor their friends that had come to the game. They sipped beer like it was water, so much so that two hours later, when the party started to grow, Sunghoon was already quite inebriated. It didn’t help that his cup was never empty for too long, and that he had the reassurance of being in his own dorm—it was the closest student building to the ice rink, and so was one of the prime spots for hockey parties. He could get as drunk as he wanted — or as Beomgyu wanted — and still get home in less than a minute. 

He somehow ended up in the corridor, part of a nonsensical conversation about candle-making with two guys he had recognized from one of his Phys Ed classes but could not for the life of him remember the names of. One had shared that candle-making was a big hobby of his, and it had made Sunghoon and the other unknown man lose their minds—Sunghoon had never realized how curious about candle-making he was, but he couldn’t stop asking questions. It sounded great. Maybe he’d have to pick up candle-making, too. 

Eventually, he headed back to the kitchen for a new drink. For the nth time this evening, he thought of texting you, then immediately thought against it. He wanted to know when you’d get here, but he didn’t want you to know that he wanted to know—although as the night deepened and his intoxication rose, he could remember less and less why that would be such a bad thing. He stepped into the kitchen, and going from the brightly-lit corridor to the dark kitchen with flashing neon lights made him so dizzy that he made a beeline for the couch, needing to sit down for a second.

And that was when he saw you.

Lower back against the counter, talking with a guy he’s never seen in his life. You look like you’re having fun—smiling, laughing, keeping eye contact with that guy. You’re still wearing his jacket. It should probably reassure him—his name is literally on you, what does it matter that you’re speaking to someone else? But instead, all he can think is that wearing his jacket must mean nothing to you. What was basically a confession from him seems to have fallen on deaf ears.

His friends’ words over the past year come back to him—how much you flirt with people, how it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to go home with a guy after a party and never speak of him ever again. Was this what was happening here?

He knows it’s unreasonable, but in his drunken state, he takes it as a betrayal. Like he can’t believe you haven’t read his mind, figured out how he felt about you, and decided to give special attention to him and him only. He’s only able to take it for so long—two minutes later, he trudges out of the room, walking right past you but not looking your way.

His new mission is to find his friends, but before he’s done much searching, he hears his name being called out. Of course, he recognizes your voice immediately, but he doesn’t quite believe it until he looks over his shoulder, and there you are, face glowing and smiling wide. You’ve clearly had a few drinks, but he likes to think you’d be just as happy to see him if you were sober. He turns around to face you, watching as you narrow the distance between the two of you. He’s not in a much better state—the simple thought that you had come after him makes him forget any sort of resentment he held against you a second ago. When you reach him, he holds on to one of your arms, as much an effort to stabilize his swaying body as an excuse to touch you.

“Hey,” he simply says. He’s always at a loss for words around you, so scared he’ll say the wrong thing that he ends up barely speaking at all. He’s only sober enough to know that with all the cheap beer and vodka running through his blood, his odds of making a fool of himself are even bigger. 

“Hey. I was wondering where you were.” 

“You’re the one who came late.”

“I know!” you exclaim. “I wanted to come right away, but Chaewon was hell-bent on getting her Korean barbecue.”

“She does get cranky when she hasn’t had pork belly in a while.” Sunghoon feels like he’s just won the Nobel Prize when you let out a laugh. “Was the food good at least?”

“It was amazing. So worth getting here late,” you joke.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “I see how it is.” Then, before he can stop himself, he adds, “Then we should go there together next time.” 

Your smile changes, turning from cheerful to surprised, but amused—almost mischievous. You take a step forward. Sunghoon gulps; the gap between the two of you was narrow to begin with. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Usually, this type of straight-forwardness would have him stuttering, but drunk Sunghoon is a man sober Sunghoon barely recognizes in the morning. “Yeah. I am. Is that okay?”

You nod. “Mh-hm.”

“Nice. Okay.” For a second, you just look at each other. Another thing about drunk Sunghoon: he doesn’t feel like prolonged eye contact will make him spontaneously combust. He actually quite enjoys it. He also stumbles, even when all he’s doing is trying to stand straight. “You’re still wearing my jacket,” he eventually says, reaching out to take the end of your sleeve between his fingers.

You stretch out your arms and appraise the team jacket as if you only remembered you had it on. “Yeah. It’s comfy.”

“It looks good. You look good.”

“You’re not quite sober, are you?” you ask suddenly. 

“Is it that obvious?” When you nod, he giggles, lowering his head in defeat. “The guys made me drink so much.”

“You did score three goals after all. And you looked good doing it.”

At the praise, he stands up to his full height and places his palms behind his head in a victorious pose. “I did, didn’t I?” he says, looking off in the distance with a self-assured look that makes you burst into laughter. He drops the confident facade and laughs along with you, until somebody bumps into him and sends him stumbling forwards. If you weren’t standing there to catch him, he’d probably have fallen flat on his face. But even though he doesn’t fall, he feels all the alcohol catching up to him and threatening to come right back out where it came from. You hold him for a second, and just as you ask him if he’s okay, he says, “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

You sigh. “Okay. Where’s your room?” 

Arm under his shoulders, you let Sunghoon lean most of his weight on you as you guide him towards the elevator. It’s just one floor, but you said you didn’t want to risk the stairs with him. “Hey, who was that guy with you in the kitchen? That guy in the striped shirt? You guys seemed real chummy back there…” he mumbles as you help him out of the elevator. Even on the verge of sickness, Sunghoon is preoccupied by more important things.

“Oh, that was Jaemin.”

“Jaemin,” he echoes, more venom in his voice than needed.

You look at him, taking in his disgruntled expression, and chuckle. “Yeah, he’s having some problems with his boyfriend. He asked me for advice.”

Sunghoon almost freezes in his tracks, but you’re there to keep him walking towards his room. “Oh. He has a boyfriend.”

“Yeah…” He can tell you want to tease him about it, but thankfully, you say nothing. He’s made it clear he had gotten jealous of your gay friend—no need to spell it out in so many words. Once you reach his studio (which he’d stupidly left unlocked), he heads straight for the bathroom, locking himself in, half out of embarrassment, half because he really doesn’t want you to see him throw up. Talk about a turn-off. He leans over the toilet bowl, waiting for the vomit to rise, but nothing comes. He waits, and waits, mind completely empty, head spinning even though he’s sitting very still, when suddenly a knock on the door pulls him out of his stupor.

“Sunghoon? It’s been ten minutes. Everything okay?”

He doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the door for you. Without realizing, he fell asleep like a bored teenager in math class. “All right,” he hears you say.

He’s surprised you’re able to carry him out of the bathroom—if he was a deadweight before, by now, rigor mortis has practically set in. Despite his small student room, crossing it takes you an entire minute, and when you reach his bed, you all but let him flop on the mattress. He doesn’t mind. As soon as his body hits the bed, he feels quite snug, curling against his blanket. You start to unbutton his shirt, probably just thinking he’s already fallen asleep and wanting to make him more comfortable, but your fingers freeze when he starts giggling. Shoulders shaking with unbridled laughter, he feels as delighted as a five-year-old who just said a naughty word and made all his drunk relatives laugh at the family dinner. 

“I know I looked really hot tonight, but can we wait until I’m sober?” he asks, slurring his words slightly and keeping his eyes shut, despite the shit-eating smirk on his lips. You hit him on the chest but it just makes him laugh more.

“Bold of you to assume I’d still hit when I’ve just had to peel you off your toilet seat.” He lets you finish helping him out of his button-down. 

“Wouldn’t you?” he asks. He tries to look at you, but his eyes don’t quite open all the way, and they don’t focus properly, due to a strong mix of alcohol and inappropriate thoughts. Of you, specifically. His body feels suddenly very heavy, his want for you weighing him down into the mattress. The room is dark, your face illuminated only by the light in the bathroom and the glow of the street lights outside. You always look pretty, but your beauty is especially breath-taking right now, Sunghoon thinks. He wants to reach out and touch your face, wants to trace your jawline and know what your skin would feel like against his fingers. He doesn’t realize he’s actually doing it until he hears you inhale shakily.

The expression in your eyes is unreadable, and quickly gone, replaced by an annoyed squint. You grab his wrist gently, setting it back down next to him. “I’m gonna make you some ramen. You need to sober up, and you haven’t had dinner, have you?”

Sunghoon shakes his head. He feels rejected, and it makes him inordinately sad.

For five minutes, he watches as you rummage around his cupboards for a pack of ramen, fill a pot with water and bring it to a boil. His thoughts float back to your day at the beach, memories that he’s preciously held onto for the past few weeks. You running around on the sand, opening yourself up to him and letting him open himself up to you, holding his hand on the bus. That day, he’d really thought it would be the beginning of something new; but as time passed, he became less and less sure of himself. He’s scared it might’ve just been a fluke, and that he’d have to destroy the castle he’d built in his head. He’s seen you almost every day since, but it’s never been the same. And even if your eyes met unexpectedly sometimes, or if you went out of your way to sit next to him during movie nights, he can’t let himself go on with so few signs. Jay was right—he had to be clear about his feelings, otherwise this would go on forever. Even if it didn’t feel like it, the Earth would continue spinning on its axis if you didn’t reciprocate.

“I’ve missed you.”

You pause in your movements. “Missed me? But we’ve seen each other every day,” you say after a few seconds, still facing away from him. Your voice is softer than he’s heard it before, almost unsure of itself.

“No,” Sunghoon whines, frowning. He can barely keep his eyes open—he wishes you could read his mind so he wouldn’t have to explain, but alas. “I miss you—the you from the beach. When it was just me and you. It’s not the same with the others around.”

Silence falls over the room again. Sunghoon wonders if you’re just going to ignore what he said, until you take a deep breath, and walk back to his bed. You crouch in front of him and take both of his hands in yours. Electricity flows from where your hands touch to the rest of his body. He suddenly feels a lot more awake.

“It’s just the two of us now,” you whisper. 

Sunghoon nods. “I know. It’s nice.”

You smile. It might be the alcohol playing tricks on him, but Sunghoon swears there’s a hint of sadness in your eyes. One of your hands comes up to his hair. You thread your fingers gently through it, pushing it away from his forehead, then bring your hand down to the side of his face, your palm cupping it tenderly. Sunghoon lets himself lean into your warm touch. With his eyes closed, the darkness surrounding him makes this feel like a dream—he basks in the moment so as not to let a second of it go to waste.

“Do you wanna do something just us two this week?” you ask softly. His eyes shoot open—he needs to be sure this is really happening. He nods again, fervently this time, and it makes you chuckle. “Okay.”

“Just us two?” 

“Just us two.”

He relaxes once more. He guides your hand towards his mouth and presses his lips against your palm. Something shifts in your eyes—Sunghoon thinks the opportunity to finally kiss you has arisen, but as soon as his gaze drops to your lips, you’re back on your feet. “Let’s eat some ramen, shall we?” you ask as you head back towards the kitchen. Sunghoon tries his best (and probably fails) to not let his disappointment show.

There’s no dining table to speak of, only a low table near Sunghoon’s bed, on which you set down a wooden board and the steaming pot of spicy noodles. You hand him a pair of chopsticks and a spoon, and tell him to eat. Neither of you say much for a while, and Sunghoon grows redder and redder under your watchful gaze. He asks if you want any a few times, but you always turn him down. The silence quickly gets a little too unbearable for him, and he’s got a question burning the tip of his tongue anyway. Now’s as good a time as ever to ask it.

“Something’s been bugging me recently, actually…” You wait for him to go on. “So, at the costume party, right?” You nod. “You said there was only one person you wanted to kiss… Did you mean me?”

You tilt your head, looking at him like you’re trying to figure out whether he’s joking or not. “Yeah, Sunghoon… I meant you. Who else?”

He’s only half-relieved. “So why won’t you kiss me now?”

To his surprise, you smile. “Because you’re drunk.”

Confusion fogs Sunghoon’s brain. Is that all you’re worried about? Is his blood alcohol level the only thing stopping you from kissing him? “But I-I’m fine. I give you consent to kiss me, Y/N.” He’s dead serious, so when you laugh, it only frustrates him further.

“Finish your food, Sunghoon. We’ll see about kissing later.”

He sighs. Later he could deal with. “Fine. But I’ll hold you to it, okay?” he says, pointing a menacing chopstick at you.

“Okay.”

But Sunghoon can’t keep quiet for long—ten seconds later, he’s remembered another question he’s been dying to ask. He continues drinking his soup in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “So what happened between you and Heeseung?”

The question takes you so off-guard, you look like you would’ve done a spit-take had you been drinking water. “That’s-you know about that?”

“Well, not much, that’s why I’m asking.”

You scoff. “Why do you want to know? It’s boring.”

At those words, Sunghoon whips his head up to look at you. “It’s not boring!” he exclaims, perhaps a tad too vigorously. “Anything that has to do with you is interesting to me.”

Finally, the corners of your lips rise. Sunghoon hated the ten seconds in which you weren’t smiling. “Well, there isn’t much to say, anyway. We had a thing when we were in second year, I caught feelings and wanted more, and he didn’t. The end.”

Sunghoon freezes, staring at you with his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth agape. He then sets his cutlery down neatly next to the pot of ramen and clasps his hands together like he’s in a business meeting. “So you’re telling me that he had the opportunity to make you his girlfriend and he just… didn’t?”

You shrug. “Basically, yeah.”

He hits the bedsheets next to him, huffing out in annoyance. “What an idiot.”

“He sure is,” you say. You smile to yourself as you grab Sunghoon’s spoon and try some of the broth. He wonders whether anything lies behind that smile. “But it happened a while ago. Don’t be weird with him on my account. He’s still your captain.”

Sunghoon thinks for a second. “Can I side-eye him once in a while? Or not pass him the puck during practice?”

“Sure,” you reply, laughing. You swiftly move on to other topics as Sunghoon slurps the last of his noodles, asking him about the beginning of the party and just how much his teammates made him drink. He’s recounting the shot contest they held, which Mark won with an impressive seven shots of tequila in a row — Sunghoon hopes the boy is okay now — when your phones buzz at the same time. Minjeong’s name appears on your screen, Jay’s on his, both asking where you are.

“Should we head back now?” you offer, although Sunghoon, wishfully perhaps, detects a trace of reluctance in your voice. “You look like you’ve sobered up a bit, seeing as you’re able to string more than two sentences together.”

“I wasn’t that bad!”

“I should’ve filmed you.”

It’s one a.m. when you head back down, and the party is in full swing. Pop music blasts through someone’s JBL speaker in the shared kitchen, the hallways are more crowded than the subway at rush hour, just as full of hockey fans celebrating their team’s win as students who just wanted an excuse to party, and every window is open to alleviate some of the stuffiness. They probably have another hour left before the dorm residents who decided not to join in the festivities call campus police on them.

Sunghoon is relieved to find that Jake is off with other team members, reaching levels of drunkenness that will most definitely be regretted in the morning. Technically, he hasn’t done anything wrong—he simply let you nurse him back to sobriety after he almost regurgitated his pre-game protein bar and three beers all over your nice shirt. Chaewon and Yunjin are busy making out in a corner, their lack of decorum only increasing when they’ve been drinking, but Jay and Minjeong eye you suspiciously upon seeing the two of you arrive together. You explain what happened so casually that they don’t question it any further.

Chaewon and Yunjin only tear themselves off of each other when a Beyoncé song starts playing, and they drag all four of you to the makeshift dancefloor, which is really just three meters away in the middle of the kitchen. Sunghoon is practically all sobered up by now, but he’s loosened up enough not to feel self-conscious with every step he takes; the fact that you look so happy, dancing with him and laughing at his silly moves, is a considerable bonus. He won’t drink any more, not wanting to risk embarrassing himself further in front of you, and Jay, as the group’s self-proclaimed health guru, probably had his last beer around nine p.m., but the girls, each of them with a cup of suspicious transparent liquid in hand, are getting drunker by the minute—and so is Jake, who has now joined you all on the dancefloor, if his inability to stand straight is anything to go by. Sunghoon assumes you’re also done with alcohol for the night, until you turn to him in the middle of a song no one has heard since 2015 and tell him you’re going to get a drink.

“Okay!” he simply answers, and for a good thirty seconds, basks in the blissful satisfaction of knowing he was the one you informed of your whereabouts. That is, until he realizes a minute later that it was probably a covert invitation for him to come along, which he totally missed. But when he looks over at the counter where all the drinks are, his heart drops—Heeseung is standing in front of you, pouring gin and lemonade into your cup. A flurry of emotions course through Sunghoon, emotions he has no idea what to do with, because he’s not sure they’re entirely warranted. He’s angry that Heeseung is talking to you, after what he did, confused that you’d let him; but mostly, he’s jealous. But he knows it’s only because he has no guarantee that you like him, and that you won’t go off with Heeseung, despite having just talked about how you were over him.

Wait—is that really what you said? You told Sunghoon that what happened with Heeseung didn’t bother you anymore, which doesn’t necessarily mean you wouldn’t go back to him, given the chance. 

Before he can think it over a second time, Sunghoon heads over to where you and Heeseung stand. He places himself right behind you, reaching for a bottle of Coke on your side and pouring himself a drink.

“Oh, hey, Hoon,” his team captain says, clearly surprised to see him there and looking so discontented. Sunghoon can’t remember whether they’ve ever been close enough for Heeseung to call him by his nickname. “Having fun?”

“Yep,” he curtly replies, avoiding eye contact with either of you and looking out at the crowd of party-goers instead. He can feel your gaze, heavy on his face, can see the knowing smirk slowly rising on your lips. How was it that you could see right through him so easily?

“Too much dancing made you thirsty?” you ask, taking a drink from your cup and hiding your smile behind it.

He glares at you, more annoyed that his attempt at subtly sussing out what you and Heeseung were doing together was shut down so quickly than anything else. “Yep,” he repeats.

“You guys know each other?” the older boy asks, eyes darting between the two of you.

“Jake introduced us,” Sunghoon quickly answers. To his surprise, this makes Heeseung chuckle.

“Jay, Sunghoon, me… Wow, do you meet all your friends through your brother, Y/N?” he asks jokingly. Immediately, so many alarm bells ring in Sunghoon’s head—the implication that you and Heeseung are friends, the fact that he put himself and Sunghoon in the same bag, and above all, that teasing, almost flirtatious tone of his. 

He’s horrified to find you rolling your eyes playfully and saying, “I have other friends, thanks,” in a tone far too similar. At that moment, Minjeong starts yelling about how much she loves everyone in this room but particularly “you guys,” pointing to Jake, Jay, Minjeong and Chaewon, and “you guys, too!” screaming over the music as she points to you and Sunghoon.

“There’s one of them,” you say, half-amused, half-exasperated. “We should probably go check on her. See you around, Heeseung.”

“Right. See you, Y/N. Sunghoon.” 

Back to no-nickname basis, apparently.

Your group’s indicator of when it’s time to go home is when Minjeong starts one of her “I-love-my-friends-so-much” rants—if she’s that drunk, everyone else must be wasted. Indeed, Chaewon and Yunjin are holding onto each other to keep themselves from falling down, and Jake is unable to keep his head up. You, Sunghoon and Jay herd your friends outside and wait for Jake’s Uber, making sure to get him safely inside and to tip the driver generously for his pains. Jay lives nearby yours and the girls’ flat, and Sunghoon, ever the gentleman, walks you all home.

“Just ‘cause you and Jay might need a hand getting these three home,” he tells you. Yunjin, Chaewon and Minjeong are currently running around on the road, pointing and laughing at random shop names, and Jay is yelling at them to get back on the sidewalk.

“Mh-hm.”

“And it’ll be good to completely sober up before going to bed.”

“Right.”

There’s no use putting up a front with you—he’s an open book and you’re an avid reader. You don’t need to say anything to make it clear that you know it’s just an excuse to spend more time with you.

“You know, I told you not to be weird with Heeseung,” you say, gently punching him in the arm.

“Was I weird?” he asks, knowing fully well he hadn’t acted at all like he usually did around his captain. 

“You basically only spoke to let Heeseung know we’re friends. You were making yourself all tall and looking mysteriously out into the distance instead of at us.”

“But I am tall and mysterious,” he says, pride coursing through him as it always does when you laugh at one of his jokes.

“You’re probably the least mysterious person I know, Hoon.”

Hoon. How much sweeter that name sounds coming from you over anyone else.

“So you agree that I’m tall?”

You roll your eyes, but there’s a grin on your face. A win is a win. “That’s just a fact.”

Sunghoon smiles victoriously. “I’ll take a fact. But I’m sorry if I was acting weird… I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t bothering you.”

“Heeseung is always bothering me,” you say with a sigh. “He comes up to me like this at every party. He’s just asking how I’ve been, but it’s like he’s sussing out whether or not he’s still got a chance.”

“Do you need me to beat him up? Threaten him? Dox him?”

Even though Sunghoon was only half-joking, you burst out laughing, hard enough for Minjeong to whip around and shout, “What are you laughing about?” as if you had offended her personally. At least Jay is there to make her turn around and focus on walking straight.

“I appreciate the offer, but that won’t be needed. I just don’t like talking about it, ‘cause it’s really not that big a deal anymore. It feels like digging up old bones, you know?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I’d commit grave robbery with you.”

“You-what?”

“Nevermind. We obviously don’t have to talk about it, but I’m curious.”

You sigh. “I guess it’d make sense for you to know about this.” Sunghoon thinks he sees something like panic flash across your features, but it’s so quick and such a rare expression on you that he’s not sure whether he just imagined it. “You know-just ‘cause everyone else is aware of it, and everything,” you quickly explain.

“Sure.”

“I just… I’m sure Heeseung is a nice guy when it comes to other things, but what the girls and I have concluded is that he’s a bit of an attention whore, you know. When it comes to girls. We fooled around for a while, and he never made it official, even when I made it pretty clear that that was what I wanted. But every time we saw each other after that, he’d flirt with me like nothing had happened. I fell for it at first and flirted back, thinking he had changed his mind… but he really just wanted to make sure I was still into him.”

“Looking for validation,” Sunghoon says.

“Exactly. And when I realized that, I stopped giving it to him. I was getting tired of him anyway, saying the same thing every time. But now, I entertain him for a couple of minutes before I walk away. I shut him down before he gets a chance to do it to me.”

“That’s smart.”

“I know,” you say, smiling. “I understand the need for validation, but he won’t be getting any from me.”

Jay bravely handles the three drunkards the whole way home, letting you and Sunghoon hang behind and carry on talking. You reach the boy’s apartment first, and yours five minutes later. But when you reach your front door, Minjeong announces she needs to talk to Sunghoon. “Privately,” she emphasizes.

You give Sunghoon an amused look and shrug as if to say “She’s your problem now.” He doesn’t have time to protest before you’ve bid him goodnight and disappeared behind the door, Yunjin and Chaewon in tow, yelling good night at Sunghoon like they’re not going to see him for months. 

Minjeong places her palms flat onto Sunghoon’s torso and looks right at him—to the best of her ability, at least, considering she’s having a hard time focusing her eyes. “Sunghoon,” she says gravely.

“Minjeong?”

“Listen, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you,” she says, slurring her words. “You know I love Y/N, she’s amazing…”

“Yeah, she is,” Sunghoon says firmly—already, he can tell where this is going, and he doesn’t like it.

“But she’s not the best with relationships.”

“What do you mean?”

Minjeong’s hands drop by her sides and she exhales deeply. “I’ve just never seen her in a committed relationship in the-in the almost four years I’ve known her. She never lets things get serious. She’s just so afraid of being hurt, Hoon, and I-” 

A hiccup escapes Minjeong’s lips as tears start pooling in her eyes. Sunghoon has only ever seen Minjeong cry when drunk—even movies that had him sobbing barely made her eyes water. Even if she isn’t in her right state of mind, he knows it means this must be important to her. He holds her arms and tries to put on the most reassuring tone he can. “But I wouldn’t hurt her.”

“No, I know that. I’m scared you’d get hurt. I don’t want things to become weird between all of us.”

Sunghoon shakes his head. “Minjeong, what-that wouldn’t happen.”

“But it will!” she exclaimed. “If something happens with you and her, and it doesn’t work out the way you want it to, it’ll make things awkward-”

“If that happens,” he interrupts, “I’ll deal with it. I won’t make it your guys’ problem. Y/N and I are adults, okay?”

“You’re like, nineteen…”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t worry about it, okay? It’ll be fine.” He takes a step back and opens the door for her to get in. 

She’s only on the first stair when she turns back around. “But, Hoon-” she tries, though he cuts her off.

“Minjeong, I promise-”

“Just don’t rush into anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Go inside.” 

She complies, giving him one last look before climbing the stairs to her apartment. Sunghoon closes the door behind her, a heavy sigh leaving his lips.

--

Sunghoon is on his way home from hockey practice when his phone buzzes with a text from you.

yn are you still up for doing something this week?

He almost throws his phone in the air in celebration, as if it was a graduation cap. His Sunday was spent going back-and-forth between lapidating himself for his drunken stupidity, memories, rough as stones, hitting him in the face every time he thought of what he said and how he acted, and congratulating himself for having finally made his feelings for you somewhat clearer. Hopefully, you now know he isn’t just awkward and silent around new people—well, he is, but it’s worse with you.

She never lets things get serious.

Minjeong’s warnings echo in his head as he types a positive — although not over-enthusiastic, ‘cause that’d be uncool — answer, but he dismisses them easily. Perhaps he shouldn’t; Sunghoon is, after all, incredibly serious about any and all romantic encounters. The girl at the grocery store who reached for the same red bell pepper as him was the most serious thing to him in the world for a good ten minutes; all of his school crushes were of utmost importance to him, however long they had lasted.

So this? This is capital-s Serious. But therein lies the problem; he’s so serious about you that he’d let you not make it serious. If Minjeong is right, and you’re not planning on taking this nearly as far as he wishes for it to go, he can already tell he’ll just let you. He’ll probably be happy you wanted anything to do with him at all. 

He has ways of reassuring himself, of convincing himself he isn’t a totally lost cause. Because when Sunghoon falls in love — and he had an inkling this was what this was — it usually goes as quickly as it came. Who’s to say this time next week he won’t have completely moved on? Maybe this date that he’s agreed to will go horribly wrong, you’ll be rude to the waiter, you’ll spill tomato sauce all over your shirt, and the flame in his heart will be put out. Easy as that.

You decide to meet on Wednesday evening, two days from now. Sunghoon suggests a Japanese restaurant he likes, a place he had gone to with his mom and sister when they had dropped him off at university before his first year, and that he knows is nice enough for a date but won’t burn a hole through his wallet.

Seeing you at the library the day before is a real thrill. Nobody but you knows of your plans—at least not until he caves in and tells Jay about it, who congratulates him with a roll of his eyes and a pat on the head. All of your eye contact feels loaded with the kind of complicity that comes with sharing a secret. As much as he would love boasting about it to every soul who’d listen, this secrecy electrifies him—it binds the two of you with something much more real than before. At least, more real than Sunghoon’s imagination and one-sided feelings. He knows that your text wasn’t in any way a confession of your own feelings for him, but it’s a step in the right direction.

In the few hours before your reservation at seven p.m., Sunghoon spends so much time thinking about the date that he’s almost late for it. He thinks about his expectations, then tries to get rid of them; he comes up with ideas of what your expectations might be, remembers Minjeong’s words, dismisses them, remembers them again; he goes through scenarios upon scenarios of everything that might go wrong and everything that might go spectacularly well. He ends up with less than twenty minutes to get ready, but manages to arrive at the restaurant a minute before you.

When he sees you approaching, Sunghoon feels like one of those boys in Disney movies as they watch their girlfriend coming down the stairs in her prom dress. You’re not wearing an over-the-top poofy purple dress, but the effect is the same—his eyes are glued on you with every step you take towards him.

You grab him by the arm and lead him into the restaurant as soon as you reach him. He’s too busy taking in your appearance to be bothered by it. “Don’t look at me like that,” you chide as you wait for waiting staff to seat you. He’d actually think you were mad at him if it wasn’t for the small smile playing on your lips.

“Like what?”

“Like what you’re doing right now! You’re staring.”

Realization slowly dawns on him; your gazes have made him lose his composure too many times for him not to know what being flustered looks like. He’d be lying if the fact that it was you in this tight spot and not him didn’t heavily stroke his ego. 

“Why wouldn’t I? You look beautiful,” he says, dropping his voice to a whisper so that the approaching waitress can’t hear. Her presence saves you from responding verbally, but as she brings you to your table, you pinch his arm lightly as if to say Be on your best behavior—although Sunghoon would argue this was his best behavior.

You have trouble making up your mind about the food—you want to try everything on the menu. Sunghoon tentatively offers to order a bunch of dishes and share them. “It’s what my family always does at the restaurant, just try as much as you want and take the leftovers to go. We never ate out very often because my mom would spend so much money every time,” he recollects, smiling fondly.

“That actually sounds like a dream. My parents would never do that. It was always just eat what you got, but I’m unable to look at someone else’s food and not want to try it. It honestly should just be common practice to share dishes at the restaurant.”

Sunghoon thinks he could get down on one knee right then and there. Whenever they went out to eat, the boys would roll his eyes at him when he stole bites of their food. But you—you’re like him. He knows he’s prone to over-exaggeration, but he can’t help but feel like if you understand each other on this, you must understand each other at a molecular level.

He had expected a level of awkwardness to your date, at least at the beginning — God knows the moments in which he doesn’t feel like a mumbling fool in front of you are few and far between — but to his surprise, everything goes smoothly. There is no uncomfortable silence, all his jokes miraculously land, even the lousy ones, and you both laugh and talk and share sushi and pork cutlets like it’s the most natural thing in the world, which perhaps it is. His attempts at flirting are well-received and he only turns violently red twice when you compliment him and smile at him in a particularly pretty way.

It’s that day at the beach all over again. Always on the same page, you dip in and out of topics with a synergy he has rarely felt before. Sunghoon realizes it must be the presence of others, rather than you yourself, that makes him feel like he can’t act the way he wants to around you, makes him so nervous. Save for the moments where you make his heart flutter like a thousand butterflies’ wings, he actually feels quite at ease with you, all things considered. Of course, he still tries — and fails — to look cool for you, but he knows it comes from a place within himself rather than because you make him feel as though he has to meet a certain standard. Surprisingly, he can be totally himself, and it seems to be enough for you.

He loves his friends. He wouldn’t trade them for the world. But he’s not sure he won’t have moments where he’ll wish nothing more than for them all to go away and leave the two of you be.

You eat until you can’t anymore and are still left with enough food for another full meal. You only let him get the bill once he’s promised that next time will be on you. If it means there’ll be a next time, he’s more than happy with making that promise. The sun has set when you exit the restaurant. Sunghoon shivers as he steps outside, the temperature having gone down by at least four degrees in the last two hours.

You grab his hand; it warms him right up.

Your apartment is a thirty-minute bus ride away, but Sunghoon offers to walk you home. Anything to spend more time with you.

He spends the first few minutes of the walk worrying about his hand, whether it’s too clammy, whether it’s holding yours right, but he eventually relaxes into the touch. When a particularly chilly gust of wind blows, you drop his hand and hold onto his arm instead, inching closer to him for more warmth.  He only drank lemonade with his meal, but he feels blissfully light-headed.

Silence only arrives when you reach your doorstep. You stand in front of each other, Sunghoon looking down at his feet, you gazing out at the empty street. He knows this is the moment where he is supposed to kiss you. If there was a step-by-step guide on how to date — there probably is, but Sunghoon hasn’t resorted to such loser-like measures yet — this would probably be the moment where it would be written to just kiss her, you idiot. But nerves get the best of him.

At least, you’re there to save the day. You direct your gaze towards him, a bashful smile playing on your lips. “So… are you gonna kiss me now?” you ask, essentially reading his mind. 

He reacts immediately. “Y-yep. Yes. I am.” Heart racing, he takes a step towards you as he rests his hands on your waist. Then he changes his mind, and brings one hand up to your cheek. There’s an eyelash that has fallen below your eye; he brushes it out of the way with his thumb before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.

In all of his late-night scenarios and daydreams of kissing you, he had never imagined something as good as this. You find your rhythm within seconds. It’s slow, almost hesitant, yet so tender, it makes Sunghoon’s heart ache. As your lips move against each other in perfect sync, as your hands find their way around Sunghoon’s neck, he realizes he should have known — this will not go away as quickly as it came.

Only when you grab a fistful of his hair, making him react viscerally and wrap his arm around your waist to bring you closer to him, does he remember where the two of you are. He leans back, then almost passes out when you chase his lips and press a shorter but just as sweet kiss there. He commits this view to memory—the smile on your lips, the glow on your face, the haziness in your eyes.

“Do you wanna come up?”

“Yes,” he replies immediately, and it makes you laugh. You grab his hand and lead him up the stairs and into your apartment.

“Are the girls in?” he asks as you lock the front door.

“Minjeong is at karaoke with her school friends, and Yunjin and Chaewon are at a dinner party somewhere.”

“Minjeong karaokes?”

“Get enough G&Ts in her and she’ll do anything.”

You turn on a small lamp in your room and take off your jacket. Sunghoon has been in your apartment before, but never in your room—at some point, he’ll spend an hour observing every photograph and trinket in detail, asking you about every backstory, but right now, he’s got more important things to tend to. His heart beats uncontrollably as you shut the door to your room and walk towards him, eyes gazing deeply into his. The corners of your lips rise when you tug at the bottom of his sweatshirt, a clear indicator that you want it off. He wastes no time in obliging.

The air is buzzing with electricity when your lips find each other again. You’re both more confident this time around, and so the kiss is deeper, your touches bolder. Everything happens quickly—one second, you’re standing in the middle of your room; the next, you’re laying on your bed, Sunghoon underneath you. 

“You know,” he says between kisses, “I’d really planned on being a gentleman and not going up to your room after the first date…”

Your lips move from his lips to his jawline, warm and soft against his skin. Sunghoon closes his eyes and lets out a low hum of approval. “I’m glad you changed your mind,” you whisper, lips brushing against his neck as you speak. “And since we’re onto confessions, I can finally say I’ve been wanting to do this since we met.”

This information sends his mind reeling. Not once had he been sure of how you felt about him — he even remembers you saying no to a kiss — and here you are, saying you’ve been wanting to kiss him since the beginning, just like he had. 

“You’re me,” he replies breathlessly.

“Hm?”

“I mean, me too.”

You pause your kisses to giggle, a sound so soft and intimate it has Sunghoon melting impossibly more. “You’re me?”

Unfortunately, he is too preoccupied by you to put a filter between the weird, half-formed thoughts in his brain and the words that leave his mouth. “Don’t question it,” he says, a smile audible in his voice, before moving his head and catching your lips. If he couldn’t stop himself from saying odd things, he could at least distract you from them.

Sunghoon thinks he’s doing a good job keeping himself together, until you roll your hips against his. It’s barely anything, but it sends waves of pleasure and anticipation through his body. His grip on your waist tightens, and when you repeat the motion, his hands sneakily find their way down your back and under your dress. Palms splayed against your ass, he brings you down closer to him. The second you moan into the kiss, he’s a goner. 

After that, it doesn’t take long for clothes to be discarded or for curious fingers to find the other’s waistbands. Your movements are hasty, messy—the tension that had built up over weeks of pining for you, after getting close to kissing you twice and thinking about it a hundred times more, it all comes crashing down in this moment, as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, as your hands pull at strands of his hair, as your bodies gently bump into each other. If someone asked Sunghoon right now how long he’d known you, he’d say years, not mere weeks. It couldn’t possibly be real that this much desire had accumulated inside of him — and inside of you, if your broken moans and rapid breathing are anything to go by — in just over a month. 

He only slows down when he has you naked and heaving underneath him, reminding himself to savor the moment instead of rushing it. His fingertips graze down your sides until they reach between your thighs, and he marvels at the way his touch makes you shiver. His eyes are so wide with amazement at the sight of you that he probably looks like he’s never seen a woman before, but he can’t help himself—he always thought you were beautiful, but this is something else entirely. 

His first touch is hesitant, a slow upward motion of his thumb between your folds as if quite literally testing the waters. But it has you arching your back and gripping his bicep, meeting his eyes to silently plead for more. Sunghoon takes that as his green light, thumb circling your clit as his lips continue their work on your neck, on your face, everywhere they can reach. He slips a finger inside of you, then a second one, and when he is satisfied with the state he’s gotten you in, all disheveled and gasping for air, he replaces his fingers with his dick, rock-hard just from seeing and hearing you.

He slowly inches forward until he’s bottomed out, letting you adjust around him. “All good?” he whispers, lips moving against the shell of your ear.

“Never better,” you whisper back, smiling. You kiss him, and the tenderness of your lips on his, mixed with the feeling of being inside you, has Sunghoon’s heart constricting inside his chest. He starts rocking his hips back-and-forth into you, the side of his face is pressed up against yours, head light from the little oxygen the two of you share. It all feels oddly intimate for a first time, feels more like the kind of sex two people would have after years of knowing each other’s bodies. He moves like it’s second nature, thrusts deep and slow, trying to reach those spots that have your hands clawing at his back. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, using his free hand to push the hair that sticks to your face with sweat.

You wrap your legs higher around his hips, the shift in angle letting him go deeper. “Fuck, right there,” you say, voice strangled. Sunghoon doesn’t need to be told twice—he picks up his pace, and already within a minute, starts to feel himself reaching his limit. He tries to muffle his groans against your skin, but with the way your hold on him tightens and your moans go higher in pitch, you seem to be just as close as he is. When you do come undone around him, breath hitching in your throat before you release a heavy sigh, he has mere seconds left in him. A few thrusts later, his orgasm finally releases him from the tension that had been twisting his stomach into a knot for the past half-hour. You’re both spent, but he continues lazily rocking his hips against yours chasing the last remnants of pleasure, wanting to bask in it just a bit longer. He rolls onto his back after sliding out, wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face in the crook of his neck.

His chest rises and falls as his breathing takes its time returning to normal. In a way, he’s almost relieved it’s over, like any longer would’ve actually taken too much of a toll on him. He likes the comfort he gets from having you in his arms as much as the sex itself. “I didn’t know it could feel this good,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth before he can stop them. He needs more than a few minutes to get his head back on straight and start thinking before he speaks again. You chuckle airily, he chuckles too, and within seconds, you’re both laughing for seemingly no reason. The bliss of such an intense orgasm and the lack of oxygen must have gone to your brain, too.

“Me either,” you say once the laughter dies down. When your lips find his once more, Sunghoon forgets entirely about his exhaustion and feels like he could go for a second round. “Shower?” you ask right when he realizes how sticky and smelly he is.

“Yes, please.”

He can’t keep his hands off of you in the shower, rubbing soap on every square inch of your skin when you could do it perfectly fine yourself, kissing you even when you’ve both got foaming cleanser on your faces. The taste of soap in his mouth is worth the giggles he gets out of you.

Sunghoon reaches heaven when you drop to your knees in front of him, water rushing down his back as you take him in your mouth. He’s eager to return the favor, of course, thumb flicking your clit with a speed and dexterity even he didn’t know he was capable of. If you weren’t already in the shower, you’d have needed another one.

As soon as your bodies hit the mattress, you both drift off to sleep, limbs wrapping around each other as though they had been separated for too long and finally found each other again—not to let go again.

--

When Sunghoon wakes up, it takes him a few seconds to realize that he hadn’t dreamt up last night’s events. He reaches a hand out hesitantly, still half-asleep and scared that you’ll disappear into thin air at the touch of his fingertips. But no—he feels your skin, warm and soft, and he knows this is real.

You’re laying on your side, facing away from him, so he has to strain his neck to peek at your face. You look so peaceful as you sleep—he doesn’t want to wake you up, but he can’t stop himself from wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing his torso against your back, humming contentedly to himself. He presses a soft, quiet kiss to the top of your head, just because he can.

Outside, clouds part, and a bright ray of sun shines through the window, landing right on your face. Sunghoon watches as you grumble and turn around, burying your face in his chest to avoid the blinding light, but the damage is done—you’re awake. He can tell from the drawled-out whine you let out and the way you grab tightly onto his waist, as if it was his fault the sun had decided to shine right on you. 

He lets you settle in a comfortable position. Stays still as you hike your leg over his legs, then slip it between them instead; as you press your cheek against his chest, then bury your nose in his neck; as you wrap your arm around his waist, then move it to thread your fingers through his hair, until you give up on falling back asleep altogether. “It’s so bright in here,” you mumble in lieu of a good-morning greeting.

You can’t see him, so Sunghoon smiles and tightens his grip around you—one arm circling your shoulders, the other, your waist. Skin to skin. “We forgot to close the blinds yesterday.”

“It’s okay,” you say, sighing. You press a kiss to the base of his neck, right between his collarbones, then lift your face to look at him. “How are you feeling?”

This is what it feels like to wake up next to her, Sunghoon thinks. He’d thought about it so many times: what you would look like first thing in the morning, what you’d say to him, what it’d feel like when your eyes met. If you’d be a slow sort of morning person, cuddling in bed with him until the very last possible second, or if you’d be up and about as soon as you woke up. If you’d be grumpy. If you’d want coffee. If you liked morning sex. 

It seems to be a recurring theme that Sunghoon’s imagination never quite lives up to reality. Your sleepy eyes boring into his, struggling to stay open, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck; your skin, so warm and so soft, your scent, so intoxicating he can barely think straight.

You’re better than a dream.

“I feel great. Do you feel great?”

“I feel amazing, thank you so much for asking,” you say, burrowing yourself impossibly closer to him.

The two of you stay like this for a while, talking about your plans for the day and begrudging how little you want to go about them. Sunghoon wishes this could go on forever, but then his stomach growls so loudly, his face turns red from embarrassment. He hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was. 

“You’re me,” you say, laughing, and Sunghoon can’t help but join in. “Is it crazy to have last night’s leftovers for breakfast?”

What Sunghoon hears is that you want him to stay; that you don’t want to part ways just yet.

“If by crazy you mean the best idea ever, then yes.”

“Amazing, because I’ve been thinking about that curry all night.”

“Really? I was thinking about something else,” he says, burrowing his face in your neck and leaving warm kisses there. 

You hum and lean into his touches, leaning into his touches. Chills run down his spine as your nails graze his sides. “There might’ve been other things occupying my mind, too.”

And just like that, breakfast is postponed to thirty minutes later.

--

After that night, Sunghoon forgets how to act right.

His mind has never been so singularly taken up by sex in all of his life. It was already preoccupied with you most of the time, but now that it has more material to gnaw on, it’s practically started to eat away at him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen each other every day since, or that at every chance you get, you smile knowingly at him or try to get him to play footsies with you. Of course, he loves every bit of attention that he gets from you, but whenever he feels his heart get carried away, Minjeong’s words come back to him in a panic, and he remembers that he has no idea what it is that’s happening between you and him. You could be stringing him along, for all he knows, or you could be as into him as he is into you and just letting things happen. Unfortunately, just letting things happen was not something Sunghoon was good at—if things weren’t written black and white, he’d find a way to overthink even the littlest of details. Like how you’d kissed him for a good five minutes before letting him leave your apartment, otherwise known as the least platonic parting to exist, or conversely, like how you’d sometimes take hours to reply to texts.

If he was already a mumbling fool in front of you before, his condition has only worsened now. He tries his best to be normal and not make you or anyone in the group feel weird, but the fact is that you rocked his world and now he can’t look you in the eyes and not remember how it felt when you touched him or the sounds you made or the way you looked. It’s all playing in a loop in his mind and the only way he knows how to control it is by limiting his interactions with you, which doesn’t even work that well. 

The first couple days, you seem amused by his shyer-than-usual demeanor, but you quickly grow confused more than anything. Sunghoon won’t sit next to you, only speaks to you when necessary, doesn’t seek you out outside of a group setting. He tells himself he just needs some more time to be able to be around you casually again, but before that happens, one day at the library, you make a point to ask him if he’ll come help you get drinks for everyone from the dispenser machine. He knows it’d be too odd to say no, so he follows you.

He presses the buttons for everyone’s order (a Sprite for him, Diet Cokes for the girls, a Red Bull for Jake who has a midterm tomorrow and nothing for Jay who only swears by his disgusting herbal infusion) as you lean against the machine, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at him.

He has never felt so awkward in his life.

“So…” he starts although he has no idea what to say—he hopes something will just appear in his mind and that it’ll alleviate the tension. However, you seem to have other plans.

“What the hell, Sunghoon?” you say, taking him aback. When he glances at you, you don’t seem angry—just genuinely confused. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

“I haven’t!”

“Sunghoon,” you say sternly. He gives in right away.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I just-I didn’t know what to do. After we, you know…”

“After we had sex?” you say, then burst into laughter when he looks around the room to make sure no one’s heard. His cheeks heat up.

“Yes, after we had sex,” he whispers.

He pays for the drinks and picks them up. When he looks at you again, your smile has completely died down, and worry has settled into your features. “Do you regret it?” you ask, voice now as low as his. As if it hurts to say the words too loud.

Panic overcomes him, and he almost drops half of the drinks as he shakes his head. “No, of course not! I’m really sorry, Y/N, I never meant to be weird about it, I was just trying to wrap my head around everything, and I just… Well, I just didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry.”

You nod, taking his words in. “That’s fine. I get it. I just wanted to say, you know, it doesn’t have to change anything. We can still be friends and all. Like you said, it shouldn’t make things weird.”

Sunghoon’s stomach drops. He knows you’re trying to make him feel better, but you’ve inadvertently said the exact opposite of what he wanted to hear. He doesn’t want things to stay the same, or for you to stay friends. For him, things can’t go back to normal after that night — whatever normal means for the two of you — and he was foolishly hoping that you felt the same.

But clearly, you want to let the whole thing die and pretend like it never happened. And whether it’s a good thing or not, his feelings for you have grown so much, he’ll just let you lead him anywhere. Even if that turns out to be nowhere. 

So he conjures up the most convincing smile he can, hands you half of the drinks to carry, and says, “Yeah, sounds good.”

--

After that conversation, Sunghoon doesn’t think anything else will happen between the two of you. You had sex, you talked it out, and that’s the end of it. But then, it turns out that both of your last midterms are at the same time, in the same building, so you invite him to celebrate with pork belly and some drinks. Sunghoon is finishing his second beer when he starts to feel like he’s on that date again, laughing for no reason, butterflies in his stomach every time his gaze catches yours. You lean on your hand as you listen to him talk about a stupid memory from his childhood and he thinks he’s never seen anyone as pretty as you. 

The sun has long set when you say, “You know, it’s Wednesday today.”

He’s not sure what you’re trying to get at. “Yeah?”

“Minjeong’s out at karaoke tonight.”

With these simple words, all the images of you that Sunghoon had finally managed to banish from his mind come flooding back, and he is not even surprised to find himself half-naked in your bed thirty minutes later. So much for staying friends—one time is one thing, but Sunghoon knows he’ll never be normal again after a second time with you.

It’s not a long time before he finds himself in your room again. Every item of clothing between the two of you is gradually discarded while you kiss, lips growing more impatient with every inch of bare skin uncovered. He reluctantly lets you go when you suddenly giggle and say that you really need to pee, watching as you grab his t-shirt off the floor and put it on, just in case Minjeong comes home. You wear it like it’s yours, like it’s the most natural thing in the world that you’d be wearing his clothes. An indescribable feeling washes over Sunghoon at the sight, so intense he feels tears welling behind his eyes. Like something he’s been yearning for is finally at the grasp of his fingers; like it might slip away at any moment. 

His feelings must’ve transpired in the way he was looking at you—when you meet his eyes, your expression shifts slightly, and you quickly slip out of your room. He tells himself to reel it in. Get it together, he thinks. Or you’ll drive her away. 

A wave of tiredness hits him in the minute that you’re gone, probably due to all that soju and beer. “I’m back,” you whisper, but he doesn’t move, only opens his arms wide for you to get back into bed with him. It’s like a weight is lifted off his heart when he feels you against him again. You’re back. Your face is fresh, as if you’d splashed it with cold water, but when he slips one of his hands underneath your (his) t-shirt, your skin is still just as warm as before. Far from the fuzzy, tingly feeling he had gotten when you’d woken up together the other morning, now, he feels his desire for you deep in the pit of his stomach. The kind of hunger food couldn’t satisfy. “I missed you,” he whispers, voice low and gravelly. He reacts immediately when you squirm against him, tightening his grip around your waist and pulling you to him.

“I was gone two minutes.”

“I mean these past few days. I was starting to think I’d dreamt you up.” His hand on your lower back sneaks its way up between your bodies until it finds your breasts, cupping one of them with his palm before taking your nipple between his thumb and index, gently twisting. It pulls a half-gasp, half-moan from your throat, and the sound goes straight to his dick. “But you’re real, aren’t you?” 

“Very real,” you reply, a tremor in your voice. He’s barely touching you, and you’re already having trouble breathing. Sunghoon smiles at the idea of him having as much of a hold on you as you do on him.

“Good,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. In one quick sweep, he pushes you down so your back is against the mattress, resting his palms on each side of your head.

He’s inside you within mere minutes. He’d wanted to hold back a bit, but you whispering Just put it in after thirty seconds of his fingers loosening you up was enough to convince him. His mind is already fuzzy with remnants of alcohol, and his overwhelming desire for you only makes matters worse. He barely has any control over his movements, rushed and sloppy, but as he drives himself deeper into you, your moans increase in volume. He only later realizes how tight his grip on your hips is when he sees two small bruises forming on the skin there. 

He comes quickly, probably embarrassingly so, but he can’t bring himself to care—he’s got other things on his mind. He’s not even bothered to discard the condom as he makes his way down your body, lips around your clit before you’ve even had the time to register what was happening. You cry out, a sound that Sunghoon works to pry out of you over and over again. Even when your thighs start shaking and you squirm away from him, he doesn’t relent. He’s just as desperate to make you feel good as he was desperate chasing his own pleasure earlier. He hooks his arms around your thighs, bringing you down to him and ensuring that you can’t get away. One hand still in his hair, the other clutching the bed sheets, you’ve turned your face sideways into the pillow so that your moans come out muffled. He is only satisfied when you’ve reached your second orgasm. 

As your breath slowly returns to normal, Sunghoon makes his way back up your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. You clear your throat of its dryness and burst into soft, quiet laughter. “What’s funny?” Sunghoon murmurs, lips against your neck. 

“Nothing,” you say, still laughing. “That was just really, really nice.”

Sunghoon smiles. “I’m glad,” he says before kissing you, lips moving slowly against yours.

As he lays against you, the top of his head under your chin and your fingernails grazing along his back, a weird feeling overcomes him. Sunghoon is usually a pine-from-afar sort of guy, with at least five instances of hanging out that could or could not be a date before making things any sort of official. The pining has been a constant with all of his crushes. He’s gotten to the hanging out stage a couple of times, but the officialising has only happened once. Despite its low success rate, it’s a cycle Sunghoon feels comfortable with, and he’d imagined the rest of his romantic encounters would follow that pattern. 

But this is completely different. Of the three times you guys have met separately from your friend group, already two times have included sex. This isn’t a stage Sunghoon usually reaches before at least a few months and it disorientates him. What does it mean? That you like him so much, you decided to skip all of the steps and jump straight into the thick of it? He is reasonable enough not to delude himself into such a thought. He likes you a lot—that much he can be sure of. He’s liked you since the moment he laid eyes on you, even if the reason eludes him. Something in the way you smiled at him, the way you took him in stride as if you’d known him forever. When he thinks back to that party, he can’t believe it started out as the two of you being strangers. Even now, feeling your warm skin against his, it feels like a lie that just two months ago he hadn’t even met you. 

What he can’t say with total certainty is that you like him the same amount. Or that you like him any amount, really, although in his naivety he doesn’t understand how anyone could be this intimate with another person without liking them at least a little bit. And he doesn’t just mean the sex. He means this. The silently laying in each other’s arms, the soft kisses, the caresses wherever hands can reach. Eating post-sex snacks together, laughing as you watch the first episode of each other’s favorite sitcoms (Brooklyn Nine-Nine for him, Pen15, oddly enough, for you). Falling asleep together, cuddling the entire night then waking up and diving right back into each other’s embrace. 

After an entire day spent in rumination, Sunghoon’s still not sure what to make of it all.

All he knows is that when he DMs you that night, asking you how your day went, he goes through every emotion between anxiety, self-hatred and indifference in the five minutes that separate his text from your reply. He’s never been so happy to hear that someone couldn’t concentrate in class because of him.

--

Sunghoon has always been obsessed with the way couples stand together in public. 

Every time, it takes everything in him not to stare, because he wants to take in every little thing they do. He has that practically everywhere he goes, wanting to stare at people just to see what their deal is, but he is never quite as simultaneously fascinated and envious as when he spots a couple. But he knows staring isn’t the socially appropriate thing to do, so he either steals glances or watches for a little bit then pretends they aren’t there. He can’t help himself—even if they aren’t holding hands or obnoxiously making out in public, it’s still visible to anyone with eyes that there is something tying these people together. It’s in the way they stand near each other, their bodies turned inwardly, as though enveloped by a bubble containing just the two of them and no one else; in the way they look at each other, their eyes never straying from the other’s face as they talk, intimacy showing itself even in a loud, crowded room. Sunghoon craves to find that proximity, to be able to touch and be touched so softly, every graze of a hand purposeful and unconscious at the same time.

It’s the first of November already. The Weather app, as it tends to do, has deceived you; so instead of a walk on what was supposed to be a sunny day, you find yourselves in a busy café near the University, the air outside too chilly even with your scarves and gloves. You’re waiting for your order at the end of the counter — a mocha for him, an oat flat white for you — when he notices it. Your body is fully facing him, you’re distractedly playing with the hem of his sweatshirt, and you’re not looking at anything but him as you rant about that annoying classmate of yours that goes by a self-made nickname and always talks over the tutor. In this light, the two of you are like the couples he’s always longed to be—the simple thought makes him want to cry. As more and more often is the case these days, you have no idea what you’re doing to him.

It’s been around two months since you first met and in that time, although Sunghoon is lucky not to have enough fingers to count the number of times you have seen each other one-on-one, not much has happened. Minjeong, who had understood what was going on the first time she saw the two of you eating leftovers from the Japanese restaurant on the couch at 10 a.m., has grown accustomed to his presence in the apartment and even sometimes sits down to watch a movie with the two of you—a movie that Chaewon would usually have forced you to watch in the living room instead of the privacy of your bedroom, so that everyone could join. Sunghoon is just glad Minjeong has stopped silently scolding him with her eyes every time he comes out of your room. She never mentions that night when she essentially warned him against you after the party. 

Jake seems to be the only oblivious one in your group. Yunjin and Chaewon have eyes like hawks and horrifyingly vivid imaginations when they put their heads together, so they were probably already making plans for your wedding and fighting for the title of godmother when you and Sunghoon met at the beginning-of-semester party. They cornered him once at a party and forced him to spill the beans and spare no detail, because you apparently were “denying everything, but we know there’s something going on.” Jay is still Sunghoon’s go-to person when he needs advice concerning you, although the older boy doesn’t understand why it has to be so complicated and always tells him to “just tell her how you feel,” which Sunghoon will not do unless there is a gun to his head. But Jake just seems happy to see his friend and his sister get along this well—no matter how many times you wear his jacket at their games or disappear at the same time at the end of parties, he doesn’t grow suspicious. If he does, he doesn’t mention it to Sunghoon, at least.

Between the two of you, not a word is spoken about the nature of your relationship, which remains unbearingly undefined. For a while, he weakly convinces himself that he doesn’t need to have that conversation with you. He’s young, he’s free, he should be able to enjoy casual sex without putting a label on it. The main problem, though, was that the sex could not be further from casual, at the very least not to Sunghoon.

He has never known anything quite like it. In mere weeks, you’ve both mastered the art of pleasuring each other. He understands your body like it’s his, knows what each of the sounds and expressions you make means. He knows where to touch you to have a kiss go from light-hearted to dizzyingly intense, how to move his mouth to have you arching your back and holding onto him for dear life. And you—he thinks your skin must be laced with cocaine, the way he can never get enough of it. 

But it’s always the moments afterwards that get him in his head. To him, casual sex means getting dressed the minute it’s over and going off to do other things, which is the absolute opposite of what you do. Whether it’s falling asleep together or spending Sundays in bed, you always stay together afterwards, curled up in each other’s arms as you talk away the hours, conversations interspersed with slow, lazy kisses. He’ll say things like, “You’re so pretty,” or “Why do you smell so good?” because he’s so smitten with you that he can never stop himself from uttering every compliment that flashes through his brain, but the things he really wants to say are harder to speak out loud. Even just a What are we?—three simple words that he can’t bring himself to ask, too scared it’ll ruin everything. 

Arguably worse is that sex isn’t even a requirement for when you and Sunghoon see each other. He goes on walks with you whenever you’ve spent too much time in the library and need some fresh air. You go shopping with him when his department throws a fundraiser and he needs a formal outfit. He cooks you your favorite meal when your period is particularly nasty. You sneak into the ice rink after his practice and let him ‘teach’ you how to skate, even though you already learned how with Jake when you were kids. Even mundane moments become fun when spent with you, and you share so many hobbies and interests that you never run out of things to do or talk about.

And yet, it feels like one step forward, two steps back with you—if you let him close one night, you’ll run away the next. A week will pass without you seeing each other outside of the library or group hang-outs, and if Sunghoon asks you out, you’ll say no, usually blaming the amount of work you have. He gets it—due to the nature of your degree and your being a fourth-year student, your workload is much heavier than his, with essays, translations and oral presentations due every other week. And that’s not even including midterms and finals. But still, he doesn’t see why you would need to stay at the library for ten hours straight for days on end. He’d start worrying about your health if you didn’t at least relax on weekends. 

So while Sunghoon wants nothing more than to go all in with you, he senses you holding back. He notices you avoiding eye contact during particularly intimate moments, and when you look at him perhaps too fondly for your liking, you quickly catch yourself and resume your neutral, sometimes almost cold expression. When he tries to broach more personal, sensitive topics, you always find a way to change the subject or turn the conversation towards him before you get too deep. 

As time passes, and especially as exam season nears, he can tell there’s something that you’re not telling him about. His suspicions are confirmed when you come back from a weekend at your parents’ house. He’s also been away for an out-of-town hockey game, and because he hasn’t had much time to text you (and because their team won, so he wants to show off a little), he’s particularly looking forward to seeing you again that Monday. It’s only been three days since you’ve last seen each other, but he misses you like crazy. 

But the minute you’re back, you bury yourself in work like never before, often waking up at ungodly hours and staying at the library until midnight. More than once, he stays behind with you, long after the others have gone, reminding you gently every hour that it might be time to go home and get some rest. The moments you actually agree are few and far between, and although he sticks it out at first, sleeping with his head on the table until you tell him you’re ready to go, your stubbornness soon starts frustrating him, and he ends up leaving when he gets too tired. He knows this is important to you, but he doesn’t understand why you have to go to these lengths—you’d still easily be one of the best students in your class without all this exertion. And despite his many attempts, you won’t tell him what’s wrong, won’t even admit that something is wrong—you keep repeating that “it’s just what exam season is like.”

When he asks your friends about it, they seem just as confused as he is. One evening when you have plans to order some food and watch a movie at your apartment, he shows up at the agreed time, but you’re nowhere to be found. Thankfully, the girls are there to let him up and not leave him standing outside in the rain. You don’t pick up when he calls you and call him back a minute later, apologizing profusely but still saying that there’s something you really need to finish first. If it was only a one-time thing, it wouldn’t make him as angry as it does—but this has been going on for almost two weeks now, and Sunghoon is close to boiling point. 

The fact that it’s been months since your date at the Japanese restaurant, and the only thing that you’ve said about what was happening between you and Sunghoon “didn’t have to change anything.” The fact that you’re essentially each other’s boyfriend and girlfriend without the label or the reassurance that comes with it. The fact that there’s something clearly bothering you but that you won’t tell him about it. The fact that this something is effectively coming between the two of you. Sunghoon was originally more worried about you than anything—now that studying has taken obvious precedence over him in your list of priorities, he’d be lying if he said his ego wasn’t wounded. He isn’t asking to be the number one most important thing in your life, and he knew before even meeting you that high academic performance meant a lot to you, but he likes to think he deserves at least a little bit of your time and attention. 

Except, does he really? It’s not like you’re actually dating.

There’s a pang in his heart as he remembers this fact that he should never have forgotten in the first place. It hurts—and so perhaps, he’s less patient than he ought to be.

“Whatever, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, just let me know when you have time for something other than getting As.”

He hangs up and meets your flatmates’ worried eyes. 

“She still at the library?” Chaewon asks, tone delicate as if trying not to scare off a wounded animal. Sunghoon nods, a deep sigh escaping his mouth. 

“She always studies a lot,” Minjeong starts, “but this is something else.”

“Have you guys tried saying something?”

The girls nod. “Even Jake has talked to her, but she won’t listen. And he usually always gets to her,” Minjeong says. 

He goes home soon afterwards and spends the rest of his evening in rumination, torn between his worry and his anger towards you—emotions which only increase as more days pass, and he sees less and less of you. Your behavior was already concerning while preparing for your exams and final assignments, it gets even worse when exams actually do start. He doesn’t hear from you for an entire week, and the one time you miraculously agree to a short group hang-out in the form of getting coffee, you’re only half there, physically present but mind far, far away. You barely react when the guys tell you about their victory at the latest hockey game—which you didn’t attend, as well as any other game recently. 

No matter how much he tries to put it out of his mind, to focus on his own exams and hockey games, you stay at the forefront of his thoughts. The hockey team is away for another out-of-town game when he decides to broach the subject with Jake, with whom he’s sharing a room. The entire semester, he’s been careful not to raise Jake’s suspicions about the two of you, both out of consideration for you, who’d mentioned you didn’t want your brother to know what was going on, and for himself, who would also rather Jake not know, at least not until your relationship became official. Which it never did. But now that all he gets from you is radio silence at a time when you’d usually be an hour into a FaceTime call, he can’t help himself.

Jake is just coming out of the bathroom, drying his hair with a towel, when Sunghoon takes his shot in the dark. “Have you heard from Y/N recently?” he asks as nonchalantly as he can, pretending to not be avidly waiting for his friend’s reaction by keeping his eyes on his phone.

“Y/N?” Jake echoes. “No, not really. Why?”

“Just ‘cause I haven’t seen her around much. I’m wondering if everything’s okay.”

“You mean her staying at the library all day?” Sunghoon nods; Jake sighs. “Yeah, she’ll snap out of it soon enough. She gets somewhat like this every time exams come around, but even I have to admit it’s pretty tough this time around. The last time I saw her like this was way back in high school, and that’s because our parents were watching right over her shoulder. It’s been better in university thanks to the distance.”

“So this has to do with your parents?”

“Oh, one hundred percent. She’s always wanted to do well at school, but she only gets this obsessive when our parents are involved.”

“I guess this did start after that weekend when she went home…” Sunghoon muses absent-mindedly. It could’ve passed off as an off-hand remark, but Jake pauses in his movements and looks at him warily.

“Yeah, she did… You noticed that, huh?”

Sunghoon pauses. This whole time, he was sure Jake was oblivious to anything happening between you and him—but he might have underestimated his friend. Like brother, like sister; he can hardly read either of you when he really needs to. Jake might genuinely be surprised that Sunghoon remembered your whereabouts that weekend, or he’s onto him. “I guess I did,” he finally says, going for as noncommittal an answer as he can.

Jake says nothing for a bit, and Sunghoon thinks he’s managed to get through the conversation without raising too much suspicion—until a minute later, when Jake speaks again. “Do you… like Y/N?”

Sunghoon freezes, snapping his head towards Jake, who’s lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. His first instinct is to deny, but there’s no point pretending anymore. It’s one thing keeping it from Jake—lying to him about it is something else entirely. It’s an uncomfortable conversation, but it must be had. “Yeah, I do,” Sunghoon replies, guilt clear in his voice, more because he’s only now admitting it to Jake than because of his feelings themselves.

A shaky breath comes out of Jake’s mouth, as if this was the exact answer he had dreaded. “Right, okay. Since when?”

“Since I met her, basically.”

Jake’s head whips towards Sunghoon, and their gazes meet awkwardly. “Since that party in September?” he asks, shock written all over his face. Sunghoon nods, and to his surprise, Jake bursts out laughing. “Don’t tell me it’s because you accidentally matched costumes?”

Sunghoon looks away, frowning. “That might’ve helped things along,” he mumbles, embarrassment washing over him as Jake’s laughter intensifies. At least he was taking it well—a bit too well, perhaps.

“You’re so predictable, man,” Jake says when he’s calmed down, wiping a tear from his eye. 

“How did you know, anyway?”

“You’ve been pretty obvious with it recently,” Jake replies after a few seconds. “I could tell you were a bit shy around her at first, and when it got better I just thought you’d become friends or something. But when she showed up with your jacket at every game and you never left her side at parties, I assumed something else was going on. You’ve always been staying behind at the library these days, and I know you don’t have that much work.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “I guess I haven’t been trying hard to hide it lately.”

“Yeah, why would you hide it in the first place? You could’ve just told me.”

“I didn’t want to make things weird.”

Jake frowns. “It wouldn’t have been weird. If anything, hiding it makes it weirder.”

“I just thought, if one of my friends had a crush on my sister, I’d probably rather they hid it. Like, I don’t need to know about that,” Sunghoon says, and it makes Jake laugh.

“Dude, Y/N and I are only a year apart. Do you know how many guys have come up to me asking me for her number or advice on how to ask her out? It’s been, like, one every few months since middle school. Guys here especially have no shame telling me how hot they find her.”

Sunghoon makes a face. He doesn’t disagree, but he’d never go out of his way to tell your brother how exquisite you looked in certain outfits. “That’s gross.”

“Yeah, it is. But you’re my friend, not some greasy rando, so I trust you. If anything, I’d probably have to tell her to be nice to you, and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, you could say that again,” Sunghoon grumbles, then realizes his mistake immediately, eyes widening.

“What do you mean?” Jake asks, sounding genuine at first, but when Sunghoon stays quiet for a couple seconds, debating whether he should just lay the truth bare, Jake sits up on the bed and repeats his question, his tone much warier this time around. Sunghoon glances at him then looks away guiltily.

“Well, to be completely honest… We’ve sort of been seeing each other, kind of. But it’s complicated.”

Jake flops back down on his mattress with a grunt. “Who else knows?” he asks, rubbing at his eyes with his hands as if suddenly very exhausted.

“Everyone…”

“Everyone?!”

“Well, Jay, Minjeong, Yunjin and Chaewon.”

“So everyone.”

“Basically, yeah.”

“Great.” Jake sighs. “Since when?”

“Since October,” Sunghoon mumbles, feeling guiltier than ever. He’s belatedly realizing that it would’ve been much easier to have everything out in the open from the get-go, both with you and with Jake; now he’s both stuck in situationship limbo and has to face the consequences of keeping something this important from one of his closest friends. “Are you upset?” Sunghoon asks, feeling a bit like a ten-year-old.

“Kinda, yeah, but more at her than at you. I’ve told her not to go after anyone from the hockey team.”

“‘Cause of Heeseung?”

“Yeah. God, that was messy. He gave her mixed signals for so long, I could barely talk to him without thinking of her crying for so long. And now he’s the one who can’t quite look me in the eye,” Jake says, shaking his head at the mere thought of his captain.

“Was it that bad? She made it seem like it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Jake raises his eyebrows. “Really? It upset her for a while though,” he says, then turns his head to look at the ceiling again. “I guess that’s not so surprising of her. She sometimes likes pretending she doesn’t have any emotions, even though I’m pretty sure she has more than most people.”

“Huh.” That would explain some things, Sunghoon muses. Emotions are not a topic that comes up very often with you, and every time he’s gotten an inkling of them, you seem to shut it all down immediately.

“But you know, I’m more surprised than anything. About… about it all, really. Not just that you’re only telling me now, but that it’s lasted this long. She must really like you.”

“You think?” Sunghoon says, his face brightening with hope, the words slipping from him before he can stop them once again. He shrinks when Jake laughs at him.

“Look at you. Down bad, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“But yeah, dude. I’ve told you about this. I’ve never seen her in a relationship, ever. Says she doesn’t have the time,” Jake says, air-quoting you. “I’ve only had the displeasure of seeing her go home with one-night-stands. You know that since she started college, she’s had a rule that she’d only see someone three times and that was it?”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, so she wouldn’t catch feelings. I’m telling you, she’s crazy. So you must be special.”

Sunghoon can’t stop the smile from spreading on his lips—special. But it doesn’t make him feel that much better, either. “It’s not like we’re actually dating, so I’m not sure how special I can be…”

Jake’s head turns to look at Sunghoon again, but the younger boy keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling fan above him. “What’s happening between you guys?”

A blush creeps on Sunghoon’s cheeks. “Is this something you really want to talk about?”

“Well, spare me the gruesome details, please,” Jake says, chuckling, “but yeah, I would like to know what’s going on with my best friend and my sister.”

“I’m your best friend?” Sunghoon says, grinning as he meets Jake’s gaze, who rolls his eyes.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fine.” He sighs. “Well, I didn’t think it would happen more than once-”

“What would happen more than once?”

Sunghoon pauses. “Well, you know…” Jake gives him a look as if to say, Well, no, I don’t know, so Sunghoon is forced to go on: “Sleeping together.”

“You guys slept together?!” Jake exclaims, sitting up on his bed once again.

“Yeah, what did you think?”

“I don’t know, just that you were going on dates, hanging out one-on-one, or whatever…”

“Well, we were.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Jake says, waving his hand in front of his face like swatting a fly away. “So, not just once, then?”

“No. And I thought it’d be a one-time thing, ‘cause a few days afterwards she said something about it not having to change our friendship…”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. But then it did. Happen again, I mean. And it’s been happening frequently since. But we’re not… dating dating. We haven’t had that conversation.”

Jake frowns. “Why not?”

Sunghoon releases a shaky breath. Why not, indeed. “‘Cause she hasn’t mentioned it. And I’m too scared to do it.”

“What are you scared of?”

“The typical stuff. What we have now… it’s not what I want, but it’s managed to not disrupt the group, you know. I’m scared that if I tell her how I feel, it’ll make things awkward between the two of us, and between all of us by extension.”

“Well, it might,” Jake says after thinking for a few seconds. “I wish I could tell you with certainty that she’ll like you back, but I honestly can’t. As obvious as you were towards her, she was not giving anything away.” Sunghoon chuckles, more out of self-deprecation than anything. This was not the pep talk he had hoped for. “But, I can tell you that she won’t be the type to make things awkward. You have nothing to risk by telling her, because in the long run, you’ll be better off that way. I know you, Sunghoon. You’ll be miserable if you can’t be fully yourself with someone.”

Decidedly, Sunghoon’s friends had a way of telling him the exact opposite of the things he wanted to hear while being completely right. He wishes things with you could stay the same — minus the overworking yourself and ignoring him in the process — and that he wouldn’t have to do anything that might make them change. But just as Jake said, he’d also reach a point where he couldn’t take it anymore—a point he was already inching closer and closer to with every passing day. He likes you enough to let you not define the relationship, but he likes you too much to let it go on. He likes you too much to not be able to tell you, and show you, and remind you of it every day. He hated having to hold back, and he hated feeling you holding back. He wanted to give you his all and he wanted all of you, too, not just bite-sized portions of you.

“You’re right,” he finally says. “I haven’t been able to talk to her lately, but I’ll have to tell her soon enough. When her exams are over, I guess.”

Jake sighs. “Yeah. I don’t know if there’s any getting through to her right now.”

“She’s blown me off so many times! I don’t know what she’s doing, spending so many hours in that library. I’d go insane.”

“She’s a perfectionist,” Jake says, shaking his head. “I’ve talked to her about it. When it comes to school, she needs everything to be as flawless as can be. She spends hours re-reading and editing her work. It’s not good.”

“Not really, no.”

“But she’s only got a week left. I’ll try to convince her not to go home for too long, and it’ll be better after the holidays. Then we’ll make sure there’s not a repeat of this next exam season.”

He thinks of Christmas break and of not seeing you for two weeks; of next semester and going through all of this with you a second time. The uncertainty, the fooling around behind your friends’ backs — although that might not be needed now that Jake is in on it too — Sunghoon’s not sure if he can go through it all again. “Yeah, we will.”

--

They lose their game the following day. They had an amazing run, either winning or tying every game so far; this loss is not enough to make them drop significantly in the rankings, but it’s enough to demoralize Sunghoon. It couldn’t have come at a worse time—between you and this failed game, his self-esteem is taking a real hit.

He dared hope for some comfort from you once he was back, but in vain. He doesn’t know why he imagined your attitude might’ve changed overnight, and when he texts you asking to hang out, the same old sorry I can’t atm fills his phone screen. And just like that, as strong as his feelings for you have been all this time, so is his resentment—unwarranted, perhaps, but he thinks he deserves better than this, and he’s both angry at you for not giving him anything and at himself for letting it happen.

Now, he’s the one who spends hours working himself to the bone in the ice rink, who’s clearly preoccupied with other things when everyone gets together, and who doesn’t even show up to the party the whole group goes to when you’re all done with exams. The last game before winter break is in two days, and he doesn’t want to waste a day nursing a hangover when he could be practicing.

That night, he thinks everyone is out at some random club downtown, so he does a double-take when it’s past eleven p.m. and you show up at the rink. He’s skating laps, practicing his speed and his goal-shooting, only noticing you when you’re standing in the middle of the rink. He almost skates right into you.

“Y/N?” he asks, not completely sure you’re not just a figment of his imagination. He’s so exhausted, he wouldn’t be surprised if he were dreaming you up.

“Jay texted me.”

“Oh. Why?” He’s out of breath, and the words come out blunter than he intends them to.

“Because it’s almost midnight and you’re still here,” you reply, crossing your arms over your chest. There’s a hint of a smile on your lips, but your eyebrows are furrowed in what looks like worry. It’s the first time Sunghoon’s seeing you concerned over something other than an assignment. 

He shrugs and resumes his laps, slower this time, forcing you to keep turning on your feet. “I’m practicing. There’s a big game coming up.”

“Which is exactly why you should be resting, like everyone else on your team right now.”

He resists rolling his eyes. “Why would I rest when I could be getting better?”

“Because you need rest as much as you need practice. You won’t be any use on the rink if you’re too tired to play properly.”

“And I won’t be any use if I can’t shoot properly, either.”

“Sunghoon, you need a break. You’re clearly exhausted-Will you stop it?” you suddenly snap. “I’m trying to talk to you, and I’m getting dizzy.” 

Your small outburst only has him growing more agitated, and even though he does stop, it’s more so you can see the annoyance on his face than anything. “You know, this is a bit rich coming from you, Y/N.” He knows this is not the right time to bring this up—if he has grievances against you, he shouldn’t be bringing them up when he’s already frustrated. He’s well aware of this, but he can’t help himself.

You scoff. “Excuse me?”

“You’re the one who spends twelve hours a day in the library during exams and does not budge even if I tell you you should go home.”

“That’s different-”

“How is it any different?” he interrupts, voice rising. “You don’t listen to me when you overwork yourself. I don’t see why I should.”

“So you realize that you’re overworking yourself?”

“Of course I do! But I have to.”

“No, you don’t-”

“Y/N, please. I have to win as much as you have to get the top grades. Is it actually necessary? No, but you know how shit it feels not to.”

“And it’s exactly because I know that feeling that I’m telling you to stop. You’re just feeding into it.”

“So are you, staying until 2 a.m. in the library. You’ve never once gone home when I asked you to.”

“Again, that’s different-”

“How?! How is it different? Please enlighten me, ‘cause they’re the exact same thing to me.”

You sigh. A sudden sadness appears on your face. Sunghoon is torn between wanting to see this to its end and taking everything he’s said back. But he keeps quiet, and your eyes, when they meet his again, harden. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Yes.”

As if you couldn’t say your next words while looking at him, you tear your gaze away from his face. “Because I’m actually concerned about you, here. The only reason you want me to stop and go home is so we can fuck.”

Sunghoon is so astounded that all words fail him—he stares at you, mouth wide open like you just shot him. After a few seconds, all he’s able to come up with is an incredulous, “What?” His voice is a mere whisper. 

“You heard me,” you say coldly.

He closes his mouth and swallows. “So… you’re the one who’s worried, and I’m only after sex?”

You glance at him. “Yeah.”

A chuckle escapes Sunghoon’s throat, then another, until laughter spills out of him uncontrollably. He feels like the world is upside down. How could you have lived the same thing and come out of it with such different perspectives? Your account of his intentions with you is so ridiculous and unfathomable to him that he can’t do anything but laugh.

You seem taken aback at first, but your surprise quickly turns into annoyance. “Something funny?”

“Hilarious, actually,” he says, holding his stomach. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. All he finds at the end of his amusement is anger, bright red and hot. It’s not an emotion he feels often, its rarity only serving as an intensifier—he starts making his way out of the rink before it can explode and hit you in its wake. “Well, that’s convinced me to call it a day. So you got what you came for, I guess.”

His fingers tremble as he undoes the laces on his skates and puts his sneakers on again. You stand by the door of the rink, holding onto the frame as you look at him, that same sad look still on your face. “Hoon,” you say, voice weak. What would usually have him melting only has his anger flare harder.

“Don’t. For the first time ever, I actually really don’t want to talk to you right now.” He stands up, gives you one last harsh look, and turns away. He only halts right before exiting the bleacher area, and after a couple seconds of thinking, turns back around. “Oh, but don’t worry, I’ll let you know when I want to fuck again. Since that’s all this is, clearly.”

--

It seemed to you no one thought you were good enough for Sunghoon.

Only Yunjin and Chaewon seemed excited at the prospect of the two of you getting together, or at least getting to know each other, but they were also the type to coo at dogs in the street and tear up at the sight of old people holding hands; Minjeong was apprehensive from the start, and made it clear; Jay was indifferent; Jake was oblivious for a while. Sunghoon was…

What was Sunghoon?

Someone who had come out of nowhere, shaken up your routine and messed with your head. That’s what Sunghoon was. He didn’t seem apologetic in the slightest.

Maybe it was your fault for not opening up to the people closest to you and letting them think you were some kind of no-strings-attached one-night-stands-only emotionless maneater who had been single for as long as they had known her, who would be seen with someone new every few months, and never for long, who, as far as the eye could tell, only used men for sex. Maybe it was their fault for never trying to dig deeper.

No, okay, it was definitely your fault.

Based on your conversations with your friends, they thought Heeseung had broken your heart, and you had never bounced back properly. He’d hurt you so much, you couldn’t fathom a real relationship anymore—you could only be with someone casually. Which wasn’t so far from the truth, but what Heeseung had done was much worse than just breaking your heart. He’d confirmed what you already knew of yourself: you want too much. You want what you can’t have, what you don’t deserve.

From the moment you met Park Sunghoon, you knew you didn’t deserve someone like him. Minjeong seemed to agree, and when she saw you and him together at choir that Saturday in September, three months ago already, she made sure you knew her thoughts on the matter.

“This is so… unlike you,” was the first thing she’d said after she pulled you aside. 

“What is?”

“This,” she repeated, waving her arms around. “Being here. Coming with him.” She pointed at Sunghoon, whose hair was being ruffled by one grandma and his cheek pulled by another. He kept glancing back worriedly at you—you liked him so much already. “See? You’re smiling at him,” she said, making you realize a sappy smile had started growing on your lips at the sight of him. Your face dropped and you scoffed at the disgust in her voice.

“Yeah, some of us like to smile. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Y/N, you know what I’m trying to say.”

“I don’t think I do, actually.”

She sighed. “You don’t do this. You don’t meet a guy and show up to his choir practice the next morning. What’s happening?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Had you known your presence would be questioned like that, you might’ve thought twice about coming. “Can’t a girl enjoy a choir without getting interrogated these days?”

“You’re avoiding my question! Listen, Y/N. Sunghoon is not the kind of guy you usually go for. He’s-Stop. Don’t smile at me like that.”

“If you like Sunghoon, you can just tell me. You know I wouldn’t stoop so low as to go after a guy my best friend likes.”

“So you are going after him?”

“So you do like him?”

Minjeong shook her head violently and put her hands on your shoulders, staring into your brain as if trying to make you see some sense. Calmly, she said, “No, I don’t. Sunghoon’s nice, but he is so far from my type. He’s too… nice.”

“You mean he doesn’t wear leather jackets or ride a motorcycle?”

“That was once. But no, he doesn’t do that. And what I’m trying to tell you is that he’s not your type either.”

“And how have you gathered that?”

“Because so far, you’ve only wisely chosen guys who are as detached and emotionally stunted as you.”

“I’m not-”

“But he’s not like that, Y/N. He’s the bring-home-to-your-parents-for-Christmas type. Not the hump-and-dump type.”

“I’m starting to get offended by this conversation.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t go breaking his heart. Or yours, for that matter. It pains me to say but I care about both of you very much and I don’t see this going anywhere good.”

You shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. Was her opinion of your romantic tendencies — or lack thereof — that bad that she couldn’t even recommend you to her friend? You felt like a chastised child whose mom told you you couldn’t get the toy you wanted. Despite being well aware that you weren’t the most committed when it came to relationships, you still felt like she was going overboard. Just because nothing had stuck so far didn’t mean it wouldn’t now—she was acting like you went around playing with people’s feelings for fun.

“Jesus, this is my second time seeing him. I just wanna see what his deal is. I’m not breaking anyone’s heart, okay?” 

The choir conductor had called out for everyone to gather on stage then, and that was the end of that conversation. You still remember how funny of a thing it was, seeing Sunghoon in his nice shirt and trousers, his hair falling into his eyes, singing diligently with the choir, when just the night before he had been playing beer pong dressed as Cowboy Ken. In this new light, you understood why Minjeong was so adamant about him not being your usual type, and why the grandmas were fussing over him. You hadn’t known what had pushed you to invite yourself to this rehearsal, and even then as you sat there, you weren’t sure what you were doing or why you couldn’t stop smiling as you watched Sunghoon sing. 

Time made things clearer, starting with that afternoon at the beach. The salt in the air that day had clouded your thoughts, covered them with a thin layer so that your usual reluctance to share anything remotely personal had dimmed. Or maybe it had had nothing to do with the air and everything to do with the boy sitting next to you on the sand, the way words came tumbling out of your mouth before you could think about them and were only met with understanding and empathy on his part. For once, you didn’t feel the need to guard yourself, to adapt your words and actions to the person in front of you. It was something you didn’t know was possible with a near stranger—perhaps because Sunghoon felt nothing like one.

He made you feel things you hadn’t felt in a long time; things you had been craving to feel, needed almost as much as oxygen. Being with him felt like breathing again. But you had been underwater so long, being on land again felt foreign, scary, and you couldn’t help but dive back into safe waters, coming up for air once in a while.

Whether he had intended to or not, Sunghoon had started to scratch at your surface, until he’d burrowed a small hole—shallow, but enough for cracks to appear, cracks you were quick to put back together as best as you could.

So when his gaze was too tender, his touches too gentle, you bristled. You went away, because you were afraid of what might happen if you stayed. The more you wanted to give him, the less you gave him anything at all. Your own desire overwhelmed you. His letterman jacket was warm around your shoulders, you proudly walked around with the four letters of his last name on your back, but you couldn’t get out of your mind how cold it would be if it was one day ripped away from you. 

You thought of Heeseung, how disillusioned you had been when you thought you had finally met someone who would love you the way you had always yearned to be, only for him to toss you away when you started asking for too much. You thought of your friends in middle school, how it seemed that no friendship could be more wonderful until you overheard them talking about you at a sleepover, about how clingy you were. You thought of your parents, how they had only bestowed kind words upon you when you performed well in your role of perfect daughter, of academically gifted child. How they hadn’t even glanced at any of the drawings you’d done of the four of you, mother, father, son and daughter holding hands with a bright yellow sun in the corner of the sky. How they had pushed you away from their bed when you seeked some comfort after a terrible nightmare. How they had never bothered to hide their disappointment when you came home from school with anything less than an A. How they had shunned your brother for not going down the path they had envisioned for him, how hard you had to fight to make them accept yours was not a worthless one.

Even your best friend seemed to think you were unable to receive affection of the likes of Sunghoon’s—but what you were afraid of was that he wouldn’t handle the amount of affection you knew you were able to give. In a way, that was what had drawn you to Sunghoon in the first place—from the moment you’d met him, you had been able to tell there was something of you in him. It seemed to you he had a heart that was overflowing with love, love to give, love to spare on whoever would have it. In his words, you were him. Nevertheless, your fear of getting hurt overrode your desire to feel Sunghoon’s love, and you didn’t know whether you would be able to revert to your nature after having spent so much time perfecting your new facade.

You knew what it was like to be cold. And so you prematurely braced yourself for it by pushing away Sunghoon’s warmth. If it was going to happen at some point, like Minjeong had hinted it would, might as well get used to it, right?

Except the cold never came. Sunghoon kept on burning relentlessly, no matter how much wood you fed his fire with—you could cling to him for nights on end or ignore his texts for days, without fail, he’d welcome you with his usual, unwavering warmth. He allowed you to bask in it, to momentarily let down your defenses. But something always happened to make you raise them back up—Minjeong would eye the two of you suspiciously, Heeseung would post on Instagram (Is one of the girls on slide five his new fling? Are they serious and it wasn’t that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, it’s that he didn’t want one with me?), or your mom would text you to ask you whether everything was okay.

Yet increasingly, you suspected there was something behind Sunghoon’s warmth, something you had missed, something that was tricking you. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, yes; in public, a knowing look from you was enough to have his face turn bright red, and in private, one simple touch had his chest heaving, yes; he expressed disappointment every time you turned him down for a hang-out. Your attachment to him grew, and it became harder to put what the two of you had into words.

It wasn’t just sex—it couldn’t be. It ran deeper than that. You knew what relationships that consisted of just sex were like, and this wasn’t that, it was too good, too intimate to be just that. But you weren’t a couple, that much was clear. Only four other people were aware something was even going on, your brother not included, and you acted as regular friends in front of everyone. Jake had insisted you didn’t fool around with another member of his hockey team because his relationship with Heeseung had already deteriorated enough, he didn’t need to be on weird terms with anyone else on your behalf, so you were not keen on letting him know about what you got up to with Sunghoon. Anyway, even if everyone on earth was in on your shenanigans, you and Sunghoon hadn’t convened on what it all meant. Who knew what was going on in his head? You were no stranger to how deceitful men could be when they were after certain bodily pleasures. Unless Sunghoon said it in so many words, multiple times, you would not be a hundred percent sure he wasn’t only looking to get laid, or wanted someone to act like his girlfriend without the label and the obligations that came with it.

Because you basically were acting like his girlfriend, and he like your boyfriend. You always went to each other. Always, only each other. Whether he needed a second opinion on an outfit, you needed a rant session about your dissertation, either of you a really good orgasm, it was each other you went to.

You waited for him to initiate a conversation about the status of your relationship like one waits for church bells to ring at the turn of the hour—you knew it was coming, but the sound might be too much to bear. And the longer you had to wait, the more you dreaded it. Because how would you react when the time came? You didn’t trust yourself not to run away; neither did Minjeong.

The cold hadn’t come yet. You couldn’t let yourself feel the warmth unreservedly. It was all unpleasantly lukewarm.

Then you went home for a weekend.

It was a good friend from school’s birthday, and despite having spent a lot of time with Sunghoon at the expense of studying, you had done well this semester and thought you deserved a break. After having been away for so long, you had started to underestimate the power of your need for your parents’ approval over you. One small instance that your brother and many other people would’ve brushed off easily was enough to set you off—that same cold look of disappointment when you decided to be honest and told them one of your courses was deadly boring all while being unnecessarily complicated and you had received a low B-grade in it. They barely spoke to you for the rest of the evening.

Exams were a mere few weeks away when you got back. You buried yourself in work, forgot everything and everyone else, even Sunghoon, even yourself.

The cold hadn’t come yet, so you sought it out for yourself.

At the same time, you hadn’t indulged in enough introspection to realize how frustrated you had been at Sunghoon for not trying to create defined boundaries around your relationship. You were unable to do it yourself, you unrealistically wanted him to do the work for the both of you, you got upset when he didn’t. What you were able to do was make up reasons why he wasn’t giving you the what are we talk—he doesn’t like you that much, he just wants sex, he’s settling for you until he finds the next best thing, the real thing. This wasn’t leading anywhere, so you cut it off before he could.

You set foot in the library at seven thirty a.m. on a Monday and every following day of that week, then the next, then the next. He managed to pull you out every now and then—you weren’t that strong against his big pleading eyes, his soft messy hair, his warm hands that entirely covered yours. 

Oftentimes, you were too tired at the end of a long library day to have sex. Sunghoon never held it against you—he seemed more than happy to cook you dinner, let you fall asleep halfway during a movie you had chosen, and cuddle all night long. But your body burned with resentment at his mere presence in your bed, in your home, in your text messages. Who was he to stop you from studying, from achieving your goals, to distract you from that top grade just so he could get off? Even your friends and brother weren’t trying so hard to make you take breaks. The worry that furrowed his eyebrows, which you used to want to see fade away with a caress of your thumb, now infuriated you to no end, it seemed — to you — put-on. He kissed your neck and you wanted to push him away instead of melt into him like you had before.

It was his turn to leave for a weekend for an out-of-town hockey game, and you convinced yourself his absence came as a relief. But on the Sunday evening they got back, as you came out of the library, you spotted your brother waiting right outside of the building.

“Why is it so hard to reach you?” he said when he saw you in lieu of a greeting. “What’s the point of having a phone if you don’t even use it? I called you, like, five times.” “It was on airplane mode.” He rolled his eyes so hard, you could almost hear them moving beneath their lids. “What have you done to Sunghoon?” You stopped dead in your tracks. “Sunghoon? What about him?” you asked, chest constricting at the mere thought of him and at the implication that something had happened to him, even if you were the cause. He hadn’t said it in so many words, but it was clear the truth had been revealed to Jake, and for some reason, it didn’t surprise you. You knew they roomed together and assumed Sunghoon must’ve told him. You tried your best to take it in stride. “I thought we said the hockey team was off-limits after Heeseung,” he said sternly. “Also, Sunghoon, of all people?” he adds before you can say anything. “That’s like, my bro. And he’s the nicest guy ever. Not the perfect pick for one of your victims, I must say-” “Oh, please, he’s not a victim. He’s a consenting adult.” “Then why is he so upset over you spending more time studying than with him?” “That’s the male ego for you, Jakey.” Your brother sighed deeply. “He’s really hurt, Y/N. If you were going to reject him, you could’ve done it nicely.”

You frowned. “Who said anything about rejecting him?”

“You’ve shut him out. You’ve shut all of us out.” Jake was staring at you, trying to get you to look at him, but you kept your gaze on the ground and kicked non-existent pebbles around, hands hiding in your coat pockets. “You might not have meant it as one, but he took it as a rejection.”

You scoff. “There was nothing to reject. It’s not like we’re actually together.”

“Yeah, thanks for telling me anything was going on, by the way.”

“It wasn’t any of your business.”

“It is, ‘cause it concerns my sister and my best friend.”

“He’s your best friend?” you echo, a teasing smile on your lips. He rolls his eyes again.

“God, maybe you guys aren’t so bad together after all. But Y/N—I’m serious. You need to do something.”

“Why can’t he?”

“Because you’re the one who’s been fucking around.”

Ouch. “You’ve known about this whole thing for what, two days, and you’re already blaming me for the fact that it’s not going perfectly? How little do you think of me?”

“I don’t think little of you, Y/N, I just know you have a track record of not being serious about relationships.”

Your body tensed up. Maybe it had been a particularly long day. Maybe it had been a long time coming. Tears well up in your eyes—a sight you’ve not let your brother see in many, many years.

“You know what, fuck this, Jake. I’m stressed enough as it is. I’ve done my best with what I have, and you don’t get to pin this on me. As if I was the only person in that relationship. If Sunghoon has a problem, he can take it up with me directly.”

You walked away. Jake called after you once, and when you didn’t come back, caught up with you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t wanna upset you. I just-I hate seeing him hurt, you know? And you too.”

“I’m glad my feelings are of some importance to you.”

“Of course they are,” Jake said, too concerned to detect the sarcasm in your words. “And you’re right, I’ve only heard Sunghoon’s side of the story. But it really sounded like-”

“Listen, Jakey, I really don’t wanna do this right now. Let’s talk about it when exams are over. I can’t have anything else taking up mental space. I mixed up my Greek third declension endings earlier.”

“God forbid.”

After some arguing, Jake let you off the hook—“Just for now,” he said. You’d get him to recount his and Sunghoon’s conversation in excruciating detail later.

You come out of an evening of contemplation resenting Sunghoon for bitching about you to your brother, of all people. As if he had been begging on his hands and knees for your devotion, as if you had been cool-headed and detached and not thinking he’ll ask me to be his girlfriend any second now every time you spent time together. You told yourself you were well and truly done with him for the time being. If there was anything to salvage, that was future you’s problem.

But late on Thursday evening, Jay sent you a voice message, something he only did when he was gravely drunk, shouting over loud chatter and rap music that Sunghoon hadn’t shown up to a party and was apparently still practicing. You’d caught wind of their loss at the game, and even though your heart had swollen with concern for Sunghoon, very well aware of how important winning was to him, you’d managed to squash it down. You had bigger fish to fry, namely, an Italian written exam that made up 75% of your overall grade for that course. But after ten minutes of re-reading the same three lines of an article from Republicca, you couldn’t get the image of Sunghoon skirting endlessly around the ice rink and potentially hurting himself out of your head. You told yourself you only had this one exam left and plenty of time to revise for it, packed up your things and headed for the rink.

It was past eleven p.m. when you got there. The rest is history. 

Your grievances came out in an ugly way, but Sunghoon’s refusal to listen to you got the best of your nerves, and although you really did feel that your worry was more genuine than his, you didn’t truly believe that all he wanted from you was sex—at least, you hoped it wasn’t. It was the first time you ever saw any sort of negative emotion on Sunghoon’s handsome features, be it anger, sadness or pain. It tugged at your heartstrings, made you want to wrap him in your arms and get him away from whatever it was that tugged his eyebrows into a frown—even if that was you.

Now, as if the water has inched up your ankles and frozen over, your feet stay planted on the ice for a while after he’s stormed off. You don’t even realize you’re crying until a hot, salty teardrop falls on your lips.

Your feet regain control of themselves, and they seem to move of their own accord as they guide you right in front of Sunghoon’s dorm room. You’re barely conscious as your knuckles rasp against the door, and the tears that had fallen back behind your eyes spill out once more as soon as your eyes meet his. He’s just come out of the shower, a white towel wrapped around his hips, another one that he uses to dry his hair. His movements stop when he realizes who’s standing at his door, mouth falling slightly agape, chest visibly rising and falling. He’s so beautiful, you feel your heart breaking all over again.

Sobs pour uncharacteristically out of you, so much so that you have to hide your face behind your eyes. He ushers you in, holds you tight as everything flows out, the stress, the resentment, the loneliness, the longing. How could he be so close yet so far away this whole time? Did he want those miles of distance between you, or had you forced them upon him?

Sunghoon smoothes your hair down and shushes you, telling you it’s okay and that he’s here, voice strangled as if he’s on the verge of crying, too. A part of you still feels angry towards him, but the bigger part of you knows only he can give you the comfort you need.

“I missed you,” you say when you’ve calmed down partly. You only realize how true those words are once you’ve spoken them. You’ve missed waking up next to him, watching trashy reality TV together, taking coffee breaks that lasted too long in-between study sessions. You’ve missed the scent of his hair, the scent of his skin, you’ve missed watching the way his back muscles shift at the slightest of movements, feeling the weight of his head as he lay on your chest. All for a bunch of As you would’ve gotten without exerting yourself so much anyway.

“I missed you too, baby. Where did you go?” Just like that, you break down again, and he dissolves into apologies. “You’re here now, it’s all that matters,” he whispers against your hair.

“You didn’t see them, Hoon. You didn’t see the way they looked at me,” you say, struggling to speak, unsure you’re even making any sense but unable to stop. “I got As in everything, I worked so hard. Just one B, one week where I had four things due at the same time. Their faces, Hoon, like they were thinking, what was the point of letting me do this degree if I wasn’t even going to excel in it?”

“But you do excel in it, Y/N. You’re amazing at what you do. And even if you weren’t, you love it, and that’s what matters the most.”

“Not to them, it doesn’t.”

“Then forget them.”

“I can’t, Hoon,” you say, voice trembling. “I just can’t. I need them to be proud of me.”

“Isn’t it enough to be proud of yourself?”

“I wish it was.”

“Does it help if I tell you how proud I am of you and of how hard you’ve worked?”

He doesn’t see it, your face is still hidden in the crook of his shoulder, but a small smile makes its way to your lips. “A bit.”

“Then I’ll tell you everyday until you don’t need their approval anymore. They don’t deserve you, Y/N. They don’t even see what an amazing, beautiful, smart daughter they have. Or her sort-of-okay brother.” You laugh, and so does he. Sunghoon’s words and soothing touch against your back already alleviate the weight on your heart. “But I see it.”

You lift your head to look at Sunghoon. His eyes are glassy. “You see how amazing, beautiful and smart Jake is?”

He laughs again as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah, exactly.” The way he looks at you makes you wish you could go back to the day you met him and right all of your wrongs. No more hiding or running away. You only want to stay under that gaze of his. But sadness soon replaces the joy in his eyes. “You mean so much more to me than you give yourself credit for, Y/N. This has never been just about sex for me. Not even for a second.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what has it been about?” 

He frowns like a student in an advanced math class who’s just been asked what three plus three is—isn’t it obvious?

“I love you.”

Your eyes dart between his as if searching for any trace of deceit there. Of course, you don’t find any—because there hasn’t been any since the start. You’d let your own fears invent things that weren’t there. Your lips tremble and you find yourself bawling on his shoulder once more, your tears like a well that digs deeper and deeper so as to never run out of water.

“I hope these are good tears,” Sunghoon says light-heartedly, but you can detect the nervousness behind his words. You nod your head vigorously, willing yourself to say something back, but your tears overflow, make your breath hitch.

“Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you manage in between sobs.

“I didn’t think it was the kind of thing you wanted to hear,” he explains.

“I was waiting for you to say something.”

“I didn’t know. I thought I was being obvious enough.”

“You probably were. I was the one who couldn’t see it,” you admit.

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

“I thought you didn’t want me like that.”

Sunghoon chuckles, a sound of relief. “I’ve wanted you like that since the start.”

“I think I have too.”

“You think?”

You lift your head again and when your eyes meet Sunghoon’s, it feels like coming out of your hiding place hours after the round of hide-and-seek was over. He hadn’t forgotten to come and find you. He was waiting for you to reveal yourself.

Which goes against the rules of hide-and-seek, but you don’t blame him.

You smile; he smiles, deep dimples carving crescents into his cheeks. “I love you, too.”

You hadn’t realized how cold your hands were until Sunghoon found them.

--

Everything after that was a blurry mess of tangled limbs, warm kisses, happy tears and relieved laughter.

Your touch had always been intoxicating, but Sunghoon was particularly sensitive to it that night. The mix of not having felt you close in weeks and the heightened emotions driven by your confessions made his skin tingle everywhere it came in contact with yours. He’d never slept so little without regretting it in the morning.

It goes without saying that most of the night was not spent talking, but you still had things you needed to discuss. The two of you laid out all of your fears, and Sunghoon was immensely relieved to finally get a glimpse into that mind of yours. He made you promise to always tell him what was going on, and he promised you you’d never be too much for him. Always just right.

Now, he gets to wait outside of your exam hall with your favorite flowers in hand, to put his arm around your shoulders during movie nights instead of holding your hand beneath the blanket, to kiss you over the barrier at the end of a hockey game he won. Heeseung’s narrowed eyes at the sight of the two of you is an added bonus.

You text him that you’ll hang around the locker rooms after the game so that you can head to the party together. The end of December is nearing and you can’t wait for the new year, for twelve whole months of not hiding your feelings for Sunghoon from anyone, not even from yourself, least of all from him. At least, that’s what you told him in a sappy, drunken voice message at two a.m. the previous night when the girls made you drink a bottle of prosecco to yourself—their way of congratulating you for an arduous but successful exam period.

He steps out of the locker rooms with Jake and Jay. You’ve never looked quite as pretty, face lighting up as you spot the three of them, his jersey on your shoulders. You’d worn it during your last exam—“I thought it might bring me luck to wear a pretty boy’s name on my back,” you’d told him, to which he’d replied that it was good practice for when you actually took his last name. You’d looked away, fighting a smile.

Now your smile is full-blown as you look at him, but the downside of being an official couple is that Jake has now more material to tease the both of you with.

“Oh my God, you waited for me, what a sweet sister I have been blessed with!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as he barrels towards you.

“Fuck off, Sim,” you say but accept his hug nonetheless. “Nice game.”

“I know.” He pulls away and ruffles your hair. Jay nods at you like you’re someone he shared a class with back in second year and not his friend of almost three years.

As if on cue, just as Sunghoon reaches you and envelops you in a hug, Jake turns around and yells loud enough for all the players spilling out of the locker rooms, “And don’t forget to wear protection! I’m not ready to be an uncle yet.”

“That’s disgusting, Jakey,” you yell back, and he smiles proudly. Sunghoon had never thought the day would come where you’d initiate a kiss in a room full of people—he’s on cloud nine when you take his head in your hands and press your lips to his, murmuring praises about how well he played.

“It was all for you, baby,” he says, trying to appear cool even though a blush is creeping up his ears. 

“Not for the recruiter of the national team?” you asked with a smirk.

He smiles, shrugging. “Maybe a bit for him too. You’re the one I want to impress.”

“Consider me impressed.” You stand on your tiptoes to kiss him a second time.

You head towards your friends, hands warm against each other.

--

In classic mysterious Jay fashion, he organizes a New Year’s Eve party that he can’t attend himself.

He’s on holiday in some exotic country halfway across the world with his family, but he’s offered up their house for a celebration and tasked Jake with making sure no one trashes anything.

The party started three hours ago, and you’re sure it’s in full swing by now—you’re sure everyone is having a jolly old time, getting drunk enough to welcome the new year with a hangover, searching the crowds of people for the person they’ll want to kiss at midnight. You’re sure that people are having so much fun that whoever notices your and Sunghoon’s absence might think you’re missing out.

And maybe you are—but there’s nowhere you’d rather be than where you are now, straddling your boyfriend’s lap in the backseat of his car. He’s a little bit tipsy, you’re a little bit tipsy, it’s obvious in the way you kiss each other, messy, impatient, interspersed with giggles and with perhaps too much tongue. Your hands are not much more polite, harshly grabbing at his hair just the way you know he likes it, and neither are his, having snuck their way underneath your black satin dress long ago already.

When Sunghoon pulled you away from the party, you’d appropriately exclaimed, “But the party?”, to which he replied, “Fuck the party.” It wasn’t like him to curse, or to have anything but a bashful smile on his lips, like a guilty dog who’d been caught doing something it knew it shouldn’t, even though he was just standing there, so when you see his stoney expression, you think something serious must’ve happened.

The something serious turned out to be “that guy who was touching your shoulder.”

Clearly, it’d take Sunghoon a little bit more time to be entirely secure in your relationship. In the meantime, you didn’t mind letting him fuck his jealousy away.

Although he’d been the one to whisk you away, you’re the one who finds yourself begging for him to speed things up. Your flimsy thong does absolutely nothing, so you’re basically grinding yourself bare against his clothed erection—and it’s not like the fabric of his suit trousers is very thick, either. A girl can only put up with so much dry humping before having her boyfriend’s dick inside of her goes from being a want to a need.

“Need you, Hoon,” you coo against the shell of his ear. A few words usually do the trick, but Sunghoon has other plans tonight.

“What do you need, baby?”

“You.”

“I’m right here,” he says, punctuating his words with a squeeze of your ass.

“You know what I mean,” you say, practically whining.

“I’m not sure I do, actually.”

You pull away and, looking at him directly, say, “God, Sunghoon. I want you to fuck me.” His shit-eating grin simultaneously makes you roll your eyes and goes straight to your core.

“That I can do.”

He keeps one hand on your ass as he loosens his tie first, then undoes his belt and trouser buttons. His slacks and underwear pool around his ankles, and all he needs to do is hike your dress up around your hips and push your thong to the side. You wrap a hand around his dick, but your mind is too hazy to do much with it—he’s started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb, the pressure and speed as perfect as it always is. You let your forehead fall against his shoulders and moan unabashedly, thankful he decided to park the car far enough away from the house.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?”

“I love it, Hoon.”

He hums his approval. “You’re so perfect. So perfect and so wet for me, isn’t that right?”

You start to say “yes,” but you interrupt yourself with a gasp. You hold onto Sunghoon’s arm, feel his muscles move under your palm as he slips two fingers inside of you without warning. “Please,” you choke out, a tight knot already forming in your stomach.

“Please what?”

“Need you. Need your dick, baby.”

He smiles as if endeared, but his words couldn’t be more different. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before going off with some random guy the one minute I was somewhere else.”

“He’s just-fuck, Hoon, he’s just a mutual friend of Jay and I. Fuck, right there, baby.” Forming coherent sentences when Sunghoon’s fingers flick against that perfect spot deep inside you again and again is no easy task, but you need to defend yourself.

“Right there?” he echoes, voice a whisper against your ear. When you nod, eyes shut tight, he slips his fingers out. You look at him, betrayed. “That’s too bad. Why don’t you ask him to touch you right there, hm?”

You don’t know how much of his jealousy is put-on to get you to beg and how much of it is real. You make a mental note to have a conversation with him about this later—right now, you don’t mind playing along if it means your boyfriend will deign to fuck you. You know he wants to, he’s just making you work harder.

You move your hand up and down along his dick, brush his reddening tip with your palm every now and then. “He couldn’t touch me like you, Hoon.” You lean in and trail kisses along his neck, his jawline, his ears. “Can’t fuck me like you, either.”

With exams, hockey matches and any other responsibilities out of the way for winter break, the two of you had had an obscene amount of sex in the past couple of weeks. You’d done other things, of course, namely having much-needed conversations with each other, your friends, your families. Sunghoon’s mother was overjoyed at the news, glad her “duckling had finally met someone” — her words — and his sister kept stealing his phone from him to talk to you when you were on FaceTime. You and Jake had gone home for two days for Christmas, and although Jake had needed to pep talk you into it for over an hour, you managed to tell them that you wouldn’t stand for being belittled for your life choices anymore.

But in-between these conversations, you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You’ve grown more comfortable with each passing day, both of you bolder in vocalizing what you want and how you feel. And so, you quickly found out that your Sunghoon, your shy, sweet Sunghoon, got off like nothing else on salacious words. In line with his possessiveness, he loved hearing about how he and only he could do these things to you; in line with your need for validation, you could practically come from hearing his praises alone.

“That’s right, baby.” Like the gentleman he is, he fishes out the condom wrapper he had gotten ready from his trouser pocket, tears it open with his mouth and rolls the condom on with one hand, his other one still preoccupied with you. “Come here, my love,” he whispers, his sweet tone worlds away from his previous teasing, almost cocky one. He grabs your hips, guides you closer to him and lines your entrance with the tip of his dick. He lets you go at your own pace, rubs your thighs soothingly as you sink down onto him slowly and adjust to his size. You throw your head back, mind hazy with pleasure as you move your hips back-and-forth against him.

“You feel so good, baby. You’re doing so well for me.” His words make you pick up your pace, and you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grabbing at his hair and sides of your faces pressed against each other as you start lifting your hips and sinking back down. Sunghoon’s hands hold your ass tightly, guiding you up and down. It’s hot in the car; sweat runs down your hairline and your back, air is running low, the windows are fogging up, but it only adds to the dizzying bliss growing in you. Even the seatbelt receiver digging into your knee doesn’t bother you.

“Feels so good, Hoon,” you moan.

“I know, baby.”

Your hours of studying everyday means your thighs aren’t the strongest—good thing for you that your boyfriend has enough stamina and strength for the both of you. As soon as he feels you tiring, your rhythm becoming slower and more irregular, he picks up your slack. One hand on your back, one arm around your waist, he presses you close to him, his hold on you so tight you can barely move. He bucks his hips harshly into yours, faster and faster, making you cry out with every brush of his tip against that spot deep inside of you. Your whole body shakes with pleasure as your moans grow higher and louder, until the tension in your stomach hits its apex and unravels. A gasp leaves your throat as you come around him, but he’s unrelenting, the overstimulation quickly making tears form in your eyes. Strings of curses and praises of how perfect you are spill out of Sunghoon’s mouth disorderly as he reaches his own end.

Together, you take your time catching your breath, his fingers roaming your back while you trail soft kisses all over his face and neck. “My pretty baby,” he whispers, and it makes your heart swell with so much affection for him that you press your lips to his, shutting him up in case he says something that actually has you exploding.

You wish you could spend some more time just the two of you before returning to the party, but when you check your phone, it’s already five minutes to midnight—he puts his clothes back on as you fix your hair in a rush, Sunghoon helping you wipe away traces of mascara under your eyes, and together, run back to the living room where everyone has gathered. You find Minjeong, Yunjin, Chaewon and Jake, who has Jay on FaceTime. It’s only five p.m. where he is.

Everyone counts down from ten together. The first thing you do in the new year is kiss Park Sunghoon—and you’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, too.

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