R U Mine?

when the sun melts the ice — park sunghoon.

pairing. figure skater!sunghoon x figure skater f!reader

genre. childhood enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff.

warning(s). cursing, mentions of injuries and blood, both are very mean to each other at first.

summary. you hated park sunghoon, and it wasn't news that he hated you too, both of you were always at each other's necks, for you it all came down to who was better at ice skating and finding the slightest mistake to make fun of each other, but one day an accident and an injury make you change your view of him, proving that he really did have a heart after all.

note. this is my part for @emeraldenha's "unlikely" collab, please leave feedback, it's always appreciated !! teaser here.

wc. 12.6k

"okay, that's all for today guys! don't forget to come early tomorrow, we can't waste time!"

you let out a big sigh the second those words passed through your ears, you were tired, sleepy and the long practice was finally over, today you tried so much harder than usual and you could feel how your legs burned with every movement you made, all you wanted was to be in the comfort of your bed, even if it meant that when you got up your legs would shake.

from being relieved now you wanted to rip your ears off, you could hear how a small group of girls who were next to you didn't stop talking about how "beautiful" the boy who made your days a nightmare was. you just rolled your eyes in disgust, you didn't even know what they saw in him, he was arrogant, selfish, greedy, stupid and above all he had a bad temper, you weren't surprised to know that he had no friends when he treated everyone in an inferior way believing that he was better than the rest, who would want to be close to someone like him?

definitely not you, you couldn't even think of him as someone attractive when his personality already said everything about him as a person and didn't let you see beyond his frown that was furrowed 24 hours a day, the only times you could see him smile was when he beat you in some competition by making fun of you and you just wanted to erase any trace of happiness in him as if he were a picture of a fresh painting. not in a thousand years you could see yourself being friends with him, much less knowing all the things he said and did to you for the last 10 years.

while you were waiting for the rest of your teammates to leave the ice rink, your body almost ended up on the ground, you could feel someone bumping your shoulder sharply, causing you to almost lose your balance.

you turned to see who it was, and sure enough it was park sunghoon.

you cursed under your breath when you saw that arrogant smile of his peek over the edge of his lips, it was as if he had been listening to your thoughts all this time and wanted to take revenge, your friend yuna who was only a few meters from you watching everything could only laugh while covering her mouth. you had forgotten that you always had to be alert when you were around him.

you were about to say something to him but your coach's hand on your shoulder stopped you.

"hey i know you're tired but tomorrow you can stay up late training? i want to focus on you and sunghoon." if just the presence of him already put you in a bad mood, having to spend more time with him only made you want to drop off the earth.

"with sunghoon? is it really necessary?" you wanted him to be joking, you wanted to refuse, no matter what reasons mr. choi had for holding you back to share the same air as him.

"yes, you know that the olympics are close, i want to make sure that their routines are as perfect as possible," you let out another long sigh, turning your gaze towards yuna who was looking at you confused "i know that your relationship is not the best but you don't even have to speak, i will make you work until exhaustion and you know it. i only want the best for both and ensure that you win a medal, do not forget that you will be representing the republic of korea and that it is also one of your dreams, i'm doing this only for you."

and there was his speech again, you were tired of hearing it but as much as you hated the idea you knew he was right, besides for nothing in the world would you let someone like sunghoon ruin your chance to go to the olympics.

you will work hard, do better than him and win the gold medal. you wouldn't let him beat you.

"okay." your coach's smile lit up his face completely. when it came to skating he could be very tough but you knew he had a big heart, he was like your second father, after all you knew him since you were six years old.

"i'm happy to hear that, then i'll see you tomorrow." he gave a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and you just smiled back.

"what was that?" yuna was almost on top of your body waiting for an answer while you took off your skates.

"nothing, it's just that it seems that for the next few months i will have to spend more hours with sunghoon," you frowned "and every day, as if seeing him three times a week wasn't enough." you jerked your skates away but instantly regretted it, you didn't want them to be ruined.

yuna placed her finger between your eyebrows "you're going to get wrinkles," you couldn't help but giggle "and why are you so mad anyway? remember that this is not about sunghoon but about you and the olympics. i know that you will do great and win a medal."

"i guess you're right," you got up ready to go, with yuna walking by your side "and by medal you mean the gold one right?" you were joking but seeing that she was silent you hit her shoulder playfully "i can't believe that you are like my best friend and you are on his side." you put a hand on your chest pretending to be hurt.

she just laughed "i'm not! but you can't deny that he's pretty good too, you're not called the ice prince and princess for nothing. it's still hard to say who's better and anyone can win."

"yeah whatever you say, but i'm still better." you laughed but you couldn't help but feel some jealousy and insecurity.

you could see sunghoon talking to the coach in a corner, after all it wasn't the first time he beat you. you wrinkled your nose and went on your way, you didn't want to think about him anymore when you were more than sure that the following weeks would be insufferable, you had better things to do than think about him and his stupid face, just like how to improve your routine.

you were going to do your best, you just hoped you could beat him this time.

—

"just focus, try to do it one more time."

you bit your lip as you got up from the floor in frustration after falling for the fourth time trying to do a triple axel. you were angry, angry with yourself, with your coach, with sunghoon who kept sneering silently every time you made a mistake, you were angry with everything. and embarrassed too.

it was ridiculous that now you didn't get that jump when you had done it thousands of times before without problems, you didn't know what was wrong with you that day but you just wanted to do it right so you could stay calm, to stop tormenting your mind with the olympics and in the thousands of mistakes you could make when you were there.

you took a deep breath as you skated around the rink with your eyes closed trying to gain some confidence, muttering words of encouragement to yourself, preparing to do it one more time. you ignored everything around you, you forgot mr choi's expectant look and sunghoon's teasing one, you silenced the voices in your head and tried. it was only you

but you failed again.

"okay, that's enough." mr choi looked disappointed and couldn't even look you in the face but you didn't blame him, you couldn't do it either, the olympics were close and you were already doing everything wrong from day one. you weren't even able to show him your entire routine because you kept making silly mistakes.

you could hear sunghoon's bitter laugh in the distance "i don't even know why you focus so much on her and have so much faith when she can't even do a simple triple axel," you looked him in the eyes wanting to kill him and wishing he would shut his mouth "why is she going to the olympics with me anyway? she will never be good enough." his smirk just made you want to punch him in the face.

"sunghoon." the coach called his name with a frown, he was upset and he knew it but still didn't care, he just shrugged his shoulders pretending "stop talking, it's your turn."

tears threatened to come out of your eyes, you just sat waiting for sunghoon to finish so you could try a few more times, you closed your eyes and covered them with your hands, you didn't even want to see how he did everything perfectly, you tried to review in your mind everything you have prepared so far, but your plans are ruined when mr. choi sits next to you.

"you can go home for today," you could feel how the air left your lungs, you wanted to refuse but he kept talking "i know what you're going to tell me but the answer is no, it's clear that this is not your day, you aren't well and you have to rest because if you go there again," his finger pointed the ice rink "and you fall, you could hurt yourself and i'm sure you don't want that." he crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for you to say something but you just stayed silent looking down "look, we still have a lot of time to train, but i want you to be focused for next time, okay? we can't work like this, come tomorrow with a cool head." his cold expression changed to a softer one as soon as he caressed your hair "and don't pay attention to what sunghoon says."

your throat was closed due to the force you exerted to avoid crying preventing you from speaking, you wanted to thank him for everything but you couldn't, although you were sure he knew it.

you focused on the last thing he said to you, you were already used to sunghoon's words but that didn't mean they couldn't hurt you, they cut deep and stayed with you, you focused your gaze on him but it only made you feel worse, you hated the way he could do everything effortlessly, he aced every move, he didn't need to do much because his presence already lit up the whole place.

ever since you can remember sunghoon was like that, he had an innate talent and you were always jealous for that, he was born with a gift and you had to work hard every day to even be able to be at his level, you wanted to curse him for that.

you remembered his words from a few seconds ago, you couldn't even clearly remember why it all started.

but you hated park sunghoon.

and he hated you too.

it was nothing new for the people who knew you, it was already well known that the two of you were always competitive with each other and that you tried to be better than everyone else, all that rivalry had started when you were kids and after years it still wasn't over, it was ridiculous but it seemed to have no end.

how you wished sunghoon would fall or make some mistake so you could make fun of him the same way he made fun of you, but that didn't seem to happen anytime soon. it was stupid to deny how good he was, you could rarely see him do anything wrong and for that reason it only embarrassed you more that you couldn't get a jump you had been doing for years, sunghoon had improved a lot in a few months and you felt like you were still stuck in the same level since you are 17 years old.

you wanted to laugh when you remembered that time you tried to be friends with him at 9 years old because you had been put together for a routine, everything had started well, both were shy so you didn't talk much at first but you already admired him because you used to see him from afar.

but because of a bad move you started yelling at each other.

sunghoon was rubbing his elbow with a pained expression on his face "it's all your fault! you don't know how to skate" you already apologized and were waiting for him to do the same because you hurt your knee, but instead he just blamed you everything and stuck his tongue out at you, and that was something you couldn't tolerate.

"liar! you're the one who made us fall!" watching two little kids fight could be fun, but his coach was quick to join you to stop the yelling.

"hey, it's okay, don't fight, we're all friends and these mistakes can happen, right? now i want you to apologize." she held you both by the shoulder and brought you closer so you were face to face "come on, what are you waiting for?"

"i already apologized and he was rude." you couldn't get the frown off your face and for nothing in the world would you apologize again.

"that's a lie." sunghoon just stuck his tongue out at you again and by that time you were already crying. you hated when people were mean to you.

"dumb!" maybe you shouldn't have said that, but it was too late.

"stop crying, you look ugly!"

that afternoon, in fact, you couldn't stop crying and your parents had to pick you up to take you home, you didn't want to go for a few days but you decided you wouldn't let a silly kid ruin your fun. and since then sunghoon always made fun of you at every chance he got, he even gave you the nickname "cry baby" even though you never stood idly by and that was just another reason for things between you to get worse. you still remember like it was yesterday when he told you that you would never become good figure skater even if you practiced your whole life.

you didn't even remember how it had been or if it was really his fault that you fell, but the fact is that everything had started because he didn't want to apologize and was rude to you, you used to be a very sensitive kid so you still had a grudge against him.

you were very different, sunghoon was someone cold, selfish and very hard on himself too, while for your part you were very different from him you always found the bright side of things, you helped your teammates no matter what and you enjoyed what you did, you could never understand him no matter how hard you tried, you were more than sure that he was an insensitive and heartless boy.

yeah, you hated park sunghoon.

—

it's been 2 weeks and you're still staying up late with sunghoon to train, there were other competitions coming up but you two were the stars for the olympics.

you were doing better every time, and he was not far behind.

you hated to admit it but he was good. he was so freaking good.

the way he moves is captivating, you could spend hours just watching him move, he was delicate but precise and marked his movements well at the same time, the elegance and beauty of the sport is portrayed in every aspect of him when he's on the ice, he was definitely made for it.

but you didn't except less, after all he was your competition for a reason.

his routine was too good, but you had confidence in yourself and that yours was even better, you would not let something similar to happen a few years ago, when they chose him over you for almost all the competitions they had to represent to the republic of korea, that was your last straw. you still remember crying almost every night because of it.

"excuse me guys, i have a call and i have to answer." you just nodded and kept looking at sunghoon.

he took advantage of that moment to start practicing his quad axel, ever since he saw his biggest idol do it he became obsessed with the idea that he could do it too, mr. choi always scolded him because it was a very dangerous jump and he could get hurt by whatever mistake he made, but he was stubborn and kept trying anyway but you weren't surprised, knowing his personality you were sure he thought he was better than the rest and it wouldn't take him long to handle it perfectly.

you looked to the side for a second diverting your attention from him and a loud noise made you turn back to him almost instantly, sunghoon was on the floor and you just hissed because it was sure painful "better luck next time!" you yelled at him as you saw how he turned around floor.

you brushed him off and just got ready to enter the ice rink, but he wasn't moving an inch and had his face hidden in his arms.

"sunghoon what the hell are you doing? get out so i can practice, you're on the way." you snorted. you thought he was faking it but it took you a couple of seconds to realize he wasn't.

ignoring the voices in your head you quickly approach him, kneeling beside him, you see how his knuckles were white from squeezing his hands so much. you didn't know what to do, he hurted himself? should you tell him something? help him up? call mr choi? all thought left your head the moment sunghoon's eyes collided with yours, they were red and his cheeks were wet with traces of tears, his brow was furrowed and his lip had a small trace of blood from how strong he had been biting all that time.

and you didn't like the feeling of your stomach wanting to come out of your mouth.

"get the fuck off." you didn't realize your hand was so close to his body until he pushed it away. you tried to ignore him and want to help him but he didn't even let you speak "where's mr. choi?"

"i don't know." you walked away from him, not wanting to deal with his bad mood any longer and call mr. choi to take care of him instead.

you saw him struggle to get up, but as soon as he wanted to rest his body on his right leg it vanished almost instantly, he threw a curse into the air. the great park sunghoon, the ice prince, lying on the ground crying from a silly fall? you could only think how pathetic he looked at that moment.

"stop doing that, god you look so stupid, i will just call an ambulance or something." you didn't even really know what you were supposed to do.

the only reason you wanted to use your phone was so you could take a picture of him without him noticing and make fun of it for all eternity. you knew that he was embarrassed by his photos of when he was a child that still circulated on the internet, so this was the perfect opportunity to have a good laugh every time you entered any social media, seeing him so vulnerable just gave you infinite ideas. but you didn't do any of them, and you weren't sure if he would have done the same to you.

"just call mr. choi, i don't need you." he ran his hands over his face and pulled at his hair in frustration.

"can you shut up? i'm trying to be nice, you know i could just leave you lying here suffering because you're an idiot who doesn't know his limits and doesn't accept help, right?" maybe you should have done what he told you instead of continuing to embitter your existence with his presence.

"did i ever ask you to come help me? stop acting like you're good now, i don't need your stupid pity and much less your help, i'd rather break my ankle than be another second near you." you were more than grateful that those feelings were mutual, you were just wasting your time trying to be nice to him.

and so you confirmed once again that you hated him.

but that annoying sensation didn't leave your chest, you hated sunghoon but you hated even more that feeling that you never felt for him invade your body before. was it pity? you were sure it was, it must also be the nerves of the moment. and you couldn't sit idly by, you didn't even know where mr. choi had gone, if you just left him alone there you wouldn't be much better than him.

and you don't want to be someone like him.

"well the thing is you probably did break your ankle." the look he gave you almost made you back away from him, you've never seen so many emotions run through someone's orbs before and it was overwhelming.

you didn't want to keep looking at him because of how uncomfortable you were starting to feel so you turned around looking for mr. choi, you didn't want to be there anymore, but you couldn't even get 2 meters away from him when he finally appeared.

"what happened?" his voice sounded scared, terrified. he hurriedly approached sunghoon and wasted no time taking off his skate and seeing the state of his body, you walked away while listening to his moans of pain. this was none of your business "y/n i already called an ambulance, you go with him i will follow you with my car behind."

"what?" you opened your eyes wanting to believe that you heard wrong, but mr. choi repeated it to you loud and clear "but-"

"no excuses now."

you couldn't say another word. everything had happened very quickly, you didn't even remember if it was your body that moved on its own but you were already in the back of the ambulance next to sunghoon. you wanted to die.

both are wrapped in a silence that surpassed the uncomfortable, the tension could be counted with just a knife no matter how sharp it was, you keep looking everywhere avoiding his eyes.

"you need to tell your family." you didn't realize those words came out of your mouth instead of staying in your head.

"i don't have my phone." his eyes closed and you had barely heard him speak.

"i'll call them for you, i just need you to give me a number."

"no you won't, god stop being so annoying, just let mr. choi take care of everything." and there was his annoyed expression again, you were already surprised to see him calm for so long.

you wanted to say so many things at that time, but not a single sound left your lips just out of pity.

you made a little mental note to yourself that this would be the first and last time you would try to help park sunghoon.

—

the atmosphere was tense, you felt how simply the air from those four walls crushed your body and cut the air from your lungs, your head was heavy and the vision in your eyes became blurred over time because you had only been looking at the same spot in the floor for the last 10 minutes.

you never felt that time passed as slowly as it does now.

you just wanted mr. choi to finish talking to the doctor and finish all his calls so you could tell him that you would leave that place to go home, if you spent just one more second next to sunghoon you would feel how your lungs would become intoxicated.

and he felt the same as you, it was uncomfortable having your presence so close and that neither said anything knowing that a single comment would be like dropping a bomb, and both knew that the damage it would leave couldn't be repaired.

but there you were, opening your big, silly mouth, unable to contain yourself "how do you feel?"

"are you seriously asking me that?" you rolled your eyes for the sixth time that day at his response, at least you no longer felt your throat burn.

"yes, that's what i just did, are you deaf?" you spat out your words

sunghoon's mood wasn't the best, it never was, and with everything he was feeling at the time, your words and your mere presence were enough to make him explode.

"god, can you just leave me alone and get the fuck out of here!? why would i want someone as useless as you here? i'm sick of you, you're not good at skating or doing whatever it is you want to do now! we're not friends and never will be don't even try it, get that into that head of yours at least that's how you use it for something, i don't even know why you're still here when all you do is sulk me up and be a nuisance here." his finger was pointing at you, his body moving closer to yours with every word he spat hatefully in your face and neither of you broke eye contact.

it was pathetic how his words still had such an effect on you, he meant nothing to you so why did it hurt so much? why did you want to cry and yell in his face for him to shut up? why did your body feel so weak, as if your knees would lose strength if you kept looking into his eyes?

for almost all your life you had to put up with his insults and mistreatment, you were sick of it, you didn't want to keep quiet anymore, he even screwed up your mind making you believe thousands of times that you could never be a good skater knowing how much it affected you and how much it meant to you, you both shared the same passion so what was his problem? every day you wished you had never met him.

you would travel to the past a million times changing the timeline as much as necessary to avoid meeting him, to avoid knowing his name that consumed so much time and energy, to avoid feeling the way you did now.

"fuck you sunghoon, you've been acting like a fucking idiot when all i wanted to do was help you! you're a selfish bastard who just likes to suck the life out of people, you can't and don't have the right to treat me like shit just because you want to, i'm tired of you and you know what? i'm thankful that you injured your ankle and you can't go to the olympics now because it was your big dream, right? well that's a shame because you really deserved it and i really hope you never get to skate again!"

you would go back in time to avoid becoming someone heartless like him who didn't measure his words and only spoke with the intention of hurting all the people around him.

your heart was threatening to burst out of its cage in the rage of the moment. those words came from the depths of you, you knew that everything you said was wrong but you didn't regret it, at least you no longer felt that annoying weight on your chest.

"hey why are you guys yelling so much? we're in a hospital." the moment mr. choi's voice reached your ears was when you finally looked away from sunghoon's eyes.

"get out." his voice came out weaker than before, you couldn't see him in the face, you wanted to give him the pleasure of seeing you doing something he asked you after so long and you just walked out of there without saying anything.

you did it, you really made the effort to get along with him not just once but twice already but now you regret even thinking about it in the first place, so many years had passed and you didn't know why you thought maybe he had changed.

—

you closed your eyes tightly in the hope that it would help you become invisible to mr. choi.

you knew that when he approached you with that look it was to ask you for something you didn't like. and you knew that it only meant one thing; park sunghoon.

"you don't know anything about him?" you looked at him with tired eyes, although you could understand his concern, what happened to him had nothing to do with you.

"no, why should i know?" you wanted to hit yourself when you noticed how rude those words had come out, he didn't have to pay for your bad mood in the last few days.

the words of the famous ice prince wouldn't leave your head and they didn't seem to want to do it soon either, you couldn't skate in peace thinking that maybe you could fall like him or remembering all the times he told you that you would never be a good skater, or that all your routines were mediocre.

you hated that despite not seeing him these days you still felt his shadow behind you in everything you did once you entered the ice rink, as if he were saying those cruel words in your ear all the time.

"great, because i need you to take the stuff he left here when he got injured, i would but..." he didn't continue saying anything else, you sighed when you thought that maybe he was doing all that on purpose, after all it wasn't the first time he did something like this so that you two would get along.

your silence was an affirmative answer for him, so he went to look for the bags and the skates, which was probably what he left behind. you turned your head finding yuna, instantly begging her with your eyes to come with you.

"don't even think about it." she turned her back on you starting to walk in the opposite direction and you already had your arms holding her against your body.

"please, please, don't leave me alone in this," you said in a whimper, your words muffled against her back, you didn't want to get your face out of there until she said yes "did you forget all the things i did for you?"

you thought you could easily manipulate her but she knew you too well for your liking "as much as i love you, it's not in my plans to go to his house, much less with you knowing what happened the last time you saw each other" you didn't want that either, go to sunghoon's house and alone? not even in dreams.

and in a blink there you were, in front of the door of his house.

completely alone.

on the way there all you did was curse yuna for letting you go to that hell alone and you cursed sunghoon too by the way because there was never a bad time to do it. why didn't he go get his things? or his parents?

the neighbors probably thought you were a freak for standing there for more than 5 minutes without even moving a bit. you had to work up the strength to see him and not shoot him with the first thing in your hand.

you gathered your strength and lifting your chest like a dove, you rang the doorbell praying that anyone but him would open it.

but your prayers were in vain when his weary face with dark circles under his eyes and crutches on both sides of his body were the first thing you saw.

you didn't even know what to say or do, your eyes widened in surprise, ever since you met him there wasn't a single time you saw him in such a... unfortunate state, his face was always perfect and groomed, you were sure he would always took the necessary time to look good at any time and especially in his presentations that finding any imperfection on his face was like looking for a needle in a haystack. you couldn't help but feel bad for him, he looked as if he had spent the whole night crying and only now was getting up from his depressive nest. you knew it because you were like that before and you weren't proud of it.

the sudden breeze hitting your face snaps you out of your thoughts, sunghoon had slammed the door in your face without saying anything and didn't even give you a chance to speak. you couldn't believe it, he was acting like a capricious child, you opened your mouth to yell at him but you just threw his things on the floor in anger not caring what was inside and you were ready to walk away, but a soft voice at your back stopped all your movements.

"oh, i'm so sorry! please excuse my son, he never behaves like that." you wanted to laugh at that, if only she knew.

ignoring that, you focused on her, you couldn't deny that her eyes and her black hair hypnotized you for a few seconds, it wasn't the first time you saw sunghoon's mother but the first time you were so close to her. the two of them were almost the same in appearance but from a distance you could already tell that she was much sweeter than him.

"it's okay, i just came to drop off the bags that he left behind the other day." your cheeks turned red at how soft your voice became.

"thank you so much and i'm sorry for the inconvenience, we couldn't find time to go look for them ourselves." she took the bags in her hands and started to go into the house, you thought she was going to say goodbye to you "please come in!" and you were wrong.

"but mom-" all that time sunghoon was behind her and only now did you notice.

"you just go in and stay there, i'll talk to you later." although she said it as low as possible just for him to hear it also reached your ears and you couldn't help but giggle, not even sunghoon's gaze could shut you up, but his mother turning to see you again did "please join us, we were about to have dinner as a family."

"oh no! no need-"

"please! you took the trouble to come here and you need to eat something, take it as an apology," you wanted to say no again, make up some excuse, any would be fine but the look in her eyes won you over and now you were standing awkwardly inside their house while you waited for mrs. park to close the door behind you "sunghoon take this to your room."

the expression he put on seemed amused, he made you want to laugh again, probably because it seemed like his room was upstairs and he, well... had crutches.

his mother disappeared from your sight and if before you were uncomfortable now with sunghoon by your side it was much worse.

"can you- uh, can you help me?" him asking you for help was the last thing you expected.

you hesitated, you didn't want to do it you still couldn't forget everything he told you days ago and that still hurt your chest when you remembered it, you wanted to see him fight to be able to carry the bags by himself and if it was possible that his ankle would hurt even more, you wanted to be just as shitty as him and tell him to his face all the things you still had saved.

but you couldn't.

you couldn't afford to stoop that low just because you were hurt, he needed your help so you would just do it. in complete silence you grabbed the largest bag and started to climb the stairs, you had to wait at the top of them for him to come to your side and tell you where to leave it, on that small path you couldn't help but look around you, it was full of family pictures and you noticed that downstairs there was a special place with all the medals and trophies sunghoon had won since he was a kid, up here there were a lot of pictures of him since he was practically a baby, you weren't that surprised because after all you knew each other since you were 6 years old and you still remembered how he looked at that time and he hadn't changed that much since then.

but what did surprise you was seeing his smile in all the photos, when you saw him he rarely smiled and in that hallway all the happiness and love he felt for figure skating was captured, something you had never seen in all the time that you knew him, he was always a private person so he probably only showed himself that way to his family, but it was reassuring to see that he wasn't always the moody guy who seemed to hate everyone and life itself.

"you can leave it here." you had been so immersed looking at the photos that you didn't notice sunghoon in front of the door of his room. you were surprised again to see that he wasn't so… cold. there were posters of his favorite skaters and probably his favorite bands, plus there were a few stuffed animals lying around as well.

sunghoon's mother's voice calling both of you from downstairs made you remember that now you had to have dinner with his family, your hands were shaking and he noticed that "don't be nervous, they aren't going to bite you." you snorted, wanting to kick one of their crutches out of sight.

"just shut up, I shouldn't even be here right now."

"hey be more respectful, be grateful that my family wants to have someone like you in our house, if it were up to me I wouldn't even have opened the door for you." you just ignored him and left his room, but the moment you were downstairs again the nerves consumed your body.

"come on sweetie, dinner is ready." mrs. park caressed your shoulder affectionately and led you to the table where there were already two other people, you quickly bowed.

contrary to what you thought, the conversation with his family was really nice they made an effort to make you feel at home and you appreciated that, although at first it was a bit awkward and it seemed that they asked you questions as if you were sunghoon's partner, you were able to talk with them as if you had known them all your life, his mother and sister were some of the sweetest people you have met so far, his father didn't speak much but still congratulated you as if you were his own daughter when you started talking about your achievements on the ice rink.

sunghoon didn't even speak to you the whole night, although most of the conversation was focused on you he managed to act as if you didn't exist, when he talked to his family he seemed like a completely different person from the one you knew, the tone of his voice was much softer with them and he laughed more often, you were sure his giggles would stay in your mind for a long time because as much as you hated to admit it, he was adorable.

that night something in your head changed, your perception of him still hadn't changed that much, his family was still much nicer than him however ignoring that you always thought he was someone arrogant who didn't care if he was the best or not because just it came naturally to him and he was unable to empathize with or care for anyone other than himself.

but maybe you were wrong.

he was still a jerk to you, but you got to know a part of him you didn't know existed.

—

"thank you so much for everything." you lost count of the times you bowed and thanked for everything.

"you can always come back whenever you want darling, next time I can make you your favorite food," you smiled at her, ready to go "are you going alone? It's quite late already sunghoon can accompany you so you don't go alone."

you wanted to throw up at that thought, you tried to say different excuses but none had convinced mrs. park enough to let you walk alone late at night, so the three of you agreed that it would only be a few blocks.

you were convinced that the awkward atmosphere between you whenever you were alone would never leave, you wanted that moment to end quickly but considering that he can't even walk properly it was kind of hard.

you had been walking side by side for several minutes in complete silence, you bit your lip as you watched the stars in the sky to distract yourself.

"my doctor said that I can skate again without much effort," he spoke out of the blue and you just left him, at least he had broken the silence "I won't be able to go to the olympics but at least it's not so bad that it leaves me without skating for the rest of my life."

you knew he was saying that because of what you told him that time in the hospital, you hesitated to apologize, you remembered the moment from years ago but you were no longer children and you had to be responsible for your words, after all you couldn't hold a grudge all your life.

"I'm sorry."

he shook his head denying "you have nothing to apologize for, that should be me."

"what?" you couldn't believe that, park sunghoon apologizing? you wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't imagining it "you're apologizing because your mother asked you to, right?" you wanted to make fun of him because you didn't think his attempted apology was sincere, but his words silenced you.

"look, I'm only going to say this once," you had both stopped walking and now you were looking into each other's eyes, you had never paid them as much attention as now, he swallowed before speaking "I'm really sorry."

you didn't know what to say, your body went still and the words disappeared from your head, you realized how hard it had been for him to blurt out those words and part of it was funny, but on the other hand you couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he apologized to you. after years—after having said so many horrible things, this was the first time that you both let your true feelings show and were vulnerable.

you were both sorry and you noticed it.

both look into each other's eyes for a while longer until he finally leaves greeting you with a slight nod, leaving you stunned in the middle of the night, with the stars as the only witness of that rare moment.

maybe your perception of him had changed that day after all.

—

it had been almost 3 weeks since that little conversation you had and you haven't heard from him since.

for some reason now your mind felt more relaxed and you were able to feel freer with your movements, now you did everything 10 times better than before.

except today you seemed to have a problem again, you had been trying to do a toe loop for several minutes but you always landed wrong or didn't complete all the laps, you were already starting to get frustrated and mr choi didn't seem to be around at the time.

"you're doing it wrong." a soft voice behind you makes you turn your body almost completely towards him.

"what are you doing here?" It was the first thing that came out of your mouth when you saw him enter the ice rink.

"skating" he left without bothering to look at you and you sighed once more, it would always be difficult trying to talk to him, especially knowing the kind of complicated relationship you still had. not that you had become the best of friends for an apology.

but at least you were relieved that his ankle was okay, you still felt bad about what you told him at the hospital. although you couldn't stop thinking about the idea that this would be a chance to win because it left your way clear.

you tried it one more time, with the small big difference that when you landed sunghoon's hands were on you, you shivered when you felt the contact of his skin on your waist.

"you keep doing it wrong." you saw his smirk, surely he was making fun of you.

"I know." you wanted to walk away from the uncomfortable feeling of your heart starting to beat faster but his grip only tightened.

"yeah but you're not doing anything to fix it, you keep making the same mistake over and over again." feeling his breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

"what do you want?" you pushed his hands away from you more roughly than you meant to. now you were seeing each other face to face.

sunghoon rolled his eyes "nothing, I just want to help you" you narrowed your eyes, not fully believing in his words "you have to lift your chest more, you're very hunched over and you're just going to end up hurting yourself." he showed with his body how you had been doing it, giving you a quizzical look for not knowing something so simple "try again now."

you snorted but you listened to what he said, you did the same as before only changing your posture a little. and to your surprise you were able to achieve it perfectly.

"see? I told you." today he was very smiling, it was rare to see him like that.

"thanks but what are you? are you trying to be my trainer now?"

"so what if I want to be?" your body stopped moving just to look at him incredulously and instantly a big laugh came out of his mouth.

"what is so funny?"

"your faces," it took him a couple of seconds to calm down, by the time he finished he was on his knee while the other held his stomach "I'm serious, after all I won't be able to compete and you're the only one good enough out of here that can win, I won't let you lose just because you can't do a dumb toe loop."

he just said you were good? even though you thought the idea of ​​him was a bit stupid, you could feel how all the heat of your body was concentrated in your cheeks dyeing them red, why was he being nice to you so suddenly? did he forget all the things you said to each other? surely the blow he took made him dumber than he already was.

you could hear him laugh again "shut up."

—

"what, are you two a couple now?" you thought that that day would be quiet, but yuna had other plans for you.

"what are you talking about?" you complained, still sleepy on your body.

"don't look at me like that, a few weeks ago I could have sworn you guys were about to kill each other but now you're close together, what with the "you're doing it wrong, let me help you" bullshit just to hold your waist? because you were doing it perfect." she couldn't believe it.

"stop saying nonsense, i guess he just feel bad cause he can't skate at the olympics now, he's just helping me."

yuna rolled her eyes "if you say so."

she walks away leaving you alone with your thoughts, and you didn't like the feeling in your stomach.

despite having refused his proposal about 10 times, sunghoon ended up convincing you and whenever he could he helped you although it wasn't much since you were good enough at what you did, you had been spending time together at the ice rink for several days and surprisingly you didn't insult each other even once. or well, he hadn't insulted you because you had already lost count of the things you said to him for purposely tripping you up a couple of times. and now you find yourself enjoying his company, something you never thought was possible before, you two were still very different but you had found a way to be together without bumping into each other so much and it was through skating, both of you loved it so much that you began to get along little by little just because of that.

"you're fine, I know you'll be able to do it perfectly there, just try not to do the quad axel." If you had been told a few months ago that you would be laughing with sunghoon today while sharing a drink he bought for you, you would have laughed on their faces as loud as ever.

leaving that aside, you noticed him a little more discouraged than usual today, there were times when you saw him totally immersed in his thoughts or you had to repeat things twice when you spoke to him "is something wrong? I notice that you're distracted."

"I'm just thinking about you." you almost choked on the bottle of soda you were drinking, your stomach started to feel weird and your breathing was ragged.

"what?" you turned your face while touching your cheeks, noticing that they were hot, it was embarrassing and he just laughs.

"I'm sorry, what I mean is that- I'm really sorry" he looks into your eyes intensely and your whole body trembles at that, you've never seen so much shine in them "I'm really, really sorry... for everything. especially the day i got injured, this means everything to me and i was terrified that i would never be able to skate again because of my own stupidity, for being so stubborn and not listening to others, also because i had never hurt myself before and at that moment I could feel how my ankle was separating from my whole body, this injury scared the hell out of me." the crack in his voice reaches in and squeezes your heart so tight you can feel your eyes tearing up "you were right in all things what did you say, that I'm a heartless egoist who never thinks about what he says and I'm hurting the people around me-"

it was the second time you saw him cry.

"I didn't mean that." you blink the tears away as fast as they appeared, seeing sunghoon in that state and remembering all bothered you more than you liked to admit. before you might have enjoyed it but now it was different.

and it was the first time you cried in front of him.

"okay, I know I deserved it anyway," his eyes were now focused on the floor "I was just- I was trying to be the best but I realized quite late that that wasn't the way and everything I told you during years was really horrible and I'm sorry you had to endure all that, if I were you I would have hit myself several times already." he chuckled.

"i really wanted to," you hit him with your shoulder playfully "but I'm sorry too, I said horrible things to you."

"don't worry about me, I don't even know why I behaved like this for so long and I wish I could have seen how stupid I was much earlier." he moved his hand close to yours, wanting to take it in his but finally he ended up putting it in his pocket "I realized that skating means a lot to you too. maybe we're not so different after all." he looked at your face again with a smile on his face.

"maybe you're right, I mean, look at us now talking normally as if nothing happened."

"yeah but I don't want this to come to nothing, I really want you to forgive me." your heart jumped out of your chest "I was scared that you were so much better than me because I really think you could easily defeat me because of how much you try every day, even much more than me, the things I did and said to make you feel bad so that you stop skating are unjustified, but now I want to do things right and I hope we can start again." he sounded so sorry that he was really making it hard for you to hold a grudge.

"there were many years that we argued for nothing and you're not the only one to blame, you were ten times worse with me but I cannot hold a grudge or hate you all my life," he lifted his head with hope in his eyes waiting for you to keep talking "I think we're fine."

"thank you." his smile was accomplishing things inside of you, and you didn't like it "also, uh- I could see what a wonderful person you are and I was surprised that you treated me well after all, I was waiting for you to spit on me when you saw me or something like that," you raised your eyebrow wanting to really hit him this time "and I saw this as my chance to make things right."

"don't lie to me now, it was your mom that changed your mind so suddenly, right?" he burst out laughing, only to end up leaning his head against the wall staring up at the ceiling.

"maybe she played a big role in that." you couldn't take your eyes off his profile "you're a really good skater and i'll tell you all the time if need be in order to erase the bad things i said before and that probably are still in your head."

"what do you mean?"

"you don't need to pretend with me now, I can tell those little insecurities you have when you're on the ice." you wanted to get out of that place as fast as possible, you didn't think you were so obvious about it and sunghoon noticing made things worse.

he noticed that but he couldn't do anything else besides give you a smile, you simply remained silent with your eyes closed enjoying the silence and thanking that it wasn't uncomfortable like previous times, now both were a little more comfortable with each other's presence.

you needed to hear those words, you needed to feel that relief, as if the weight you had been feeling on your back all this time stopped squeezing your wounds, letting them heal.

if it wasn't for mr. choi who burst in, you both would have fallen asleep.

—

it was finally the day.

and there you were, at the winter olympics with your suit on waiting for your turn which was at any moment. you felt like throwing up since you took the plane to here and days had passed since that, your body was shaking—you could feel your blood flow through your veins and you were sure that at any moment you would pass out before entering the ice rink, mr. choi had been by your side the whole time trying to calm you down but your heart seemed to want to explode and you just wanted to dig your nails into your skin like a cat.

you kept going around and you were already making everyone around you nervous. you were so focused fixing your suit making sure there was no mistake that you almost didn't hear the sound of your phone, it was a call. and it was from sunghoon.

you pick it up quickly "hey." his voice sounded so calm in your ears that he helped you let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding.

"hey." you noticed how even your voice trembled.

"I can feel from here how nervous you are," his laugh cleared your thoughts "relax, I know you can handle this and it will be great."

you bit your lip, not knowing very well what to say "thank you sunghoon, but if you were with me right now I would have already pulled your hair out to calm myself." his loud laugh forced you to move the phone away from your ear.

"you're so lucky, you're there with my biggest idol and you're wasting your time being nervous," you let out a sigh, silently thanked him for calling you and speaking to you so normally, maybe you'd even ask for an autograph to thank him properly. you talked for a while about a butterfly that had entered sunghoon's room the other day until mr. choi called you to get ready "I don't want to take up any more of your time but i want you to know that you don't have to prove anything to anyone, everything will be fine considering that you had the best coach," you smiled at that "you have the strength and talent to win all the medals in the world, good luck."

he hung up without letting you say anything and you could swear that a second before you heard him blow a kiss. but maybe it was just your imagination.

but sunghoon was right, you had worked hard day and night for this moment and would do your best. you were fulfilling your dream, and you were going to win that medal.

"what did sunghoon say to you to make you blush like this?" mr. choi teased you, you hadn't noticed how hot your cheeks felt until he pointed it out.

he had been very sweet to you and you couldn't help it. but quickly any thoughts left your head, you were ready to compete.

—

"congratulations! I knew you would make it."

arms around your waist were the first thing you felt when you opened your door in the middle of the night, sunghoon's hug was already leaving you breathless, besides you felt dizzy from the sudden warmth of his body against yours, which was still cold and tired, then he lifts you off the ground causing you to hold on tight to him as he spun you around in the air.

his laughter had lit up the night along with the stars and the sound of crickets in the background, when he left you on the ground and walked away from your body you couldn't help but watch him carefully, you had spent several days without seeing him after spending practically 24 hours together and only now did you realize how beautiful he was.

"thank you sunghoon," his smile really made your day so much better "why are you here?"

"well, you just arrived and I definitely had to be the first to congratulate you in person when I already sent you thousands of messages" his hand never let go of his waist "besides mr. choi obviously."

so pretty.

you never got to see his features as closely as now, but he really looked like a dream, now you could understand those girls on your team who never stopped talking about him, it had only been you who was clouded by the hatred that you felt that you never saw beyond his attitudes with you.

"my parents really wanted to see you today," his voice was full of emotion and you could feel how some tears wanted to come out of your eyes, not even your parents were there with you but you had all the support of his "but it's too late, they still want you to know that you did amazing and that you deserve it."

"that's so sweet," you ran your hand over his arm that was still holding you "tell them thanks for me, maybe I'll visit them again one of these days."

"they would love that."

you were both silent for a while, it wasn't annoying but you really wanted to talk to him more but nothing wanted to come out of your mouth.

"i think i should-"

"hey." he stopped any movement tightening his grip, he had been scared to see how you wanted to go back into your house.

"what's the matter?"

"uh, nothing, I..." he fills his other hand up to his neck scratching it "I'm really proud of you."

you giggled seeing him so nervous, giving compliments was still a bit difficult for him "thank you sunghoon, to be honest I never thought I'd hear that from you."

"but I'm serious, all those times I told you that you didn't know how to skate or that you did it wrong were a complete lie, you did it perfectly and I-"

"hey, it's okay," you caressed his arm looking for him to look you in the eye "you already apologized before, you don't need to do it again."

"okay," now he was so restless that with his movements he hit your shoulder lightly "I can't believe we spent years doing this stupid thing for nothing."

you both laugh and remain silent looking at each other under the moonlight. you felt the change in the air and now there was a different sparkle in his eyes that told you so many things you were terrified to take in.

sunghoon never knew when it happened but your existence began to weigh less and less on his head, you were still on his mind but now it was very different, he began to feel different every time he was with you and he was surprised to know that you weren't someone else completely different and you were the same girl he spent "hating" for years. was it really hate? he never believed that but he could never close his mouth when he saw you do something wrong, maybe he liked seeing you angry or seeing how you failed because after all you were the only competition he had.

his heart didn't lie but he was scared as hell of how things could turn out, he even talked to his mother about it but now he was questioning if it had been a good idea. he never fell in love, hell he hadn't even been as interested in a person as he does with you, the constant need he felt to want to help you improve and be with you all the time was beginning to be annoying for him. so many years alone and now his foolish heart wants to merge with yours? it was ridiculous.

but he liked it.

all these new sensations made him feel like a totally new person who was just discovering the world despite having lived 19 years. everything had been so gray for him that he was overwhelmed to see that there were millions of colors out there that he had refused to see.

suddenly sunghoon gets closer to your body, his fingers caress your cheek and your body begins to fail "what are you doing?"

"actually I have something else to tell you," you were scared by your heartbeat that didn't seem to want to control itself "I can't keep it anymore but I think- I think I like you."

time stops for a few seconds, your eyes open wide not believing what you just heard, you don't move or say anything and sunghoon thinks maybe he made a mistake, he wanted to speak again to apologize but you walk away from him, as if his touch burned you.

"I'm sorry I have to go." you closed the door in his face.

and sunghoon thought that he did everything wrong, that after all your wounds were still open and he had no right to have done that, that contrary to your words maybe your heart hadn't completely forgiven him. he wished he had cleaned his mouth with soap.

the overwhelming wave of feelings that hit you felt like a tsunami, and you were drowning.

—

you haven't seen sunghoon since then and your mind was a complete mess.

it was absurd that no matter what the reason was, he was always circulating your thoughts without letting you rest even for a single day.

"who are you waiting for?" yuna touched your shoulder surprising you.

"no one, why?"

"well you've been looking at the door for like ten minutes." you turned your whole body only to be in front of her with a marked expression of confusion on your face.

"no I wasn't."

"yeah you were," she just laughs "never mind, i guess you must have a lot on your mind right now." her raised eyebrows made you suspicious of her words.

"what do you mean?"

"don't play dumb, you know perfectly well what I'm talking about," you just looked to the side avoiding her face, you didn't want to think about it "did something happen between you two? you used to be together all the time and now I haven't seen him for several days around here although his ankle was already good enough to return his training."

you played with your fingers, scared to answer, scared of your feelings "I don't know."

she was silent looking at you with her eyes narrowed "you know that with that answer you already told me everything I needed to know, right?" your cheeks burned in an instant "it always bothered you that sunghoon was someone so stubborn, but you don't realize that you're almost the same." her finger lightly tapped your forehead for you to see and stop hiding.

"we are not the same." you wrinkled your nose, wanting to end that conversation.

"oh of course not dear, I've known you both for years and I could even say that you are opposite. but ones that attract each other." she smiled seeing your expression "and both are equally oblivion with your feelings."

she got up grabbing her things, you looked quickly and everyone was ready to go to her house "yuna!"

"bye!" she quickly advanced her steps to the exit, it was impossible to stop her.

what was she referring to? you let out a groan, you already had too much on your mind for her to confuse you even more.

could you really like him? you kept thinking that, just a few months ago you hated each other to death, was it possible to have those feelings now? It was ridiculous whichever way you looked at it.

"haven't you left yet? great," mr. choi sat next to you, preventing you from thinking "i need you to practice with sunghoon, it's just to help him and control him with his ankle, I don't want him to do anything risky."

you frowned visibly annoyed "what am I now? his babysitter?" seeing his expression made you regret your words "I'm sorry but everyone is already leaving and besides, shouldn't you be the one to help him with that?"

"oh come on, don't act like you never stayed up late practicing, it won't take long." he really didn't need to tell you anything else because you would do it anyway.

—

the air is sharp to breathe and there you were, again wrapped in that awkward silence.

which you had not missed at all.

"are you ready?" he doesn't even look you in the eye, but neither can you.

he entered the ice rink without saying anything, the music began to play and as soon as his body moved you couldn't take your eyes off him at any time, he became one with the music, he paid attention and dedication to every little thing detail and that was what made his presentations truly unique.

"try to slow down." still he was pushing himself too hard, and you didn't want his ankle to heal badly or worst case he hurt again.

when he finished he moved closer to your body, scared that he wanted to talk about that night, but also afraid that he would ignore you. but not a single word left his mouth, he just stood there in front of you looking at your face and then opened his arms, waiting for you to do something.

you shifted your gaze from his arms to his face a few times and your body turned on its own, enveloping him in a warm embrace. your arms find their place in him and your face seeks comfort in the space of his neck, you feel in heaven when he tries to wrap you around his whole body leaving not a single inch between you "can we skate together? it feels lonely."

both weren't even skating like you should, just spinning around nonstop while your arms constantly searched for your bodies not wanting to be even a second apart, it was as if you needed each other's warmth to live or else the ice below would consume you.

your body was at peace but at the same time full of nerves and doubts, had it been a mistake not to say anything at that moment and close the door in his face? why didn't he push you away after you behaved that way? you didn't know but you don't want the answer either, you didn't want to think about what would become of you if he just disappeared from your life, he was always there no matter if you couldn't stand each other before. he will always be a part of your life.

"actually I asked mr. choi to do this," you moved your head away from his chest, looking at him confused "I almost had to beg him to tell you to stay a little longer and let us be alone."

"why did you do it?"

his face came closer to yours "because I missed you." his breathing mixed with yours and you no longer thought you would be able to stay calm "besides because the last time I saw you you seemed to hate me again."

you hid your face again only to hit his chest, he didn't make a sound and the rage you had inside you made you hit him again and again and again. but he never pushed you away, his hands were still firm on your body, he knew he deserved it.

"you can't do this to me," you tried not to shed a single tear "saying that to me after everything you've put me through? it's not fair."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. I know you are and I hate you for it." when you stopped beating him sunghoon could only hug you tightly letting you sob into his shirt "I hate you for making me forgive you so easily despite everything."

"I'm really sorry." hearing sunghoon apologize had already become normal "it was my fault for saying that to you so out of the blue and thinking that you would reciprocate my feelings after everything I did to you, I-"

you cut him off with a kiss.

a shiver ran through your whole body, you had never felt your heart beat so fast to the point that it was the only thing you could feel, but the touch of his lips made you feel more alive than ever.

his lips were soft as winter, like snow that melted under your warm touch.

it was just like when the sun melts the ice.

"but above all I hate myself for reciprocating your feelings." sunghoon's soul returned to his body upon hearing those words, you can't help but smile as you see how the panic in his eyes fades.

"god you scared the hell out of me," his fingers wiped your tears gently "my crybaby," you laughed at that old nickname "since I started being with you more I could feel my heart beating faster whenever I was near you, look." he holds your hand to put it on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat "I feel so stupid for everything I did before."

you realize that back then you were drowning because you didn't swim far enough, but now you could breathe.

maybe liking him wasn't such a bad thing.

"as you should." you were silent for a while just feeling each other's heartbeat "i shouldn't have closed the door on you that day." he couldn't stop looking at your face fondly, his gaze drifting to your lips most of the time.

sunghoon took a deep breath "don't worry about it," he practically whispered on your lips, wanting another kiss "I like you a lot. I was so scared of losing you."

he closed his eyes letting his forehead rest against yours "I like you a lot too, I think I just needed time to think, I'm sorry."

"stop apologizing, just please let me kiss you again and again and again."

It was such an intimate moment, as if you were in your own bubble away from everyone and just showing each other affection.

none of you stopped until you were forced to pull away from lack of air "you made me see a lot of things differently." he brushed your hair behind your ear, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb.

you really noticed, sunghoon had changed a lot in such a short time to how he was just a few months ago, but you always thought it was because of his injury that had restricted many things, you never thought it was because of you. before he was cold and rarely smiled, he was alone most of the time and seemed not to want to make friends, he just concentrated on skating. but now it was as if he were a different person although deep down he was still him. the same sunghoon who pouted, didn't speak, and turned away from everyone when he was upset, the introverted but noisy boy who always made mr. choi laugh with his jokes, who worked hard everyday to be the best, the same sunghoon who always loved dearly. you laughed at yourself, you used to think he had no heart when in fact he has the biggest of all.

who would have thought that sunghoon was this loving? all the time wanting to be glued to you.

"you know, maybe I've won a lot of medals in the past, and all of them being better than you," you wanted to hit him for making fun of you at that moment "but nothing compares to you." he gives you a little peak "you are the most precious thing I've ever gained in all my life."

you laugh, running your hands over his neck "gained?" you gently tugged at his hair as you brought your face close to his lips, teasing him.

"just kiss me already."

and you did, enjoying the moment wishing it would never end and wishing your heart felt like this forever, more alive than ever.

"can i ask you out on a date?" god, you would never get tired of looking at his eyes and his moles.

"only if you don't slam doors in my face." he laughs, only for you to shut him up with another kiss, and another, and another.

"deal."

୨୧　𝓓RENCHED 𝓘N 𝓨OU ─ 박성훈

☆ ⋆ 𝑝. 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 ・ 𝑓𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ・ 𝑤𝑐. 6OO ・ 𝑐𝑤. 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 ・ 𝑔. 𝗌𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾 ・ 𝑎𝑛. 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 !! 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 @mygnolia　—　𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿

　　── ❛ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇 , 𝗌𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗇 + 𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 = 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 ❜

Watching Sunghoon’s svelte frame in the salt-water pool, the thin clothes clinging to his figure as he glided across the water, you relished in the sight.

“Having fun watching, babe?” His velvety voice echoed through the enclosed space, water splashing as a smirk washed over his lips. You paused, the sight of his pretty brown eyes gazing at you, his head tilted and his eyebrow lifted, it was all too much to take in.

You rolled your eyes playfully, sugary lips curving into a smile as you slowly dipped yourself into the pool. The water placed cold kisses against your skin as you sunk in, your body already trembling as you neared Sunghoon who stood there, smiling.

“That’s better,” he whispered, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer, his hands sliding up and down your form. You smiled, a shiver still present as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You like to see me like this?” You teased and leaned closer, your lips almost pressing against his skin, but you halted. Your breath brushes against his ear, your voice a low whisper. “I could get used to this view… but I’m not the only one enjoying it, am I?”

You pulled away from him, savouring the reaction he gave as your hand rested on his practically bare chest, the white cloth barely visible as if it had simply disintegrated.

“Will this answer your question?” Sunghoon asked rhetorically, gripping your waist tight, his arms pulling you close. A soft giggle left your lips, muffled as he kissed you. Your arms wrapped around him as the kiss deepened, your fingers tangling within his hair. His breath became heavy as your lips traced down his neck leaving sweet love bites on his Adam's apple.

Warmth radiated from Sunghoon’s body contrasting the cold water that splashed around you. His fingers dug into your waist, pulling you closer as your kisses quickened with more urgency and lust.

You placed rough kisses along his delicate skin, lingering over his collarbone. You couldn’t resist the temptation, gently biting down, a soft nip at his skin that made him gasp, breath hitched in his throat. You pulled back, watching his reaction as his eyes grew dark, lips parted as he looked down at you and an unreadable expression painted his face.

“Careful, babe,” he teased, his voice deep and throaty as he leaned toward you. You smiled, your fingers trailing down his body, caressing his firm abs. Water thrashed around you as you leaned closer, peppering soft kisses against his chest.

Sunghoon’s hands stroked your back, the heat between you warming the cold pool. You felt his rapid heartbeat against your lips as you trailed your way back up his neck. You paused, meeting his lust-drunken gaze.

You pressed your lips against his, capturing the taste of the sweet nectar that glazed them, a salty mixture of the water that filled your tastebuds. His hand gently held your hair as he pushed you into him, deepening the kiss. Without thought or hesitation, your teeth lightly clamped on his lower lip, eliciting a soft groan from him. You felt yourself smirk against his lips as blood seeped into your mouth.

“You really want to play?” A murmure escaped his now bloodied lips, his breath brushing against your cold face. “I can bite back, y’know?”

He gripped your waist tight, his strong arms lifting you as you wrapped your legs around his abdomen. The water splashed around your bodies as his lips collided with yours. Every kiss, every caress sent your heart aflame, a desire filled you with hunger for the taste of his lips.

　　𖥔 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 :　@wonsdoll @flwrstqr @mmygnolia @nshmuras @myungsua @kairoot

sin city

pairing: gambler!sunghoon x afab baritsa!reader

requested: no

genre: smut, angst and some fluff (minors dni!!!)

warnings: brief mention of female masturbation, oral (m and f receiving), lowkey exhibitionism and humiliation, spitting, mild face fucking, wax play, protected sex, use of a gag, alcohol consumption, use of drugs (coke + LSD, be safe and don't do drugs), gambling (obv), brief mention of blood, readers boss is kinda yucky and her parents suck

word count: 12.8K

a/n: well... second times the charm 😻 hopefully my tags work this time and again apologies for posting this then deleting it because tumblr was being dumb. i suck at proofreading so if there’s any mistakes let me know. still v nervous to be sharing this w all of you but as always let me know your thoughts, i hope you enjoy (and again, ignore any repeat/messed up paragraphs bc tumblr still has yet to fix that glitch)

this is a work of fiction and is not meant to accurately depict or portray the idols mentioned. photos not mine, credits to original owners (retrieved from pinterest)

fail is such an aggressive word. to fail at something is embarrassing, humiliating, shameful! the self-loathing and unwanted pity from others is what makes failure simply unbearable.

which is why you didn’t tell your parents that you were failing university. you simply told them it was a personal choice; you were dropping out.

at first they were confused, and thought you were planning on transferring to school elsewhere, or just taking a gap year to focus on something else. travel, self discovery, mental health, time with family. so you fed into that lie, and told them that come september you’d be out of their hair embarking on an adventure to further your development. it was hard - being dishonest to your parents, keeping up the facade - but you had no intention of telling them that you failed out of school. they would never be the wiser.

that was until you made the mistake of leaving your laptop open on your desk with your entire academic record on display. your mom was vacuuming, and decided to take a peek at the screen.

to say they were upset was an understatement. 

it took a few days for them to hold an actual conversation with you, choosing to spare you the occasional glance and incoherent mumbling to show their disapproval at your poor academic performance.

one night at dinner you blew up.

“i don’t know why you’re making this such a big deal! yes, i failed university. so what?! does that make me a bad person??”

you didn’t expect them to say much, but when they didn’t say anything while staring at their half-eaten dinner plants your heart sank. sure, your family had always valued academic excellence, but you didn’t think it was this serious.

the void of silence is filled with the scraping sound of your chair sliding against the linoleum floor, announcing your departure from the table.

when you get to your room you slam the door, cry, then fall asleep on the floor.

you’re woken up a few hours later by the sounds of your parents getting ready to go to bed. there are hushed whispers outside of your door, and you hear your dad ask if he should check on you. seconds later, the hallway light turns off and you hear the door to your parent’s room close.

your hips and shoulders start to ache as you lay on your hardwood floor, but you find no motivation to pick yourself up. since you hadn’t closed your blind, your room had turned a shade of deep blue, courtesy of the moon. pushing yourself up into a seated position, your eyes scan the contents of your room, and you can’t help but reminisce.

the stuffed bear you refused to sleep without when you were 8, the wilted corsage you wore to prom, the laptop you wrote all of your university assignments on before dropping out - ouch, too soon.

a gust of wind passes through your open window and flutters the string of polaroids you have tacked up to your wall. one is of your old family cat. one is of you after you graduated high school. your favourite one is of soojin in front of a twilight sky, a half-empty cooler in her hand.

you had met soojin in 10th grade bio, when both of you were partnerless on frog dissection day and had to team up. the entire 75 minute period consisted of you doing all the work while soojin squealed in disgust.

after that you were practically attached at the hip.

the night before you moved to university you and soojin snuck onto the roof of your high school using your janitors janky old ladder. you sat on foldable lawn chairs and drank and laughed and cried while talking about your place in the world.

“sometimes i wish i was a cat,” you confessed, and soojin laughed.

“a cat? why?”

“life would be so simple. i’d sleep all day and get head scratches and food.”

“that’s fair.”

a siren wailed somewhere in the distance. the traffic lights in the intersection across from your school changed. a late summer breeze ruffled your hair.

“i’m gonna move to las vegas.”

you turned to look at soojin, and she looked back at you.

“when?”

“i don’t know… sometime in the near future,” she took a sip of her drink before she continued, “i’ve never been set on going to post-secondary so i might as well.”

you nodded, “why vegas though?”

“it’s a part of my fantasy.”

“what’s your fantasy?”

she shifts in her chair so she’s facing you, an enthusiastic glint now present in her eyes. 

“i’m gonna move to vegas, spend some time working at some fancy upscale casino or bar or club or whatever. then, i’ll make a hot rich person fall in love with me, we’ll get married on the strip, and then i’ll never have to work a day in my life again!”

“i mean it sounds great,” you took a sip of your drink, “but aren’t most rich people in vegas like, middle aged men?”

“you got anything against dilfs?”

“touche.”

you weren’t surprised when a year or so later soojin told you she was making her fantasy become a reality - she had always been much more of a go-getter than you. 

that didn’t make saying goodbye any easier though. 

at the time you were still living away from home, so you couldn’t even give her a proper send-off. of course she facetimed you as soon as her plane landed, but you would’ve given anything to see her in person before she leaves for who knows how long.

and now, as you lie on the cold hardwood floor of your childhood bedroom, your eyes puffy and itchy from all of the tears you’ve shed, you devise a plan that will allow you to be with your best friend again.

“i’m moving out.”

your parents hardly bat an eye at your announcement.

“where are you going to go?” your dad questions, his eyes leaving his sudoku to look at you momentarily. the way he phrases his sentence makes it sound like he thinks you need your parents, that you have no one else to rely on.

“las vegas. to live with soojin.”

“vegas? but that city’s so… raunchy,” your mother has never been a fan of big cities, specifically ones known for dancing and gambling and drinking and flamboyance.

“well, that’s where i’m going and when i get there i’m gonna find an apartment and get a job. i don’t know when i’ll be back, my plane leaves in a couple of hours.”

there’s silence, an exchanged glance between the two of them, and then your dad mumbles “whatever makes you happy.”

assuming that this conversation is now over, you make your way upstairs to continue packing before your big move.

as much as you wanted to surprise soojin and show up unannounced, you're also somewhat relying on her to help you find a job and a place to stay - and she came through. it just so happened that the lucky cat - a popular upscale casino that soojin’s been working at for the past few years  - is looking for a couple more floor staff to help with the hectic summer season.

in addition to that, there are tons of apartment vacancies since all of the university of nevada students have gone home for the summer - soojin said you can crash at her place until you sign a lease.

your extremely last minute plan to move thousands of miles away from home has somehow worked entirely in your favour. fingers crossed for no last minute curve balls!

you opt to leave the majority of your belongings behind; you don’t have much in terms of keepsakes anyway. one of your suitcases is filled with clothes, the other with personal items, and your backpack with all of your important possessions.

when the time on your clock reads 3:00 pm, you call for a taxi and make your way downstairs. 

you give your parents stiff unnatural hugs before your taxi pulls up outside and you load all of your luggage into the trunk. your mom looks like she wants to say something but refrains. the cab driver pulls away, and you watch your childhood home along with your parents turn into mere specks in the distance.

airport security is a breeze - you just have to avoid all of the sloppy unorganised tourists who have no idea what they’re doing. by the time you board your flight it’s dusk, and you stare at the various shades of blues, pink and purples staining the sky as your plane streaks down the runway and lifts off.

for the majority of the flight you sleep, knowing that when you land you’ll go right to soojin’s place and she’ll likely want to give a grand tour of the strip. besides, who doesn’t want to explore on their first night in a new city?

the jolt of the plane touching the ground is what wakes you some time later. the view outside your window is dark, and the vegas airport slowly comes into sight as the airplane continues down the runway. you wait until the seatbelt sign is turned off before grabbing your carry-on bag and exiting the aircraft. 

after claiming the rest of your luggage at the baggage carousel, you make your way outside and inhale your first breath of vegas air. it’s warm outside, and somewhat humid, but it makes you feel alive. 

hailing a cab, you toss your belongings in the trunk and recite soojin’s apartment address from where you wrote it down in your phone to the driver. he puts the cab into drive, and you watch the harry reid airport get further and further away as you’re escorted into the city that you now call home.

through the window of the taxi you stare in awe at the dozens upon dozens of clubs, casino’s, bars and hotels lining the roads. every building and sign is lit up by thousands of lights in all colours of the rainbow, enticing visitors to enter and blow ungodly amounts of money in one night. the streets are teeming with eager party people dressed in sequins and suits who’s night’s are just beginning.

so this is how miley felt in party in the usa. she’s so real for that.

the drive isn’t long, just over 10 minutes, and your heart flips in your chest when your taxi comes to a halt outside of soojin’s apartment complex. you grab your belongings form the trunk before paying your driver and 

while in the elevator you feel yourself getting more and more nervous with each passing second. will soojin act differently? will she look different? do you look different? sure the two of you facetime every other day, but nothing compares to seeing someone in person.

you're forced out of your thoughts when the elevator stops, letting you know that you’ve arrived at your designated floor. you lug your bags down the hallway and with a shaky hand you knock on soojin’s door. inside you hear erratic footsteps before the door in front of you swings open.

“AHHHHHH YOU BITCH YOU’RE HERE!!!!”

before you can say anything in response, all of the air is sucked out of your lungs as soojin captures you in a bone crushing hug, causing you to scream in excitement (and slight discomfort).

the two of you do a semi-awkward jump hug in soojin’s doorway and rejoice after not having seen each other in years. while lugging your suitcase into soojin’s living room you do your best to catch up with each other. she raves about her job and you bitch about your parents while you get settled.

“i hope you slept well on the plane, because our night is just about to start!” soojin shouts before disappearing into her bedroom, “now change into something slutty!”

once you’ve fixed your hair and makeup and change into an outfit deemed ‘vegas-worthy’ by soojin, she grabs you by the arm and drags you out of her apartment. “time for soojin’s unofficial tour of the strip!”

the sidewalks are even busier than they were when you were driven through here not too long ago, and you find yourself just narrowly escaping head-on collisions with other tourists and locals.

“ooh let’s go in here!” soojin’s nails dig into the pulse point on your wrist and you rush to keep up with her, flashing your i.d and paying an entry fee before being let into a two-story club with flashing purple and green strobe lights.

a drag queen in a bright orange wig is turning it out on the small wooden stage, but soojin drags you into the nearest bathroom before you can watch any more of her performance. 

once the two of you are in a stall and the door is locked behind you, soojin whips out a small compact mirror and a baggie of powder from her purse. you hand her your i.d which she uses to make several thin white lines, and then digs through her purse to find a pre-rolled $1 bill - which she passes to you.

you try to ignore the slight sting in your nostril as you do your first line off of the small pocket mirror, and you pass the bill over to soojin. the walls and floor of the bathroom stall start to waver as the coke kicks in almost instantaneously, and you laugh because it looks like soojin’s eyeballs are melting out of their sockets. you do a few more lines before exiting the stall with soojin following behind you.

the two of you make your way onto the dance floor that’s sticky with spilled drinks and lose yourself to music by lady gaga, beyonce, rihanna, and britney. it feels like your limbs have turned to jelly and you can’t stop laughing and dancing with your best friend. at some point your nose starts bleeding which you only realise once it’s dripped down your lips and you can taste the metallic tang in your mouth.

you hop from bar to bar and club to club, and soojin tells you stories about each one of them. “this is the club where i lost my shoes, and this is the bar where i fell off a stool, and this is the club where…” it doesn’t stop.

once your coke-induced high starts to wane you turn to alcohol, sucking back one too many lemon drops than one should. at this point of the night your feet have several blisters and your hair is stuck to the nape of your neck with sweat, but you’re too intoxicated to care. it’s been so long since you’ve had fun, since you’ve felt so… carefree. it’s euphoric, to say the least.

when you and soojin finally decide to call it a night you step outside and take a deep inhale. compared to the hot and stuffy interior of clubs, even the polluted vegas air is a relief. in the east you see a tinge of yellow in the sky as the sun begins to welcome a new day, and you stumble your way back home.

it’s july, and you’ve officially been living in vegas for a month. the past few weeks have been hectic but fun, and you’d forgotten how much you missed being around soojin. you spent the first couple of days recovering from your night out by lounging on her couch, before deciding to get your shit together and meet with her boss at the lucky cat casino.

the interview was strangely simple, and entailed your soon-to-be boss scanning your resume before asking if you knew how to make any mixed drinks, to which you responded: “uh… i can make a vodka cran?”

you were hired on the spot (red flag, but whatever) and the next day soojin showed you the ropes. luckily it’s a relatively easy position, with a ton of other floor staff around to help you if you’re ever in a pinch.

after securing a job you sign a lease for a small studio apartment in a complex a couple minutes away from soojin’s; the rent isn’t ideal but it’s not horrible and with the leftover money you saved for uni as well as your cash flow from the casino you make it work. 

throughout the entirety of the month you’ve spoken to your parent’s once. your mom called out of the blue, perhaps in an attempt to rekindle your mother-daughter relationship, but it didn’t go very well.

“so how’s california?”

“what?”

“cali? aren’t you in los angeles?”

“no mom, i’m in las vegas… you know, nevada.”

“oh… right.”

you hung up shortly after, and didn’t plan on calling back anytime soon. sure, maybe you were being dramatic, but so were they. 

today you’re scheduled for your regular evening shift, but your boss asked you to come in early for a one on one meeting about your work performance. when you get there he’s leaning against a wall waiting for you, curling his finger in a ‘come hither’ motion to get you to to follow him into his office.

“so,” your boss starts, straddling a flimsy plastic chair so as to make it seem like this is a conversation between two friends and not a manager and his employee.

“you’ve officially been working here for a month, so we’re through your probation period,” he sighs deeply before continuing, “and your performance… has not been great.”

fuck fuck fuck!! this is it. you’re fired, done for! what are you going to do now? you can’t go home, will you be able to even find another job in vegas??

“y/n, i’m not firing you.”

oh. that’s good.

“you just need to be more appealing to customers to bring in more revenue.”

appealing? is he calling you unattractive? you furrow your brows in scepticism “okay… how should i do that?”

your boss takes a second, eyes you suspiciously, then asks: “do you want me to be blunt?”

you nod, so he continues.

“stop dressing like a prude. show some skin.”

“excuse me?”

“i hate to break it to you, but that’s what sells these days,” he grunts while getting up from his chair, a clear sign that this conversation is over.

“but-” 

“don’t take it personally y/n. just loosen up a bit, okay?”

and with that he leaves, the large steel door swinging shut behind him. with every second you spend sitting alone in the messy, humid office of your manager your self-confidence gets smaller and smaller, like a balloon, until it’s all shrivelled up; seemingly non-existent. you go through the entirety of your shift with your head hung low. 

it’s past midnight when you get back to your apartment that smells like paint and old chinese takeout. the advice - command? - that your boss gave to you bounces around in your brain like a ping pong ball.

you finger yourself in the shower before going to bed.

it’s an egg kind of morning.

some mornings are pancake or french toast or waffle mornings; when you’re feeling more lavish and want to indulge yourself. busy days are reserved for cereal or yogurt and granola, when you just need to fuel yourself and get out of the door.

egg days are in between days. you have enough time this morning to make a semi-decent breakfast, so you do. poached eggs - the kind where you put them on a piece of toast with some shredded cheese and then pop the yolks with the tip of your butterknife before watching the golden liquid pool on your plate.

you get half-way through the dish before you feel like puking, remembering why egg days aren’t common.

chucking the rest of your breakfast in the compost, you get ready for the day. the dry-erase calendar you have tacked onto the wall by your front door reminds you that you don’t have work until later this evening; so it’s settled.

today will be a day of reinvention. 

there’s much to be done, so you pull on your fanciest casual outfit and head out. 

the vegas strip is somewhat busy today - but then again when is it not. nighttime is when the city comes alive. clubs and casinos and theatre’s showcasing snuff films all open their doors for the mature population, providing them with enough alcohol to make their brains go fuzzy until they wake up having no clue what happened. 

daytime is when the streets are packed with tourists and their obnoxious children darting between the mandalay bay aquarium, the discovery museum and the hershey’s store. which is why you try not to leave your apartment before the families on vacation retire to their hotels for the night. but today, you make an exception.

the sun beats down on your aching shoulders the second you step out of your apartment, and you mentally slap yourself when you remember that you forgot to put on sunscreen. 

when you arrive at your first destination, an upscale salon that soojin recommended to you on your first night out, you bask in the AC before they call your name.

you splurge and get your eyebrows, legs and bikini line waxed. when your aesthetician is finished, you’re whisked away into a cushioned white chair in front of a white desk in a room with white walls and white floors. you get dark red acrylics, long enough to be sexy but not so long that they impact your ability to work. if your mom saw you right now she’d say you look like a hooker. once you’re finished at the salon, you head out to spend more money.

multiple shopping bags filled with skimpy thongs, lacy bras and sheer black pantyhose hang off of your arms as you make your way around the strip mall closest to your apartment. you vow to toss your old electric toothbrush before buying an actual vibrator, one that can give you much better orgasms. with each purchase your worry of your card being maxed out increases, so you decide to call it quits.

once your spa day has come to an end you head back to your shoebox apartment, picking up some tofu pad thai on the way. you binge watch peaky blinders while waiting until you need to leave for your shift, self-doubt coursing through your veins.

“you look different.”

spinning on your heel in the employees only room at work, you come face to face with soojin.

“good different or bad different?”

“good, definitely good. you look hot.”

“thanks,” your face heats up, “boss told me to loosen up to make more cash, so i’m glad it didn’t go unnoticed.”

she rolls her eyes, “it’s the unfortunate truth. here, this is my secret weapon.”

her hand slips into her mint green baguette purse, fishes around for a couple seconds, before pulling something out and placing it in your palm. it’s cold; metal.

“works like a charm~” she sing-songs before making her way back to the staff-only room to get ready for her shift.

in your palm you can feel something long and rectangular but with rounded edges; a tube of lipstick. chanel rouge allure #117 - or cuivre. red. sparkly. sexy.

in the employee’s only bathroom you stare at your reflection in the mirror before popping the top off of the tube of lipstick. it glides onto your lips  with ease, and you stare at your reflection in the dimly lit bathroom. you look pretty. after ensuring that no lipstick made its way onto your teeth, you head out and start your shift.

the casino is decently busy tonight, so the first time you have a chance to talk to soojin again is when you both end up behind the bar at the same time.

“how are the tips tonight? i bet they’re just rolling in now that you look like a skank.”

you laugh while measuring out some white rum to add to a customer’s mojito, “i’m not complaining!”

soojin finishes straining her cosmopolitan before leaning into you, “do you want me to let you in on another one of my secrets?”

you nod. who doesn’t want tips on how to make more money?

“younger people always tip better. once someone’s above 40 it’s like a flip switches in their brain and they have some kind of entitlement that makes them less likely to tip. so, if a group of 20 or 30-something’s come in, snag ‘em.”

“i mean that makes sense,” you continue mixing drinks while you talk, “but practically every customer in here is a middle aged white man.”

“not everyone,” soojin says while pointing at a table to your left, where a frequent customer with a beer gut and a bald spot is sitting playing poker.

“... mr. creole? but he’s like 70..”

“what? no, not him!” soojin places a perfectly manicured finger on your jaw and slightly turns your head further to the left, your gaze landing on a baccarat table at the back of the room, “them.”

there, a group of 4 men in slacks and white dress shirts rolled up at the sleeves are huddled together while the dealer places chips and cards on the table. the one gambling is seated across from the dealer while the other 3 are huddled around him, clearing hyping him up to win big.

“you see the tallest one?” soojin practically whispers into your ear, “that’s heeseung. he doesn’t gamble too much, mostly he’s there for moral support.”

soojin’s right, he is tall. i mean they all are, but his body is like 70% leg. you watch as heeseung laughs at whatever one of his friends says before checking his watch, clearly not wanting to stay much longer. 

“the one on his left is jake, and the one beside him is jay. they gamble sometimes, usually black jack or the slot machines, but i think they mostly come for the drinks - and the girls.” 

jake and jay definitely seem the most excited to be there; they’re both leaning over their gambling friend’s shoulder whispering excitedly, undoubtedly telling him to go all in or whatever the proper term is - you still don’t know much about gambling.

“the guy in the middle is sunghoon,” your eyes fall upon the man in the centre of the group, “he’s like the best of the best.”

you watch as his ring clad fingers dart across the felted surface of the table, flipping cards and picking up chips as if it’s second nature to him. upon closer inspection you notice his features are quite leporine; sharp brows, poignant nose, nice white teeth that are revealed when he laughs at something his friend says.

“he plays anything and everything here,” soojin starts while staring at sunghoon like you are, “roulette, blackjack, three-card poker, but he’s the best at baccarat - specifically baccarat chemin de fer.”

your brain short circuits, “listen, i know jack shit about gambling, so none of that really means anything to me.”

soojin laughs at your bluntness, “basically he’s super rich and super lucky… and hot, but you don’t need to know anything about gambling to see that.”

sounds like your kind of man.

“how do you know so much about them?” 

“i’m their usual server,” soojin starts, and then a mischievous look appears in her eyes, “do you wanna help me?”

“what, like right now?”

“i mean, yea.” 

you stare at her blankly, “i don’t know i mean i’m still pretty new here and i don’t know what i’m doing and-”

“oh come on y/n you are a chronic overthinker, let’s go!” and with that she’s dragging you across the casino to where the 4 men are seated.  soojin begins conversing with the table and you stand behind her awkwardly, palms sweaty and knees about to buckle. it’s not everyday that you’re surrounded by a group of 4 tall, rich, attractive guys. while soojin interacts with her usual customers, you cower behind her like a scared child, waiting for her to loop you into the conversation.

“and this,” she grabs you by your elbow and pulls you forward, “is y/n, my best friend and coworker.” you wave awkwardly, and they all wave back.

it’s times like this when you’re reminded that soojin’s a natural at her job, whereas you on the other hand are not. she immediately begins to converse with her regulars, leaving you standing off to the side before you make awkward eye contact with sunghoon. you realise that now would be a good time to actually do your job.

“uh, is there anything i can get you to drink?”

“sure!” he smiles at you, and he really does have a nice smile, “can i get a m-” 

you know those cheesy movie scenes where the protagonist finally meets the love of their life and suddenly everything around them is tinted pink and moving in slo-mo? this feels exactly like that. you try to listen to what sunghoon is saying but all you can focus on is his icy blond hair, his perfect skin, his deep brown eyes (that you notice darting to your lips on more than one occasion - thank you soojin!)

you force yourself to tune back in to real time when you realise he’s stopped talking, and then mentally slap yourself because you just missed his entire order spare for the first letter being ‘m’.

too stubborn to say something, you just nod with a smile and head back towards the bar while racking your brain for every single cocktail starting with the letter m. a milk & honey seems too niche, a moscow mule too intense, and a mai tai too fruity. so you settle on a well-known ‘m’ cocktail: margarita. a classic! who doesn’t love margarita’s? (hopefully not sunghoon).

you get to business salting the rim of your glass and mixing the tequila and lime juice while making sure that this is the prettiest fucking margarita you’ve ever made. when you’re finished, you take a deep breath and head back over to the baccarat table where soojin is still talking to jay, jake and heeseung.

beside them, sunghoon is waiting patiently for his drink, and you place it in front of him on the velvet tabletop.

“oh, uh…” he stares at the drink you hand him with confusion. fuck, his ‘m’ cocktail wasn’t a margarita. 

panic begins to kick in, and you contemplate pulling the ‘i’m new here’ card, “sorry, is that not what you ordered?”

“no, it was a martini… you know, like james bond?”

of course it was a fucking martini you dipshit! literally the drink of choice for all men who like to fantasise that they’re a world famous spy.

sunghoon probably notices you panicking, “but it’s ok! i like margaritas too.”

“no, let me get you what you actually ordered!” 

“no really it’s fine-” sunghoon starts, but you’ve already began to weave through the other tables. when your out of view of any customers you actually slap yourself. you just embarrassed yourself in front of the hottest guy in the whole casino! great, your life is over. 

you try to ignoring the heat rushing to your face while straining sunghoon’s martini and then head back to that baccarat table for the third time in the past 5 minutes, apologising profusely while handing the man in question his actual order. he smiles before handing you a $20, which you slip into your work apron.

“should i give this back to you then?” he holds up the margarita you made, beads of condensation already rolling down the side of the glass.

“keep it, it’s on the house.” you smile, and leave the table for good.

“that’s it, i have to quit now.” you whine to soojin once you’re both behind the bar again.

“what happened? i thought it went well.” soojin questions while shaking a long island iced tea.

“i messed up his fucking order dude. i embarrassed myself!” you hide your head in your hands and huff in frustration.

“come on y/n that’s not the end of the world! and sunghoon’s a nice guy, i’m sure he understands that you were just so enthralled with his beauty you couldn’t focus on what he was saying.”

you sock her in the shoulder, and then cringe because that’s exactly what happened. and when your shift ends at the early hours of the morning, sunghoon is all you’re thinking about.

apparently you’d been on sunghoon’s mind too, because the second you get to work the next day soojin is excitedly dragging you back into the employees only room. there, a gorgeous bouquet made of peruvian lilies, delphinium, and baby’s breath is sitting on the table, a thick, off-white card tied to the stems. it reads:

y/n,

will you let me see you again? 

3600 S Las Vegas Blvd, 11:00 pm. 

i’ll have someone pick you up.

p.sh

“signed p.sh? who’s that?”

“that’s sunghoon you numbskull! he’s asking you out on a date!”

you bend down to smell the bouquet made for you, “it’s not a date soojin, he just wants to see me.”

“yea, and he clearly has romantic intentions, hence the flowers!” she dramatically motions to the bouquet, “in my books that qualifies as a date, but to each their own.”

throughout your shift your nerves are piqued; you try to chalk it up to the humidity or the fact that you accidentally spilled a rum and coke on a well-paying customer, but in the back of your brain you know it's because of sunghoon.

when the time comes for your shift to be over you rush to the bathroom to attempt to spruce yourself up after having worked for almost 8 hours. you finger-comb your hair and swipe on some deodorant before applying a fresh coat of the lipstick soojin gave you - since sunghoon kept staring at your lips last night surely he’d appreciate you wearing it again.

stepping out of the lucky cat, you try not to audibly gasp as the stunning white rolls royce ghost that’s waiting for you at the curb, hazards blinking. so sunghoon’s rich rich, got it. suddenly your attire feels extremely lacklustre. 

“y/n?” a bearded man with big hands calls out to you from the driver's seat.

“that’s me.” you slide into one of the smooth leather seats, close the door behind you, and hope that you’re not being driven to your doom.

“you’re late,” he jokes, “4 minutes to be exact.” 

sunghoon’s standing on the sidewalk right where his driver drops you off. he’s dressed similarly to how he was when you saw him last night, slacks and a button up even though it’s the middle of the summer.

“don’t blame me, blame your driver.”

he smirks and raises an eyebrow as if to say touche, and he sticks his elbow out for you to loop your arm through - so you do. the two of you walk in tandem and you scan your surroundings to try to figure out where sunghoon’s brought you. a vast pool of water catches your eye not too far away from you and something clicks in your brain - the bellagio, of course! only now the water’s at a standstill since the magnificent fountain only goes off every fifteen minutes.

“do you bring all of the girls you meet here?”

“what, to the bellagio? no way, only the real special ones.”

“what makes me so special then?”

“i don’t know, you seem… charismatic? and you’re funny, i like that.”

“funny because i messed up your drink order?”

“i mean, kinda! it just makes you seem more… human.” he shrugs while shoving his hands in his pockets. “don’t tell soojin i said that though.”

you laugh, and then bring a finger up to your lips in a shushing motion.

“so,” sunghoon stops walking so the two of you are standing on the sidewalk with a perfect view of the bellagio, “how long have you been in vegas?”

you do quick math in your head, “just over a month. i moved here after i… flunked university.”

“oh, that’s rough” he grimaces before smiling coyly, “your turn.”

“my turn? for what?”

“ask me a question.”

“okay, uhhh,” is asking where he gets all of his money from rude? possibly, so you ask him: “how do you gamble?”

sunghoon looks at you with confusion, before chuckling softly. that was definitely a dumb question. “what do you mean?”

“like the card games and stuff! i don’t get it.”

“but you work at a casino.”

“i make drinks at a casino, i don’t have anything to do with the games.”

he raises his hands in defence. “well, all of the card games are different, but my favourite is probably baccarat - black jack is fun too, though. anyways, the main goal of baccarat is to get as close to nine as possible. you start by betting chips on either the player or the banker, and then the dealer draws two cards for both of them. the cards are flipped over and whoever’s closer to nine wins, but you don’t want to go over a score of nine. you can also bet on a tie, a banker pair, and a player pair… are you following me?”

“nuh uh.”

he gives up trying to explain, “basically you throw some cards and chips on a table and win money.”

the two of you sit in silence for a moment, with sunghoon staring at the water in front of him - likely thinking of a question to ask you since he’s the one who started this little game.

“do you have any wishes?”

confusion evident on your face, your turn to look at him.

“because if you do, this would be the place to make one.” he gestures to the bellagio, 

it’s then that he reaches into his pocket and pulls out 2 silver coins - nickels. he keeps one for himself, then places the other in the palm of your hand. 

you watch as he turns to face the fountain, his side profile lit up by the warm glow from the white lights in the water. his eyes close and his brows furrow for just a moment, and then he tosses his coin into the fountain.

“what did you wish for?”

“if i tell you it won’t come true.” he stares at you, his eyes catching the glow from the lights of the nearby hotel. “your turn,” he repeats for the second time tonight.

you follow in his footsteps, closing your eyes while making a wish and tossing your coin into the fountain. when you open your eyes, you swear sunghoon’s closer to you than he was before.

before you can come up with a witty response, a dramatic whoosh! sounds and you look beside you to see that the water show has begun. an amazing display of lights and aquatics plays out before your eyes as the fountains erupt in synchronisation, creating a dazzling and unforgettable display.

“pretty.”

you’re about to agree, only until you realise that sunghoon’s focus is on you, not the fountain. his eyes are glossy and he smells of bergamot and sage, and you finally get to live in that rom-com moment when he leans in and presses his lips against yours. 

his lips are plump but slightly chapped, and you struggle to keep your balance with the way he’s leaning into you. after several moments he pulls away and you almost chase after his lips, that is until you hear the ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs’ from other spectators, reminding you that you are in fact in public and the people surrounding you probably don’t want to see you and sunghoon devouring each other. 

a sour expression makes its way onto sunghoons face, and he grabs your hand before nodding in the direction that you came from - a clear indication that he wants to get out of here.

the two of you find his car in idle on a semi-busy side street and you both slip into the back; initially you had planned on leaving the middle seat empty to separate the two of you, but sunghoon wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you beside him. you tell sunghoon’s chauffeur your address, and he nods before rolling up the partition to give the two of you some privacy and taking off down the busy road of the strip.

“you know you made my wish come true back there.”

“what, when i asked you to teach me the art of gambling?”

he bites his lower lip to abstain from laughing before teasingly pushing your shoulder, “you know what i mean.”

“was it when i did this?” in a bold move (for you), you grasp his jaw with your acrylic nails and kiss him with much more lust and passion than you did in front of the bellagio. his hand instantaneously moves up to cup the side of your face, and you manage to pull a quiet moan from him at the suddenness of your actions. 

his teeth nip at your bottom lip gently and your mouths move in tandem with each other, both of you acting as if the other is your only source of oxygen that you can’t pull away from. you slip your tongue past his teeth and lips and into his mouth, where you can slightly taste the spearmint gum he spit out before the two of you got back into his car. a desperate whine escapes your throat when he pulls away from you.

“open your mouth,” you comply, “good girl.”

in one swift motion he spits into your open mouth, and you feel his saliva glide down your tongue to the back of your throat. you close your mouth and swallow. sunghoon keeps his grip on your jaw, allowing his thumb to caress your cheek before swiping it across your bottom lip in a silent plea to let him in. you take his thumb in your mouth, his eyes trained on the way your puffy lips are wrapped around his digit. a string of saliva connects his thumb to your lips when he pulls his hand away, and in the dim lighting you catch a glimpse of your sparkly red lipstick smeared across his knuckle. 

when you stop at a red light his hand wraps around the back of your neck and he kisses you again; in your head you thank whatever higher power there is above that the car’s windows are tinted, so no curious outsider could peek in and see what the two of you are up to.

deciding to test the waters, you sneak your hand down his torso to the waistline of sunghoon’s pants, hesitating slightly before reaching out to palm his crotch through his clothes. the action causes his hips to jerk slightly, and he places his own clammy hand on top of yours to guide you as you massage his cock through his slacks. 

a metallic clink! reverberates off of the inside of the car as you unbuckle your seatbelt and somewhat sprawl your upper body across sunghoon’s lap; your hands gripping this thighs to stabilise yourself with your face only mere centimetres away from his clothed erection. noticing that you’re in a bit of an awkward position, sunghoon takes the initiative to unbutton his pants, inch them down just a little, and pull his cock out.

lengthwise he’s definitely above average, and his tip is flushed red and leaking beads of precum already. he sticks his palm out and you spit in it, watching like a hawk as he uses your saliva as lube to pump himself a few times before sitting back and letting you steal the show.

you playfully lick his tip, as if to taunt him that you could do more, but you don’t really feel like it. his thighs twitch underneath your hands, so you finally relent and wrap your lips around sunghoon’s cock, feeling him squirm in pleasure above you. 

with one hand he’s gripping the door handle, his hold so tight that his knuckles have turned a ghastly shade of white. with the other he’s gripping the back of your neck, clearly trying to refrain from shoving your head to the base of his dick - so you do it yourself, and take his entire length into your mouth.

the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat and you can’t help but gag, and sunghoon hisses when you dig your nails into his pant clad thigh.

“keep it down,” he groans, “unless you want my chauffeur to hear you gagging on my cock.” 

an involuntary whine escapes you, and your hips shift in your seat. you can hear the smugness in his voice when he says: “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you continue to deepthroat him in the back of his car, trying not to gag or cough too loudly when the vehicle goes over a pothole or a bump in the road and his cock is shoved deeper than you’re expecting. each and every time his tip bumps the back of your throat you swallow around him, trying to suck back the mix of spit and precum that threatens to spill past your lips.

“fuck y/n,” a dull thud sounds as sunghoon lolls his head against the headrest behind him, “feels so fucking good.” the hand on the back of your neck starts to help guide your ministrations, and his hips start to buck up ever so lightly into your mouth.

you can tell sunghoon’s close to finishing by the way his moans get louder and more desperate, and you’re tempted to pull your mouth off of his cock and call him out for being a hypocrite for telling you to be quiet not too long ago. nevertheless, you persevere and continue to suck him off, allowing him to roll his hips up into your face.

at this point your hips and legs are cramping up and your jaw is aching from having been open for so long, so you let sunghoon take complete control and allow him to fuck your mouth until he cums, which is only a few moments later.

he finishes with a guttural groan before spilling his seed down your bruised throat; you try not to grimace at the taste before swallowing obediently. pulling yourself off of his cock, you use your thumb to wipe the spit and semen off of the corners of your mouth, and you sit back and watch sunghoon tuck himself back into his pants while trying to catch his breath.

the car shakes slightly as sunghoon’s driver accidentally bumps into the curb, and when you look outside the tinted car window you find that you’ve arrived at your apartment building. perfect timing.

being the gentleman that he is, sunghoon offers to walk you to your door - and who are you to say no. although you find a feeling of self-consciousness creeping up on you, what with your apartment being so drab in comparison to just about every aspect of sunghoon’s life. you try to push those negative thoughts away as you step out of the elevator and unlock your apartment door.

“i like it!” sunghoon preaches as he stands in your entryway, looking around as you toss your keys onto the kitchen counter. you give him a sarcastic side-eye. “i’m serious! it’s… cozy.”

you make your way over to where he’s standing, and he smirks as you press your chest against his, one of his arms snakes around your waist. your tummy flutters as he presses one, two, three chaste kisses to your pouted lips.

“goodnight, sunghoon.”

you move to close the door, but he suddenly objects and sticks his arm out to block your actions.

“wait! y/n i’d uh… i’d really like to see you again. maybe tomorrow night, i-if that’s ok with you of course?”

it’s in this moment that you can finally see this rich playboy facade start to crack. it prides you to see that the man whose dick you just sucked in the back of a car minutes ago has been reduced to a flustered stuttering mess because of you. cute. 

“i think i can make that work.”

“ok! that’s great, i’ll send someone to come pick you up maybe around, uhh 8:00 pm? is that ok?”

you nod, “it’s a date.”

his eyes widen at this, and before he has time to respond you close your front door.

ding dong!

what the fuck? who on earth is at your door this early in the morning? ugh, it’s probably the delivery guy. if you ignore him then he’ll just drop off your package and fuck off. 

ding dong ding dong ding dong!!!!

you sigh in frustration and pull yourself out of bed seeing as whoever’s at your door doesn’t seem to be going away anytime soon. opening your door just a crack, you see soojin standing there with a plastic bag in her hand.

“i brought waffles!” she announces before inviting herself into your apartment and sitting at the island in your kitchen. she opens up the plastic bag she brought and pulls out two take out containers of waffles, two drinks, and lots of syrup and butter. “come, sit. eat.”

grabbing cutlery from the drawer in your kitchen, you nonchalantly rub the sleep out of your eyes while making your way over to her, “why are you here so early?”

“dude, it’s noon,” she shoots you a judgemental glare, “and i’m here because i want to know all about your little date last night!” 

“i would hardly call it a date,” your mouth is stuffed with waffle so your words come out choked. you know that if you tell soojin what actually happened with sunghoon last night, she's going to make it a way bigger deal than it is. 

“you’re lying to me.”

“what? no i’m not.”

“yes you are y/n. i’ve known you for years and can instantly recognize the way you scrunch your nose and refuse to make eye contact when you’re lying to me.”

shit. she’s got you there.

“ok fine! he took me to the bellagio, we kissed and then,” you huff and roll your eyes, “isuckedhisdickinthebackofhiscar…”

“YOU WHAT??!! oh my god y/n this is crazy!! i can’t believe you’re getting it on with a hot rich guy!”

“we are not getting it on, he just likes me,” you stare at your waffles, “and he invited me to his place for dinner tonight.”

soojin chokes on her drink, “what the fuck!!?? why didn’t you tell me! we need to go pick out what you’re going to wear.” and with that she practically jumps up from where he’s sitting and heads into your bedroom. when you hear drawers being flung open and hangers clattering to the floor you decide to do damage control and head into your bedroom before soojin destroys it. 

some time later, the two of you settle on a basic black satin slip dress and knee high go-go boots.

“come on, let's do your makeup.” soojin excitedly starts to scan your vanity.

“dude it’s literally one in the afternoon, he’s not picking me up until eight.”

she looks defeated at first, but then turns to you with a smile, “cillian murphy movie marathon while we pass the time?”, and who are you to say no to that.

it’s around 6:30 pm when red lights finishes, and you decide you should start getting ready. in the shower you do the works - shaving, exfoliating, washing, scrubbing - and when you step out it feels like you have a whole new layer of squeaky clean skin. soojin pampers you and does your hair and makeup, opting for a subtle yet sexy look.

at 2 minutes to 8:00 pm, you slip on your boots and ask soojin to give you a once-over to make sure everything looks good (it does).

“i’ll be here mooching off of your crave subscription and raiding your fridge. now shoo!” your friend practically kicks you out of your own apartment. when you're halfway down the hallway to the elevator you hear soojin shout: “and if you don’t spend the night there getting railed i’m going to be very disappointed in you!”

the familiar rolls royce ghost is waiting for once again when you exit your apartment. sunghoon’s chauffeur, who you find out is named anthony, asks you what music you’d like to listen to on the drive. you ask for lay all your love on me by ABBA, and slouch in your seat as anthony takes off down the street that’s beginning to light up for the evening crowd.

upon your arrival at sunghoon’s place you see him waiting on the street for you. he’s dressed in a suit and tie, and although he looks phenomenal you’re practically dying to see him in some casual clothes.

“don’t give me shit about being late this time, park.” you taunt as you step out of his car, and anthony drives off. 

“i wasn’t going to! in fact, i told anthony to take his sweet time since he’d be carrying precious cargo.” he pecks your cheek, and you feel heat rush to your ears and the apples of your cheeks.

you step into an elevator that’s the size of your living room, with glass floors, gold buttons and a chandelier. sunghoon reaches a slender finger out and presses the button for the top floor, because of course he lives in a fucking penthouse.

when the golden doors slide open, you're met with a narrow entryway which sunghoon leads you down before opening his front door. “welcome to the park penthouse!” 

glamorous is an understatement when it comes to sunghoon’s living quarters. the ceilings are high and the floors are made of marble that’s so bright it kind of hurts your eyes to look at it directly. you’re not given much time to take it all in before sunghoon’s ushering you into what you can only assume is the living room. three leather couches make a semi-circle around a glass coffee table, all facing a large cobblestone fireplace and massive flatscreen tv. bookshelves stretch to the ceiling on either side of the fireplace, and in the far corner of the room you see a small silver safe, about the size of a microwave, embedded into the wall.

“i didn’t think rich people actually had safe’s in their walls,” you walk over to it, “i thought it was just a thing in movies.” sunghoon laughs at your statement before grasping the metal handle of the safe. he makes no effort to hide the pinpad, so you watch him type in the code and open the hefty metal door. the inside is quite literally something out of a spy movie; it’s filled bricks of cash stacked on top of eachother bound with elastic.

“woah,” you somewhat whisper, “how much is in there?”

sunghoon ponders your question, “couple hundred thousand. it’s my emergency stash. you know, in case i get into a really bad car accident, or - god forbid - lose a real big bet while gambling.”

just looking at the amount of cash is insane to you, and your brain hurts as you think of what you could spend all of that money on. luckily, sunghoon shuts the door, and you hear the lock click. “come on, i have more to show you.”

a long oak table is placed in the centre of the room, decorated with vases filled with flowers and gold candlesticks that hold tall dark red candles. only two spots at the table are set, each having a large silver platter at the centre with a fork and knife one either side. a crystal wine glass is also set to the right-hand side of both seats, filled half-way with dark red cabernet sauvignon.

“i didn’t know you could cook.” you turn to look at sunghoon, whose eyes widen. “oh, i didn’t make anything. i had jay come over to do it all - he’s a really good cook, you know.”

“i guess i’m about to find out.” you pull out one of the chairs at the dining table and sit down, a look of shame briefly flashing across sunghoon’s face as he realises that was his job. nevertheless, he shakes off his nerves and takes the seat across from you. the two of you simultaneously take the silver lid off 

“i was gonna do something fancier like steak,” he scratches the back of his neck, “but i didn’t know if you were a vegetarian… or something.” 

you assure him that it’s fine and that pasta is always your go-to, which seems to ease his nerves. it turns out that sunghoon was right and jay actually is a phenomenal chef; too bad he isn’t here for you to praise him in person. while you shovel pasta into your mouth sunghoon sips his wine and continues to act jittery. you decide it would be best to start up some playful banter since he seemed so comfortable doing that last night.

“i’m sorry, is it like, rude for me to ask where you get all of your money from?” you trace the stem of your wine glass with your finger before picking it up, “it’s just that you’re still fairly young, you know.”

he laughs with his mouth full, swallowing his food before responding, “well, my parents are both doctors who would send me money all the time when i first moved out,” he tentatively picks up his fork, “but then we grew apart so i used what i had from them to start gambling.” he goes to eat but then stops as he remembers something, “i also work at a law firm, but it doesn’t pay nearly as well as what i make from gambling at the lucky cat.”

you nod while dragging your fork through the sauce on your plate. a somewhat eerie silence settles over the two of you, and you’re tempted to say ‘your turn’ to get him to ask you a question like he did to you last night.

“hey, i just wanted to say thanks for last night.” his voice is quiet, and suddenly his half-eaten pasta is more interesting than you, his date, are. 

is he talking about…?

“uh, what part of last night are you thanking me for?” you think you know the answer, but you like seeing him squirm a little.

“come on y/n, don’t make me say it.” he groans and lets his fork clatter against his plate, causing you to laugh.

“i won’t! just teasing.” that same silence falls over the pair of you, but when you peer at sunghoon you can tell he wants to say something else.

“i’d uh,” he chuckles, “i’d like to return the favour, if that’s ok with you.”

oh. oh. 

you try to hide the way you shift in your seat and swallow the nervous lump in your throat; sunghoon’s gaze on you is unwavering.

“right now?”

his pupils seem to darken and dilate at your question - although both of you seem to be in agreeance that it wasn’t a question, and moreso a confirmation. the two of you seem to shove your dishes to the side at the same time, sending silverware clattering to the floor as you crawl across the table and mash your lips against sunghoon’s.

right off the bat this kiss is more desperate and lustful than all of the previous ones you’ve shared. you shift so your sitting with your thighs hanging off of the table, opening your legs briefly to let sunghoon step between them before wrapping them around his waist.

you kiss and bite at his wine-stained lips that taste so tart but so addictive. your hips are flush against his and you can feel that he’s already semi-hard through his pants - no wonder he was so flustered during dinner.

the cool air of sunghoon’s apartment chills you when he lifts your slip dress up and over your shoulders in one swift motion before tossing it to the floor. noticing the goosebumps erupt on your skin, sunghoon nudges your shoulder to get you to lay back against the table. he reaches to his left and grabs a candlestick.

“let me warm you up.”

you watch the muscles and tendons in his wrist flex as he tips the candle ever so slightly, allowing splotches of the dark red wax to drip onto your chest. the hot paraffin stings and burns but also makes you feel warm and excited and so good. sunghoon keeps the candle pointed at your body, making sure the open flame is a safe distance away from your skin. he moves his hand lower, and you jolt slightly when you feel the hot wax make contact with the sensitive skin between your tits.

warmth spreads across your skin as you feel sunghoon make a trail of wax down your stomach, to your belly button, and then stopping at the elastic waistband of your panties. as the wax dries it hardens, tightening your skin underneath it. the initial sting of the heat is gone, in its place a dull burning sensation that has your pulse quickening. 

your vision clouds when sunghoon touches you for the first time, using his middle and ring fingers to massage your cunt through your ruined underwear.

“fuck, you’re already so wet for me. i bet these panties were soaked before you even got here, huh?”

before you can say anything you feel a tug and your hips and hear the ripping of fabric; when you look down, you see sunghoon tossing your now torn thong to the floor. bummer, that was a cute one.

heat rushes to your face as you watch sunghoon scan your nearly naked figure, his eyes feasting on the vast expanse of your bare skin as if you’re the full-course meal he wants for dinner (sorry chef jay). 

he places his searing hot palms on your knees and pries your legs open to expose your dripping wet cunt. you keep your gaze fixed on the ceiling, too worried that if you glance at him while he’s staring at your pussy you’ll become too flustered. the undeniable swish of a jacket being removed can be heard, and when you spare a glance at sunghoon he’s rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt before diving in between your legs.

he doesn’t hesitate a second before diving into you, and you gasp and whine as you feel his tongue exploring your most private area. just the sound of him licking your pussy has your head spiralling, your nails scratching at the varnished countertop of sunghoon’s dining table before you move your hands to grasp at his hair.

your thighs start to burn as you open your legs as wide as you can, giving sunghoon the utmost access to your body. he uses his tongue to toy with your clit before he wraps his lips around it and sucks, shooting bolts of pleasure to every nerve in you.

when he slips his tongue into your hole you hiss and roll your hips into his face. sunghoon groans against you and continues to lick up your essence as if you’re a dripping popsicle on a hot summer day.

through pants and whines you manage to ask him: “do i taste good?”

“fuck, so good honey. the sweetest thing i’ve ever had.”

you scratch at his scalp and tangle your fingers in his hair as he greedily makes out with your sopping cunt, the wet sucking sounds echoing off of the walls of his vast dining room. he directs his focus back to your clit, causing your back to arch and your chest to heave; with every move you make you can feel the dried wax crack and pull at your skin. 

it feels like your skin is burning up as your orgasm approaches, the familiar inferno starting in the very pit of your stomach before spreading across your body like wildfire.

“fuck hoonie!” your cries only seem to spur sunghoon on, and you're so so so close to cumming - before the fire in between your legs is doused when he pulls away.

it feels like you’re the victim of some sick prank, waiting for the camera crew to jump out and scream ‘gotcha!’ while laughing at you lying on sunghoon’s dining table in desperation.

“w-what?” you catch sunghoon’s gaze as he fully stands up, his lips swollen and red and wet. he doesn’t respond, just grabs you by the waist before picking you up bridal style and carrying you further into his penthouse.

your first look at his bedroom is a blur since right after you enter sunghoon tosses you onto his bed. the sheets and pillowcases are navy silk, and it must be king-sized since it’s about triple the size of your twin bed at home.

for a moment you think he’s going to pick up where he left off and dive back into your cunt, but instead he captures your lips in a tender yet searing kiss. you don’t know how to feel about tasting yourself on his lips and tongue; it’s sensual and arousing, but also makes you feel bashful. 

you realise you’re only wearing your go-go boots and your bra - a weird combo, but soon both of them are discarded onto the floor of sunghoon’s bedroom.

the man in question towers above your now completely bare form as you lay sprawled out on the cool sheets of his bed. “you look,” he reaches a veiny hand up to loosen his tie, “so delicious right now.”

that does a number on you.

with little regard to benignity you pop the buttons on sunghoon’s dress shirt open one by one, and then try not to drool as he reveals his bare chest to you for the first time ever. his skin is smooth from his shoulders all the way down to his v-line, and you finally get to see that he has thick biceps (!!!!!).

in one hand he’s still gripping his tie, and you feel impossibly turned on as he crawls on top of you, the box frame creaking slightly under the weight from the two of you. sitting back on his knees, he gives you the same command as yesterday: “open your mouth.” and you do, again.

he places the taught fabric of his tie in your mouth, and you bite down. your face is shoved into the crook of his neck as he leans forward and ties the two ends in a tight knot at the back of your head, creating a gag. leaning back onto his knees once more, he takes a second to admire his masterpiece - you.

“is this,” he takes a second to regain his composure, “is this ok?”

you nod and try to say yes as best as you can, but it comes out as a warbled ‘mah’ due to the makeshift gag restricting your ability to speak as you normally do.

“good. just uh, tap my arm three times if you want me to stop, ok?” you make the same muffled noise in agreement, rubbing your thighs together for some much needed relief as his hands work to unbutton his pants and yank them, along with his boxers, to the floor.

in the dim lighting provided by the lamp on sunghoon’s bedside allows you to appreciate every dip and imperfection of his body, along with the way the veins in his forearms pop out as he reaches into his bedside table to grab a small foil packet.

using his teeth, sunghoon rips open the condom before sliding it onto himself and giving his length a few pumps. his eyes meet yours for a brief second as he positions himself on top of you, the tip of his cock nudging your clit ever so slightly and sending a jolt of pleasure through your veins. 

his cock easily slips into your already-sensitive cunt and you bite down on the tie in your mouth as you and sunghoon moan in tandem, the fabric already becoming wet with your saliva. he sinks his teeth into your neck and you can feel his pointed canines pinch your sensitive skin - maybe he’s a cullen. 

for a moment he just rests there, no doubt regaining his composure so he can fuck you into his mattress. lucky for him, you’re still sensitive after your last orgasm was ripped away from you, so it shouldn’t even take that much effort to make you cum. 

it feels like the world is moving in slow motion when sunghoon finally pulls his hips away from you, just enough so the tip of his cock is still inside your cunt, before pushing himself all the way back in. your hands explore the vast expanse of his toned back, feeling the muscles move and flex as he slowly picks up his pace.

soon his hips are thrusting into yours in a quick but deep motion, his movements so languid and precise your pussy is already slick and throbbing. your clit is begging for attention, and you almost cry when sunghoon eagles his hips just right so his pelvis rubs against it with each grind. the tie gag in your mouth rubs at the corners of your lips and you attempt to whine sunghoon’s name, tell him that you need more.

he throws his head back in ecstasy before burying his face in between your tits, licking at biting at the skin he marked with hot wax not too long ago. “your cunt is just milking my cock, sweetheart. so fucking tight.”

the cavity between your bodies becomes slick with sweat, and the sound of skin slapping against skin is much more prevalent when sunghoon picks up the pace of his thrusts once again. your legs are aching and you yelp as sunghoon grips the flesh of your thigh like it’s a slab of meat. his back is covered in long scratches courtesy of your acrylics and you’re sure your chest is littered with splotchy red marks from his teeth.

the fire deep inside of you is ignited once again, and you try your best to roll your hips upward in time with sunghoon’s movements as you chase your impending orgasm. sunghoon’s moans are equivalent to the pitch they were at when he was about to cum down your throat in the back of his car, only now they’re much louder and guttural without the fear of being caught in the act getting in the way.

when your orgasm finally starts to wash over you it feels like you're suspended in mid-air, waiting for someone to reel you in, to bring you back to reality. a feeling that can only be described as sweet, sweet relief floods your senses, leaving you a whimpering, twitching mess. sunghoon groans loudly on top of you and you feel him fill up the condom inside of you, his head hanging forward to rest in the crook of your neck once again. two hot sticky tears spill from your eyes, and you barely register the now soggy tie being removed from your mouth. 

your vision is blurry and your ears are ringing and when the warmth of sunghoon’s body disappears you want to cry out for him to come back. luckily he does, and you feel his presence beside you and you try to blink away your tears.

the ceiling slowly starts to come back into focus, and you can feel sunghoon leisurely picking off the dried up bits of blood red wax that are still stuck to your skin. 

you hear sunghoon ask you something, and you pull yourself out of your post-sex haze to listen to him. “hmm?”

“i said do you want to just… spend the night?”

you act as if you’re rolling the idea around in your head for a minute, but you already know the answer.

“i mean soojin told me she’ll be disappointed if i come home tonight, so i guess so.”

arm candy.

your new delta-kind nickname, courtesy of soojin. bestowed upon you when you and sunghoon walked into the lucky cat hand in hand so you could drop off your letter of resignation. soojin screamed so loud the whole strip probably heard her.

“you’re like his trophy wife.”

“we’re not even married?”

after spending the night at sunghoon’s penthouse you never really left. it became a gradual process of moving all of your stuff from your apartment into his, solidified by the termination of your lease - which the two of you celebrated by popping champagne and fucking on his balcony.

after some time the two of you fell into a sort of routine; he’d spend the day working at his law firm and you’d use his black amex card to go shopping - eventually he just made you a shareholder of his bank account. 

inspired by your newfound relationship with sunghoon, soojin worked up the courage to make a move on jay, who admitted that he had felt a connection since he first laid eyes on her (cute). the four of you spend nights out on the strip getting drunk and making bad decisions, acting like the city is your playground.

you wear skirts more and more and panties less and less, a decision that has led to you getting tongue-fucked by sunghoon in the bathroom of the lucky cat’s VIP longue on more than one occasion. he spoils you with jewellry from tiffany’s and vivienne westwood and with bags from coach and hermes; it’s likely that there isn’t a square foot in sunghoon’s penthouse where the two of you haven’t had sex.

you take tabs of acid off of his fingertips in the backs of limousines and town cars before hopping from club to club, allowing your brain to turn into a puddle of mush for a few hours to free you from your worries and woes (not that you have many).

sunghoon’s winning streak at the lucky cat keeps him rich to the point where he’s contemplating quitting his job at the law firm (he hasn’t yet, but it’s hot on his mind). you like to  watch him and his friends gamble, and you’ve even started to understand how the games work - except for pai gow poker, that one still confuses you. ever since you and soojin have started coming to the lucky cat as customers instead of barista’s, you get a barrage of dirty looks from your past coworkers.

“they’re just jealous,” sunghoon told you before checking his cards during a game of baccarat, “jealous that you’re living the american dream!”

and then he lost.

you had decided to spend the night at home to recover from drinking one too many mimosas at brunch, and sunghoon went out to the lucky cat with jay, soojin, jake and heeseung. the night started off normal at first, with jay and jake playing a couple rounds each on the slot machines before everyone gathered around to watch sunghoon play a round of craps. it was jake who told him to bet bigger than he ever has before - he’s always won, why would this game be any different?

“it’s bad y/n,” soojin tells you through the phone, “like hundreds of thousands of dollars kind of bad. it’s gonna take him a while to come back from this - both his ego and his bank account.”

when sunghoon got home you didn’t really know what to do. it felt as if there was a ghost hanging around your apartment; his eyes were glazed over and when you ask him if he’s okay and if he wants to talk he chooses to ignore you and locks himself in his office. 

you wait up for hours, fighting off sleep so you can be there for him when he comes out and wants to talk. at some point your nerves get the best of you and you head into his office, only for him to lash out at you like he never has before. sure, you and sunghoon and gotten into petty fight before, but the sheer look of anger in his eyes is enough to have you slamming the door shut with tears in your eyes.

you lay on your shared bed fully clothed, not sleeping a wink. it’s still nighttime, and your head is as busy as the strip is. staring at the fragments of yourself that you see scattered throughout sunghoon’s room, you begin to weigh your options. 

part of you expected sunghoon to remain undefeated forever, even though you know that’s not possible. but why did his first loss have to be so detrimental? and are you really prepared to live such an unpredictable lifestyle for god knows how long? pushing yourself off of your mattress, you grab a slip of paper and begin to write a note while trying to avoid smudging the ink with your tears.

hoonie, 

i love you, but it was never meant to be. 

what happens in vegas, stays in vegas. 

good bye.

y/n

it’s nearing 4:00 am when you quietly gather your belongings, take all of the cash from sunghoon’s emergency safe, and get in a taxi headed to the airport. sin city taglist: @deobitifull @n-wjns @starstruckluminarytale @smuchsmut @idkwiexist @sjakewrld @muffinminnie @jeondolly @kimmchijjajang @drunkjaked @lalalalawon

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himselfwas a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, maestro.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

are you mine? – lee heeseung

requested. main masterlist.

TAGLIST: to be added to my perma taglist, please send an ask. only those with their ages on their profile can be considered to be added to the taglist, and you must be 18+ as everything i write is mature. anyone sending asks and doesn't meet the criteria, your ask will be deleted.

pairing: academic rival/secret best friend heeseung x afab reader (feat nct best friend sungchan)

genre: angst, more so suggestive than smuttish, but does have a start of a smut scene at the end (mdni)

plot: heeseung loved to taunt you every day, reminding you he was better than you. little did you know, that was just his pathetic way of trying to win you over

warnings: heeseung was an idiot and did childish things to 'flirt', heeseung kind of cornered reader into dating him but it was also consensual, swearing, start of a smut scene but i cut it off oops.

wc: 2543

Lee Heeseung walked the halls of the campus like he owned the whole fucking world, and you hated it with a burning passion.

You hated him with a burning passion.

His face was dumb, his smiles were dumb, his soft yet cheerful greetings were dumb, his lingering hands on your arm when he called for your attention was dumb.

You just wanted to punch him in the face sometimes.

Sure, he was hot—insanely so. He was smart, athletic, good at everything he did. But he wasn’t the king of the world or anything—though he sure liked to act like he was.

His follower count on social media baffled you, you refused to become one of the numbers that stalked his every post and commented thirst all over his photos. You refused to join the crowd.

That didn’t mean you didn’t secretly ogle his photos.

And sometimes, he even shared a lowkey photo of you claiming he was in mad love. You thought he was just using you to get the women in his DMs to back off, but little did you know…

Ever since you were a kid, you were always second place next to Heeseung. He followed you everywhere, just to taunt you and rub that simple fact into your face. Anyone would think he was following you because he was beyond whipped over you, but the whispers he shared into your ears were often taunts of you not being good enough to beat him, not good enough to ever be on top of him, not secret sweet confessions like everyone thought.

You weren’t the only enemy Lee Heeseung had.

Everyone knew there was another student that was second in town, Sungchan. He always pushed you down to third place, but you were okay with the fact it was him. Sungchan didn’t make you feel angry butterflies. His smile calmed you, and he often made you laugh instead of feel fury.

Despite going to sister schools and not sharing any classes growing up, you had become friends with Sungchan through some after school classes you both attended. Dare you say it, he was your best friend.

When all three of you began university, you were beyond happy to be in all the same classes as Sungchan. It just sucked that Heeseung was also in your classes. At least he left you alone.

Sungchan had become more like a brother figure, a best friend, compare to the crush you expected it to turn out to be. When you were a kid, you expected to fall madly in love with Sungchan and you would get your happy ever after with him. But that was far from the case.

You both enjoyed being with one another, but there was no semblance of romance in sight. That, and the fact Sungchan had been in love and dating the same girl from the age of 13.

Sungchan walked you out of class and pulled you aside, chewing at his bottom lip with anxiety. “I think I’m really going to do it, I’m going to propose to her.”

“While I think you’re still way too young to be getting married,” You began, having been through this conversation many times in recent months. You turned around, landing your back against the wall as you watched Sungchan’s reactions. “You’ve been together for so long and it’s clear you’re each other’s soulmates. I wish you all my luck.”

Sungchan’s anxious frown turned into a wide smile, his eyes even glossing over. He jumped in his spot and took a breath to try and clear the fog in his brain. “You’re my number one hype man, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend,” Sungchan complimented you.

You grabbed his cheeks with your hand and pulled his head down a little too aggressive. You pressed a kiss to his forehead, then tapped his cheek with your fingers. “Go get yourself that wife,” You joked with a wide smile.

Sungchan turned and almost ran down the hallway, tripping on the way. You couldn’t help but feel a flutter in your chest. He was so happy, and that made you happy. You silently made a reminder to text him later that night for all the details before you pushed yourself off the wall and turned, only to come face-to-chest with an unknown person.

“Oh, sorry-“ You began, but your happiness dimmed as you looked up at Heeseung. You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “How long have you been standing here for?”

“Long enough to see you making fuck me eyes at Sungchan,” He muttered, sounding a little jealous almost. You rolled your eyes, but pushed the angry butterflies in your stomach aside. You felt butterflies for this man only, and it made you hate him more.

“I was not making fuck me eyes at him, thank you very much. Not that it’s any of your business,” You snapped. As you looked up at him, your chin almost rested on his chest. You craved to hold him closer, but you knew you had no right to touch him.

“Of course it’s my business, you’re my fucking girlfriend,” Heeseung snapped, causing your eyes to go wide and your mouth to fall open.

“Um, since when?” You asked. Heeseung looked enraged by your response, his hand grabbing your cheeks just as you had done to Sungchan.

“What do you mean ‘since when’? Since we were kids, maybe. You were always at my house and we spent all of our time together, and you’re only now telling me you were never my girlfriend?”

You couldn’t held but laugh, only causing Heeseung’s eyes to turn into a cold stare as his hand gripped your cheeks tighter, pushing your lips out at the action. “That doesn’t mean we were dating, you know.”

‘Oh yeah? Then why did you sleep over almost every weekend and hug me in your sleep? Why did we go on almost weekly dates?” Heeseung defended the relationship you didn’t even know you was in.

“Dates? Wait, you think us going to the library to study was us going on dates? Come on man, do better. If you’re in love with me then just admit it,” You joked, your hands coming to hold his wrist but you made no effort to push his hand away.

“I’m madly in fucking love with you,” He stated, his voice a little too calm in contrast to the butterflies rumbling in your stomach, trying to get out.

“Excuse me?” You asked, your tone sounded a little too snappy and angry, the opposite of what you intended.

“Enough of your attitude,” Heeseung whispered before he pulled your face to his, his lips pressing against yours gently. Your eyes widened at first, but then your hands let go of his wrist to wrap around his neck to kiss him back.

Heeseung smiled against your lips at the action and turned his head to check his watch before he mumbled, “I’m meant to be in gym right now.”

“Well how about your kind of girlfriend follows you and watches your basketball training for once, yeah?” You asked, Heeseung nodding his head a little too enthusiastically. You didn’t know why you just decided to hop right into the role of his girlfriend from seemingly hating him, but a part of you burned for him. His existence in your life was daily, and you couldn’t bare the idea of parting.

Heeseung let go of your cheeks and laced his hand down, his fingers tangling between yours before he said nothing further and walked with you to the downstairs gym. He had his own little plan, knowing no one would be there for some hours. He thought he was ingenious.

Heeseung had always seen you as his girlfriend. He fell in love with you at first sight as a kid, sharing his paints with you and trying to help you hold your paintbrush at a better angle. He took on most of the project when you were paired up in class, not even asking you to do any work. He walked you home almost every day. He looked at the crowd of his every basketball match, only to feel sadness when he didn’t find your face cheering him on.

He personally thought you were a shit girlfriend, but he loved you with ever fibre of his being so he couldn’t just let you go. He even bragged to the whole world about you, that was why he shared your semi-photos of social media. His friends even deemed you a bad girlfriend, but he still defended your every action.

Heeseung reached the door to lead to the locker room and turned to you with a wide smile. You went to pull your hand away so he could go inside, but instead you let out a gasp when he pulled you in, then into a private changing room. He locked the door behind him, pushing you to sit on the bench.

You looked at him with wide and surprised eyes, watching as he slipped his bag from his shoulder onto the floor by the door. He looked to the right and smirked. “I’m going to have a quick shower since I was working out this morning. I want you to sit front row so it’s easier to wait here so I can show you the quick way to the best seats, yeah?”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the wall. “Wow, you demand I’m your girlfriend and try to fuck me all in the same day.” You caught onto his plot quite quick, but you made no effort to leave. If you wanted to, he would have gladly just saved seeing you for later.

Heeseung rolled his eyes and crouched in front of you, his hands resting on your thighs for support. “It’s not my fault you forgot we were dating.”

“You never asked me,” You snapped, lifting your head to stare into his eyes. The way he raised an eyebrow made the butterflies fight once again. Your hands came to the sides of his jaw, holding his face in your hands. You felt drunk just from his looks.

“Of course I did, and you said ‘yeah, sure,’ so you’re all mine and I would appreciate it if you’d stop flirting with Sungchan,” Heeseung stated, his hands moving their way up your thighs to your hips, his touch gentle but behind his eyes, there was a dark look.

You couldn’t remember the day as you were so lost reading on your phone, how did he expect you to remember? He remembered the feeling of his skin becoming hot and his hands sweaty when he asked. The memory was engraved in his brain for the rest of time.

“Sungchan is literally about to go propose to his girlfriend so I can assure you, I do not flirt with him,” You stated, shaking Heeseung’s face in your hands.

Heeseung smiles wide and then pouted his lips. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you to the edge of the bench so your lips could meet his again. At first the kiss was gently, but Heeseung soon became needy and began to use his tongue and teeth into the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip to try and heat up the make out session.

You weren’t sure how to react, your brain hazy. You hated him, but you also really, really liked him. He was perfect in every way, despite the daily taunts of him being better than you. You didn’t know that was just his lame way of flirt, and made a reminder to show your boyfriend how to really flirt with a girl when you weren’t so needy to be against one another’s bare skin.

Your hands moved from his jaw back to lock around his neck, pulling him as close as possible. Heeseung smiled against your lips before one of his hands wrapped around your waist, then he grabbed the zip of your pants and he pulled it down. The action caused your pants to fall down a bit, you gasping against his lips. “What are you doing?”

Heeseung laughed and pulled back to rest his forehead against yours. “Sorry, I got a little too caught up. I just want to touch you and make everyone know you’re mine. Mark up the pretty skin on your neck, make you scream my name…”

Heeseung’s words drifted off as he became lost in his own perverted thoughts. Your cheeks became hot and you used one hand to fan at your face and neck, trying not to turn into a fit of nervous giggles.

You laughed and pulled back from him. Heeseung expected you to reject his offer, but God, he had no idea how much you had been dreaming of touching him beyond his face and arms. The parts of you that hated, really only hated that you thought he didn’t care about you. When you found out the truth, of course your whole body became crazed.

You grabbed the edge of your jumper and pulled it off, revealing you were wearing no undershirt or bra. Heeseung’s eyes bulged out of his head for a second before he smirked, his hands coming to your chest as his thumbs rubbed over your nipples, eliciting a moan from you.

“Oh no, is my pretty baby already needy for me?” Heeseung pouted, his thumbs flicking slow, then fast. You raised your hips, leaning your head back as you let out deep breaths. Heeseung took the hint, his hands pushing down your pants. He gripped your ass halfway down, then smirked to himself before he pushed the pants down to your knees.

You let out a gasp as his actions, but couldn’t hold back your laugh. “For someone who was always mean to their girlfriend, you’re sure acting real nice to me right now. Is it just because you’re going to be getting something out of this?”

Heeseung pouted and shook his head in denial. “Of course not, can’t I just treat my pretty girlfriend nice for once?”

Your rolled your eyes but nodded with a smile. Heeseung rushed to push your panties aside, no smart remarks coming from him for once. You were unsure how to react, but decided to just go along with it.

Neither you nor him ever dated anyone else and he was right, you did sleep over his every weekend after studying together. He was a secret best friend, one who tried to push your buttons.

He didn’t seem to comment on the fact when you sleep in his bed, you made sure to push your whole body against his in an attempt to get his attention. If he did notice, then he sure held some strong restraints against your seduction attempts.

You weren’t sure how Sungchan would react to you dating his academic rival, but decided it better to push the worry aside. That was something you could deal with at a later time.

Heeseung instantly dove his face between your legs, tongue out and ready to give you all the pleasure you wanted. His tongue pressed flat against your clit, and you let out a little shriek for the new yet exciting feeling.

CUPID’S CORNER — two ; my kyky

because he’s a little shit, nishimura riki sends a totally embarrassing confession about you to “cupid’s corner”, a twitter account that posts anonymous confessions from decelis academy students. but when that joke confession suddenly makes a bunch of people confess to you on cupid’s corner (for real this time!) riki finds that he’s jealous — and oh… he can’t believe it took him a fake confession to realise that he’s crazily in love with you.

two － my kyky! previous ☆ next ♡ masterlist

author's note. so fitting that mbappe was announced as the captain of the french football team. "I'm not saying I'm Mbappé's biggest fan, but I did name my cat after him. #CantStopMbappéing" jk this was an autogenerated bio that i got using a bot

CUPID'S CORNER! a riki smau. genre: smau, crack, fluff, idol au pairing: non-idol! riki x non-idol! reader warnings: swearing, ignore timestamps taglist is OPEN!

Marianela Nunez and Vadim Muntagirov in The Nutcracker (Royal Ballet 2018)

Hiiiiiii hope you are doing well!!!! If you feel up to it could you pls write a short story or whatever of Aomine x y/n college au with some kind of friends to lovers or enemies to lovers I rly don’t mind, fluff or nsfw idm whatever you feel like I am just a bit of a hoe for the tension and build up 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

omg honey 😳😳😳 you’re talking to the CEO of building tension between herself and her crush, so this is right up my alley lmao I hope I won’t disappoint

Fine Line // Aomine Daiki x Reader

Context: college!au in which your best friend Aomine is all your friends talk about, but you can’t see what the hype is all about.

Pairing: Aomine x gn! Reader

Warnings: some cussing, tension between the two main characters, some mildly suggestive passages but still sfw but overall it's fluff 🥰

“That dude is so fucking sexy...”

“Oh my god, and he plays basketball too?”

“Should we go watch him train on the court?”

You glare at your new friends, an amused expression on your face. Something about them gushing over your best friend is somewhat funny. You’ve known Aomine for too long to be able to see what they’re seeing. To you, the blue-haired guy is the dumbass that has been following you around and pulled you into some shenanigans since your first year of university. The two of you have met during orientation week and bonded in the strangest way. You didn’t have any common interest, and to be frank, you initially found his personality irritating. He always has this aura of “I’m too cool for you” surrounding him, as he carelessly does things, like the notion of consequence is foreign to him. Yet, you still sit next to each other in every classes you have in common, and soon enough, he is in your apartment every night, invading your space with not an ounce of shame in his body.

To this day, you still wonder what makes him your best friend. He’s an arrogant, slightly pervy idiot, yet you’d take a bullet for him at any time. And as for him, well you are as clueless as what makes him stick around. It’s not like he can’t find anything better and has to settle for you as his sole company; Aomine is fairly popular, even on your big campus. He frequently gets invited to parties, is constantly asked on dates, he’s even able to get extensions for his assignments by sweet-talking his lecturers. So really, he can be well off without you. But for the past years, he’s is constantly somewhere around you, no matter what, even going as far as turning down dates to hang out with you. Most of the time, you don’t demand anything from him, but he’ll constantly show up, wherever you are, just to kill time in your company.

You smile as your friends finally decide that they will go to the outside court to watch their new eye candy. You haven’t told them how close you are to Aomine, because it would ruin the fun for you. Hearing them fantasize on him when you’ve seen him in his most unattractive moments makes it ironically funny.  As you approach the court, however, you quickly realize that you can’t hide your proximity with him anymore. As soon as his blue eyes lay on you, he drops the ball to come to you, a stupid smile plastered on his face.

“Bestie!”

“Don’t call me that” you grunt.

He laughs, coming in for a hug that you decline. He’s sweaty, and you’re wearing a nice shirt, so you don’t want his stench on you. You fail to notice your friends witnessing your interaction with the athlete student, both completely flabbergasted.

“You should go back to your game” you say, noticing his teammates looking his way.

He turns around, following your gaze, before nodding. But before he goes, he removes his sweaty t-shirt and throws it right at you. You catch it in extremis, glaring at him.

“I’m not a fucking laundry basket Daiki, don’t throw your dirty clothes at me!”

He sends you a flying kiss while you're scolding him, quickly reprising his place on the court amongst the other players. You swear as you hold his t-shirt by the tip of your fingers, and when you turn around, you meet the shocked faces of your friends.

“Y/n? For how long have you known him?!”

You smirk. Well, this might be the end of the fun for you, but it was entertaining, while it lasted.

“That moron is my best friend” you casually say.

They both look at you in a complete state of incredulity. Yet, they can tell you aren’t lying. From the small interaction that they have witnessed, they can easily guess how well acquainted you are with Aomine.

“Couldn’t you say something about it earlier?! Dude, we’ve been down bad for him for so long, and you just... knew him?”

You raise your shoulders. Granted, if you have told them earlier, maybe they could have had a better chance at asking your best friend on a date. You could have introduced them, playing Cupid for your buddies who genuinely see Aomine as the best catch out there.

“It was funny listening to y’all talking about him like he’s an actual hot ass. Truth be told, he’s a giant dummy” you admit. “Oh well, I guess I had my fun. Sorry about that.”

You momentarily disappear to put Aomine’s t-shirt in his bag and go back to the side-court, acting like you haven’t just dropped a bomb on your friends who both have crush on the blue-haired boy.

“Is that it, y/n? Or are you keeping him for yourself?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, we’d respect it if you had something going on with him.”

It’s your turn to look at them with round eyes. The idea of anything romantic going on between you and your best friend is an absolute absurdity. People have at multiple occasions assume that the two of you are a couple, and every time, your reaction is the same: Aomine laughing, and you rushing to deny such stupid assumption.

“I’m not interesting in him, he’s all yours” you declare. “Honestly, I really can’t see what you find in him.”

You stretch your arms, looking for your best friend on the court. You’re lying when you say you can’t see how he’s attractive, because he definitely is. Especially now, when he plays basketball; the way he owns the whole court, running from one side to the other, lean muscles glistening as the sunrays hit the sweat beads on his body, his face contortioned under concentration. He is objectively a very handsome guy, and you may deny it as much as you want, you can sometimes feel your heart race when you see him under certain lights. But for the most part, Daiki is just Daiki. And you can’t imagine him as someone else to you.

You stay on court till the match ends, you friends having to leave at some point, which they truly dreaded because it meant that they couldn’t admire their eye candy anymore. You remain there knowing that Aomine will have eventually ended at your place this evening, so you might as well wait for him to finish so he can drive you home instead of taking the bus. He finishes, bidding his teammates goodbye before coming to you, a small smile on his lips. He always smiles when he sees you, which is quite cheesy in your opinion, but you can’t change his ways.

“Thanks for waiting for me” he says after taking a few sips of water.

“I want you to drive me home.”

He chuckles, putting on a clean t-shirt, and taking his bag as the both you walk out of the campus. The air is fresh, and you look at the cloudless sky in search for the first stars. They usually shine timidly at this point of the day, so you may have to search for them for a while. You don’t notice your best friend watching you, a soft smile on his lips. He likes these small habits of yours, the thing that you do casually, without even thinking that they’re noticeable, let alone appreciable. You still walk for a bit until you reach his car and you get in.

The journey is short in car, contrary to your usual thirty minutes in the bus. You quickly get in your apartment, letting a sigh of relief leave your mouth as you remove your shoes and find some snack in the kitchen. As expected, Aomine navigates around your place like he’s the one actually living here, and in some ways, he sort of does.

“Can I take a shower?”

“Yeah, you’ve got some clean clothes in my drawers” you reply chewing on your snack.

He nods before walking towards the bedroom and it’s only then that you realize that you’ve given the greenlight for him to snoop around your drawers. And it’s surely not something you want him to do. You guys may be close, but the thought of him going around your stuff, probably seeing your underwear, is terrifying. You rush to your room, hoping that you can intervene before he sees too much.

“I’ll get the clothes for you” you spurt out as you join him.

“Don’t kill my fun y/n, you have some interesting stuff in there...”

He looks at you smugly, holding some of your underwear in his big palm and you are quick to get these back. Cheeks red, you look like the perfect victim for Aomine’s teasing.

“So, when do you where those, huh? For who do you wear them?” he asks while leaning towards you.

You push his face away with your hand, clearly flustered but trying your best to hide it.

“It’s none of your business Daiki, take that fucking shower so I can get some rest from you.”

Laughing as he finally gets his clothes, the tall boy walks towards your bathroom, but he turns around one last time, and you can tell that he is not done getting on your nerves.

“That blue one, it matches my hair” he says as he throw one of your underwear at you – one that you haven’t noticed he’s been holding all along.

You are speechless, he really has no sense of boundaries. To be honest, that has always been the dynamics in your friendship. Aomine, for some reason, has never once hesitated to act like your belongings are his too, taking ownership of your whole space and personal effects. How many times have you come back home to him peacefully napping in your bed, or have you found his clothes in your laundry basket because he’s felt like taking a shower at your place? Or all the times he’s answered the phone for you, talking to your parents like he actually is their child.

When you think about it, there is no wonder that people will automatically think that you are a couple. In some ways, you act like one – always hanging out, basically living together, constantly taking care of each other in the most mundane way. You cooking for him, him walking you under his umbrella on rainy days, him buying your favourite snacks when he’s eaten all of them, you letting him have to best pillow when he sleeps over. And you ponder if this is how things should be. Is that really friendship? At the same time, you don’t want to change this dynamic; if the both of you were to behave differently with each other, it would probably be the end of your bond. It is the fact that your relationship is not necessarily bounded to conventions, which leads to outside judgement. But you don’t want others to get to your head.

As far as you are concerned, Daiki is your best friend.

You lay in your bed, lost in your thoughts. You really try not to overthink it, because for the longest time you didn’t even bother to reply to anyone making assumptions on you and Aomine, but it’s getting harder lately. You can’t understand where these doubts come from, and you can’t shake them of. Are you in denial and may actually be into him; or are you really just friend with him?

The scent of your shower gel takes you out your reflections, and you look up, seeing the object of your thoughts in front of you. In a towel. That’s all. You struggle to keep the red from reaching your cheeks at this sight.

“Dude, where are your clothes?” you ask, trying not to look.

“Was too focused on your underwear that I forgot mine here” he laughs. “What’s up with you?”

“Huh?”

“Why aren’t you looking me when you speak? That ain’t like you.”

You swear – you really aren’t sly. Reluctantly, you look up, facing that malicious smile that Aomine has on his face sometimes.

“Is it me? Do I make you shy when I stand half naked in front of you?” he asks not necessarily expecting an answer, as he knows he is right.

“Shut up” you mumble, trying to hold eye-contact with him.

The tall man looks smugger than ever, his hands on his hips, right wear the towel stands. To your surprise, he climbs on the bed, leaving water stains from his still wet body, and you move in defence when he is way too close to you.

“It’s cute, that I make you feel this way.”

“As if” you lie, “stop feeding your ego. Are you so lonely Daiki, that you absolutely need attention? Because if you need a date, I have two friends who would totally love going out with you.”

He scoffs at your word, laying next to you. You can feel the heat of his body against your skin, and you wonder for how long can you defend yourself. Soon enough, you won’t be able to lie, pretending that the way he is right now doesn’t do things to you.

“I don’t want a date” he lets out.

“So that’s your life now, just being around me at all times?”

“I’m fine with it.”

His voice is tinted in honesty, and you suddenly feel like your doubts aren’t so senseless. This time, it isn’t the outside work that gets into your head, it’s Aomine himself. Are you so clueless on the nature of your relationship with him? Are you the only one who refuses to see it?

“Daiki, are you fine with being my best friend?”

You don't mean to ask the question; but it still got out of your mouth, regardless.

“What kind of question is this?”

He sighs, as a silence sets between you. You don’t expect him to take this long to reply, and the fact that he hasn’t said a word yet further confirms that like you, there is some lines that are blurred for him.

“Forget it, you don’t have to answer” you let out.

You aren’t sure why you don’t want him to say a word anymore; it’s certainly fear, but you are too proud to admit it. You prop yourself up, ready to leave your bed and act like nothing happened, but your best friend’s hand wraps around your arm, pulling you back to the mattress.

“Dai-“

He doesn’t give you the time to say a word that he has you in dangerous proximity to his body. You can’t move, too confused by what is going on to say a word. And maybe it was the lightning, or maybe, it is a revelation, but you have never seen Aomine like this before. At this very moment, as you eyes lock in his, you can only feel your heart beating in your chest to an abnormal rhythm, the rest of your senses being completely out of service. You are unable to grasp any notion of time or space. At this very moment, it’s you, and him. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Shit, y/n, how can you even ask if I’m fine being your best friend?” he says, voice low in your ear. “I love you but you’re one huge dumbass. I’ve been making moves for months, so again, how can you ask if I’m ok with just being your best friend?”

You gulp, processing his words. It’s an overflow of information, and you struggle to understand it, let alone realize that this moment is happening. Everything seems so surreal, yet you are not hallucinating.

“I can’t stop smiling like an idiot when I see you, it’s absurd” he laughs, “I don’t know when or how, or why, but at some point I stopped being satisfied with simply being your friend. Can you blame me for that?”

You slowly shake your head as an answer, still trying to find the words to keep this conversation going on your side. In the meantime, your silence is interpreted as an opportunity to keep talking by the blue-haired boy.

“I’m gonna sound disgustingly cheesy, but that’s what you do to me. I think I’m in love with you at this point.”

His last sentence goes straight to your aching heart. You are speechless; however, you know that you have to speak before it’s too late and that you start overthinking things and draw yourself out at the last second before you actually get to be completely honest with him and with yourself.

“Daiki?” your voice is low, like it’s struggling to get out of your lips. But you gather all the courage you have in you, understanding that if you stay silent any longer, you might lose him.

 “Can you kiss me?” You finally ask.

His answer doesn’t take long to come. Tan hands are already cupping your face, while the distance between the two of you progressively disappear. His lips finally touch yours, guiding you into something that you didn’t know that you were craving for so long. It feels like your heart is blooming, a wall falling down as you recognize the truth. It is no longer a mystery why you like having him around, or why he always want to be by your side. Everything make sense, and the way your entire self melts under his touch only prove that this is right. He pulls you onto his laps, only covered by the towel, and you can’t make sense of reality as you sink in further. When the kiss comes to an end, you open your eyes, expecting to see something different.

“So, I guess I’m gonna be the one to see you in these undies, huh?”

“Oh, shut up Daiki!”

In appearance, it is the same old Aomine. The arrogant, slightly pervy idiot, that is always in your space. In your heart, however, he is Daiki, the boy that you can’t imagine not having by you at all times.

Because there’s a very fine line between loving someone as a friend, and loving someone as a soulmate, and you two have just crossed the line.

resignation (4)

SUMMARY: For the last six years, you’ve dedicated your career to ensuring Park Sunghoon never misses a day of work in his life. But you’re tired of endless days that seem to blend together, and seeing him living his fun, luxurious lifestyle makes you think about what else you might be missing out on. When Sunghoon finds your resignation letter on his desk, he does everything in his power to convince you to stay.

NOTES: please do not ask me about chapter updates.

WARNINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER: kissing & dry humping.

SERIES PLAYLIST + SERIES MASTERLIST

please leave a comment/reblog and let me know what you think!

***

What does it mean when you have a wet dream about your boss? 

Surely this happens to everybody. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about because the other party involved has no idea what transpired. This feeling is like accidentally calling your teacher “Mom” or “Dad,” only a thousand times worse. 

You don’t remember much, only fragments and jump cuts that make you question if what you dreamt was real at all. But you remember what his naked chest and torso looked like and the way your hands roamed the expanse of his skin as you sat on top of him. You remember the way his legs parted to situate your body on his thighs, and you remember the way he looked when he was tugging on his dick to finish all over your body. 

It was enough to wake you with a startle. 

It’s just before 5AM and nothing you do can put you back to sleep. Your heart is beating erratically, and your mind races from scenario to scenario. Revisiting the remnants of your dream makes you flustered and you feel guilty. Surely it’s normal to think about your boss like that, right? 

There’s not much that Sunghoon isn’t perfect at. He can be a bit impatient and particular, but he’s the epitome of everybody’s dream. He’s so sure of himself all of the time and knows what he wants. Most importantly, Sunghoon is not afraid of pursuing his goals until the very end. 

It’s unfortunate that passionate, secure men are exactly your type. You don’t play games; you’re too old for that. This will-they-won’t-they is a thing of the past and a scenario you would’ve loved to experience back when you were seventeen. In adulthood, you appreciate men who respect your independence and find it attractive, even. 

Hearing Sunghoon tell his colleagues he knows to trust you because of how you need little help does more damage than good. Sunghoon’s praise is not the basis of your career, but it’s an added bonus when it all comes down to it. 

He’s everything you could ever want in a guy, but you can’t do anything about it. You haven’t been able to think about how attractive you found him to be upon the first day of meeting him because Sunghoon is your boss. He’s the one who delegates your work and at the end of the day, it would be unprofessional. 

It doesn’t stop you from having wet dreams about him, apparently. 

Getting yourself to leave your apartment is much harder than it usually is. You refuse to get in your car for a while and try to stall yourself until the inevitable anxiety about being late to work pushes you to get in it. Music doesn’t help quell your mind on the drive either. It all sounds like static noise to you with how loud and vibrational the wet dream is. Pulling up to the parking garage and your designated spot feels like a challenge. Stepping into the lobby and riding the elevator up to your floor feels damn near suffocating. 

It’s just your luck that Sunghoon happened to show up earlier than you did for once, truly. You like to be prepared and have a daily agenda to go over with him, but you need your peace and quiet to gather all your thoughts and priorities before beginning the workday. 

He stands with his back facing you. Sunghoon’s broad shoulders are covered by a black button down with sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow. Your breath hitches and you don’t think you can handle seeing him if he turns around, especially when you know he could probably see how you’re out of it today. 

You take a few deep breaths before your heels click against the hardwood floor, alerting Sunghoon of your presence. He turns around when he hears you and you try not to trip and fall. Damn his good looks so early in the morning. Damn him for not needing any makeup while you caked your under eyes with concealer. Screw him for looking so attractive when you’re trying to think of him as anything but. 

“Morning.”

“You’re here early.” 

Sunghoon smiles. “I know. I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I figured I’d come to the office early.” 

Did he have a wet dream about you too?

The thought disappears as soon as you think it because that seems both ludicrous and egotistical. Sunghoon doesn’t think of you like that. He sees you as his personal assistant and nothing more. 

Why does that feeling disappoint you? 

You’re desperately trying to keep a calm demeanor as you walk closer towards him. You try your hardest to push the dream away from your mind as the two of you look at each other, and instead take a seat by your desk. He follows behind you and lingers by the front of it as you take out your legal pad to write today’s agenda. The weight of his eyes are heavy.

“No meetings until 11AM when the Choi’s come for an informational meeting with the Decelis company for lunch at the InterContinental, and begin discussing the steps until I resign for good.”

“You have your shit down.” 

“It’s my job.”

“Do we really have to talk about the fact that you’re quitting?” 

You turn your chair to face him. “Yes. I’m leaving in a month and a half, there are a million projects I need to finish, and I need to make sure your new assistant has what it takes.”

“You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?” 

“I have. It’s my decision and I stand by it. But I really did enjoy my time at this company and I want to make sure you have somebody who can manage you.” 

“Manage me?” 

You smirk when he chokes. “Don’t act like you’re a saint, Sunghoon. You rely on me for nearly all of your business and I’ve learned more about this company’s inner workings than anybody else. My work is triple what other assistants do at this office, but it gets results.”

“I’m passionate about my job.” 

“So am I.” 

Sunghoon leans over your desk and puts both palms on the wood below him. He looks at you and bends down until he’s significantly closer to your face. Even with the clear distance between the both of you, your cheeks feel like they’re heating up. Suddenly, your dreams from the night before reappear in your vision. You start imagining what Sunghoon would look like without his shirt on at this very angle. 

“You’re the best at what you do. You’re smart, intuitive, and you’re not afraid to argue with me and hurt pride. I’ve never had a business partner who’s been as sharp as you.” 

You’re nearly stunned into silence. Sunghoon’s plush lips look inviting and his piercing stare makes you feel all kinds of things an assistant shouldn’t be feeling about her boss. His words still register and float around your head.

“Business partner is a stretch.” 

“You make ideas and execute them. That’s more than what a personal assistant would do. It’s commendable how much you’ve learned about this company over the years.”

“The best I can do is help you find a worthy assistant. 

“I suppose.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything after that. Instead, he turns away without looking at you and retreats into his office. 

***

What makes a good assistant? 

So far, your list consists of:

Sense of urgency.

Able to meet deadlines.

Pays close attention to fine details and can multitask. 

Able to operate basic functions like Google and Microsoft Suite. 

Willing to work overtime, including nights and weekends. 

Manage calendars and be the bridge between employer and client.

Fulfill and execute holiday gifting for clients and partners. 

Create and maintain lists when needed. 

Of course, those are just the basic managerial tasks you do on a day to day basis. If you could be honest about what this job entails, the list would look something like:

Have a strong sense of urgency. 

Cannot be afraid to speak to strangers and build repertoire. 

Knows how to read a room and make judgment based on intuition. 

Knows how to speak multiple languages, even if merely conversational. 

Is an early bird and a night owl. 

Won’t be scared by how little time off is able to be taken.

Won’t be upset when needed to work very early hours and late evenings. 

Will not complain about accompanying the employer to personal matters. 

Knows how to be confident in a room full of people.

Doesn’t tolerate bullshit. 

Writing this job listing feels impossible at this point. It’s too long, too broad, and too complicated. You delete the entire draft and stare at the blank page as if to hope the listing to write itself. You’re trying to pass the time because your meeting with Sunghoon to discuss the next steps before you leave makes you feel like you’ll go insane.

But most of your projects are waiting on other people now. It’s a blessing and a curse to be one step ahead of everybody else. You’ve done all you could to follow up and distract yourself with your duties, but you can’t do anything until other people present their parts. 

Writing this job listing is something you’ve been putting off for the past week. It seems too hard to truly encapsulate what this job entails. It’s been bittersweet to walk down memory lane and think about all of the strengths you’ve learned over your time with Sunghoon. You want to do right by him and pick somebody that’s worthy of this position. You’ve spent so much of your career dedicated to him and the last thing you want is to undo all of the work you’ve done. 

Time doesn’t seem to be moving any faster and the thought of being alone with him after his obligations makes you feel uneasy. He lets you work in peace while he does his job. It’s not until an hour before his meeting do you see Sunghoon. It was hard to remain a stoic professional with a client when all you can think about is having sex with him on the large oakwood table your arms are resting on. When Sunghoon leaves for his lunch meeting, you picture his face buried deep in your cunt below your own desk. 

The way you think of your boss is unbecoming. There is a clear, set boundary you need to respect and maintain. But being near him makes things harder for you. 

If you were a better person, you’d quit while you’re ahead and stick to yourself until you were free from this company. It’s hard to work alongside somebody you’re physically attracted to. You see him walking around in his suits, so impeccably dressed that you’re not surprised at just how many people seek him out. He’s on magazine covers and rubs elbows with Korea’s rich and famous. Sunghoon’s circle resembles that of people who don’t need to think twice about spending money because they know it’ll never run out. The fact that he’s handsome, smart, and wealthy isn’t lost on you. In fact, it makes things that much worse. 

You’re not any of that. You don’t come from obscene wealth, nor do you have the friends and connections that Sunghoon does. You live in his world only as an adjacent, and then you go back to your apartment and order Chinese takeout while trying to feel like a regular human being. The imposter syndrome is what keeps you up at night. You’re afforded luxurious ways to travel, fine dining and drinks, and free clothes from time to time, but all of it is in the name of Sunghoon. He’s the one with the power to grant you these opulent wishes. You’re here because of him and who he is within society, not because it thinks you deserve to be here. 

It aches you to think that the next person to have your job will likely come to this startling truth like you did. Coming home to a small, studio apartment after an all expenses paid business trip to Berlin was a cold splash of water to the face. You are nothing without the company you work for. Somewhere along the line, you started to resent this lifestyle. It has consumed your life in ways you never thought imaginable. The late nights, days away from your bed, and the constant urge to prove yourself worthy is never ending. Even now, when most of Sunghoon’s colleagues and acquaintances know your name, people think of you as a mere servant.

The task then becomes how you can convey this through the job listing without making it sound like this job is miserable. It can be, but hinting at that is neither professional nor is it realistic. You need to find a worthy successor before you effectively leave. You can’t leave Sunghoon hanging without trying your best. He’s been good to you throughout the years, and the least you can do is make sure his next assistant doesn't make him resent having one. 

When Sunghoon is back from his lunch meeting, you’re calmer than you were at the beginning of the day. Knowing he’s been out of your sight has been good to quell your nerves. So has eating lunch. Instead of joining other assistants at the cafeteria, you’ve elected to pack yourself a lunch and enjoy the confines of your office until it’s time for you to go back to work. That hour is spent distracting yourself through Instagram, where an endless scroll of videos provides more entertainment than work does. 

It’s nearly four in the afternoon when Sunghoon comes back from his lunch meeting. He comes back looking triumphant and stops by your office after putting his suit jacket away in his office closet, knocking once before opening the door. 

“I take it the meeting went well?” you ask, not bothering to look up from your monitor as you type an email. 

“Swimmingly. Decelis has agreed to our terms and I had a very wonderful filet mignon as well.”

“BigHit called and requested a formal introduction. You have availability next Wednesday at 8AM and the following Tuesday at 10AM.”

“Let’s do Tuesday. Nobody likes an 8AM meeting.” 

“Got it.” 

Sunghoon steps inside and closes the door behind you when he hears the sound of an email being sent. You blink away the strain in your eyes from looking at a screen for too long and see him sitting on the chair in front of your desk. 

“It’s important we talk about what’s gonna happen for the next month and a half before you go, huh?” 

You sigh. “It is, Sunghoon. My time here has been good to me. I don’t want to leave you with somebody incompetent.”

“I feel touched that you’d extend your time here by two months to look for a new assistant.”

“You should. I’m trying to fill out a job listing before I post it. That’s been stalling me from figuring out what else I need to do. I figure I’ll tackle that and see what projects I can distribute until your new assistant gets the hang of things.” 

“What about the tasks you’re working on now?”

“Handled. I’m waiting for responses.”

“I’m gonna miss how hard you work,” he tells you. “It’ll be weird not seeing you everyday.” 

“You’ll get used to it. First up on the agenda: job requirements. I have a few basics–using software, meeting deadlines, accompanying you on business trips–what else is there that I can add?” 

Sunghoon looks over the list you’ve created. “Owning a passport and the willingness to travel is a must. But I’ll handle business when I need to travel by myself until I can fully trust my assistant.” 

You write it down. “Good idea. I think the first time I traveled with you was to Tokyo six months in. Pretty early to trust me, if I say so myself.” 

“Yeah, well, you proved to be a trustworthy person.”

“How so?”

Sunghoon shrugs. “I don’t know. You always seemed like you were keen on putting your head down and doing your job. Somewhere in the mix, I guess you started learning my habits and picked up on things quicker than other assistants I’ve had. I knew I could trust you when you had the briefings prepared when we met with Hybe.”

“Hybe?”

“You know, the independent record label we helped fund and is now considered one of the biggest music corporations in Asia?” 

“I know who they are,” you retort. Sunghoon just smiles. “But I don’t remember that at all.”

“You came into my office the day before the meeting and gave me an entire binder’s worth of prep I never asked you to do. Information on the company, the CEO and founder, artist growth potential, the whole nine yards. I’d never had a thorough assistant at that time. You walked into my office and apologized if you were overstepping before you left me with that behemoth of a binder. It was impeccable and it’s what helped solidify my decision to work with them. And now, Hybe is a major record label with business in America.” 

“Oh…I never knew that.”

“I tried to keep it on the down low so it didn’t get to your head. I was just getting to know you, and didn’t want to take the chance of your ego blowing out of proportion.”

You scowl. “It wouldn’t have.”

“I know that now. But at that time, we were still getting used to the swing of things. That let me know you were loyal to me and had my back. I knew I could trust you with the everyday administrative work, and I knew I could trust you to form a good, solid opinion when it came to this business. It’s why I decided to take you abroad for international business and to handle things back in Korea.” 

Sunghoon’s words make you dizzy. It’s as if a warmth has bloomed in your chest from all of the positive things he’s saying about you. You’ve tried your best to keep yourself humble when it comes to your career for the fear of crossing a boundary you shouldn’t have. You don’t have the power Sunghoon does, nor do you have the capital to back yourself up. The wins, both big and small, are celebrated by yourself before you move onto the next project. 

Everything he’s telling you makes you wonder if you never truly appreciated the things you’ve accomplished just because you were insecure about your role in the company. You’re an extension of Sunghoon, not his equal. Even when you’d assist him in decision making or give your input that ultimately influenced his opinions, it never felt like something worth celebrating. Not unless he’d give you a verbal praise.

The stories he’s telling you about his time working with you makes you look at your job differently. For as competent as you are, you’ve got tunnel vision. Work is work and there’s nothing more to it. You’ve always believed that the essence of your accomplishments lie with Sunghoon, but now you’re starting to wonder about all of the things he’s noticed about you without having vocalized them. The wake of your departure seems to have stirred up emotions within Sunghoon, but you’re having a hard time trying to figure out what they are. 

“I don’t know what to say, Sunghoon. Thanks, I think.”

“What I’m trying to say is, you’re really good at your job. I know it’s stressful trying to find a replacement, but I want to make sure they can reach your level with time. There won’t be anybody who can do what you do.” 

Your face heats up and you go back to brainstorming. 

“I’ve got a general idea for the listing now and I’ll type the copy for your approval by the end of the week. Let’s move on to our clients, shall we?”

When the clock hand tells you it’s six o’clock, Sunghoon asks if you have anywhere to be tonight. When you tell him no, he asks that you stay at the office longer with the promise of ordering takeout to be shared between the two of you. You decide to stay, even if it means you have to work, because you’d never turn down a free meal from him. It’s the only time you allow yourself to splurge on food and Sunghoon prefers to eat at high end restaurants anyway. 

You settle on dim sum. Sunghoon orders just enough for the both of you and it sits across the desk in the main meeting office with Thai tea in to-go cups. He’s loosened his tie and doesn’t bother with appearances now that most of his colleagues have left for the day. You don’t see this carefree side of him often, as he likes to dress to impress. Sunghoon believes impressions are everything in the business of venture capitalism. He doesn't want anybody to get the wrong idea about him because he knows assumptions run far and wild, and he’d rather have people say favorable things about him than not. 

You’ve done a good job at forgetting the dream you had by using work and food as a distraction. But the second Sunghoon loosened his tie and untucked his button down made your mind briefly flash to the dirty things that transpired in your mind. You will yourself to push those thoughts to the back of your head for the umpteenth time. 

“Humor me,” Sunghoon says to break the silence as he looks up from his pile of documents. “You told me you don’t have a personal life and that’s why you want to quit.”

“I didn’t say it like that.” 

“Could’ve fooled me. Weren’t you the one who said you don’t have time for yourself?” 

Curse him. 

“Yeah, I did.” He drops the document on the table and puts the straw of his Thai tea in his mouth, letting it dangle carelessly. 

“You surely have things and people when you’re not at the office. I don’t make you work here like you’re chained to the building.” 

“True,” you tell him as you turn to face him. “That doesn’t mean I have my shit figured out, though.”

“Who does?” 

“People like you don’t have to think about your future.” 

He nods. “Okay, I guess you’re right. I know we don’t come from the same backgrounds, but that doesn’t mean your life isn’t rich without money.” 

“It’s not that I don’t have anything, but lately, it’s felt like nothing sticks around long enough for me to make it part of my life. My hobbies are short-lived. My family lives far away. I don’t have many friends.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What? Not having hobbies.”

“Not having friends.” 

“It’s true.”

“What do you mean by that?”

You push a dumpling in your mouth and speak between bites. “I didn’t have many friends before moving to Seoul. Everyone I knew from university moved after graduating except my roommate during my last year. She’s the only person who I’d consider my friend.”

“What about your neighbor, Nabi? The one who watches your cat when you’re with me?” 

“Is that friendship if I’m asking her for favors?” 

“Kinda. You trust her to watch over Pochi and you told me you’re both getting to know each other a little. I’d count that as friends.” 

“Okay, I have two friends. I don’t have an entire network of people I see. I never had many friends growing up because I was too focused on getting out of my hometown and making it in Seoul. Well, I did that, but it feels like I’m paying the price.” 

“I don’t think you have to worry about not being likable.” 

“That’s not the issue, though. I just…I don’t have time to make connections because this job takes up so much of my day. When people invite me out, I have to decline half the time or I come at the tail end of the night because I’m working late. All of that adds up. I’ve only known this job and trying to be the best that I can possibly be that I’ve forgotten how to have fun. I don’t know anything other than this job.”

He looks away from you for a moment before returning back to your gaze. 

“I’m sorry I contributed to that.” 

“It’s not your fault. It comes with the job and I knew what I signed up for. You’ve been a lenient boss compared to other people at this company, and that says a lot.”

“I demand a lot from you, don’t I?” 

“Will I be in trouble if I agree?”

He smirks. “Maybe.” 

“Then my lips are sealed.” 

Sunghoon laughs. “I can relate to this job being a lifeline. It’s what I’ve wanted for so long, did you know that? I watched my dad do this work when I grew up and I always had a knack for negotiating. It was my calling and I did everything I could to work my way up from the bottom, even though I knew he’d make me a partner whenever I asked. Sometimes I wonder if I’m too invested in this business. My parents keep asking me when I’ll settle down, and I never have an answer.”

“Will you?”

He looks directly at you. “We’ll see about that. For now, I don’t think about it too much. I like my life and it’s too busy to care about those kinds of things anyhow. If the opportunity doesn’t present itself, I won’t force one to appear.” 

“I’m the same way, I think. I don’t really talk to my parents all that much, but when I do, they’re always asking about when I’ll get a husband. It’s never about my job and my life. It’s always about whether or not their only daughter will grow to be a spinstress.” 

“Surely you’ve been on a few dates since moving to Seoul, no? I would’ve figured you found somebody by now.” 

You ignore his comment for your sanity. “I’ve been on a few, yeah. All of them went nowhere. I’m not the type of person who goes on multiple first dates, though. That kind of stuff doesn’t happen for me naturally.”

“Don’t you use dating apps?”

You laugh humorlessly. “I tried for the first year. Had people swipe right and talked a little, but nothing ever transpired from that. I wondered if I was that awful to talk to or if people who used dating apps were shallow. I deleted them one night and never redownloaded them again.” 

“Dating apps are a scam anyway. Jaeyun uses them from time to time and runs into that same issue. Ever the romantic at heart, even though he won’t admit it.” 

“I want to meet someone naturally and get to know them before I decide anything.” You look at Sunghoon. “Sorry, was that too personal? We’re still at the office.” 

“Nah. Don’t worry about that. I was the one who asked. So you’re the type of person who believes in fate.” 

“Kind of? I don’t know if I’d put it like that, but I’m like you. I don’t want to force things if it’s clearly not going to work out. I’d rather save my time and breath instead of wasting it.” 

“I think that’s admirable.”

“It’s slow and miserable, is what it is.” 

Sunghoon throws his head back and laughs. “Slow and steady wins the race, doesn’t it? 

“It’s taking its sweet ass time.” 

“Don’t tell me you’re the type to date to marry.” 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Just making sure.” 

“I want to like the person I date and not go out with a bunch of guys to see who sticks. That seems unproductive. I want a guy to take me seriously and not look at me like I’m a sack of meat, for once. Someone who will put me first and not leave me unsatisfied.” 

The tips of your ears burn red when you finish your sentence. The implication of your words ring in your ears as you look at Sunghoon, but he looks at you like nothing you said was out of the ordinary. If he’s picked up on what you mean, he doesn’t tell you that he does. 

“Love is a hard thing to find. I don’t know what I’d do if I had it.” 

“Me either. Quitting this job isn’t about finding a boyfriend, per se, but it’s part of it. I want to have enough time to do whatever the hell I want, and that includes dating.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything for a minute. He looks at you like he’s trying to decipher something, and you’re having a hard time keeping still under his watchful gaze. But he turns his attention to the empty takeout cartons and the empty Thai tea cups, putting them back into the plastic bag before tossing them into the trash can. You watch as he compiles the documents back into its holding place before he looks at you. 

“We’ve spent a lot of time talking but we haven’t moved an inch with these projects. Are you up for coming back to my house and working for an hour or two? I can’t think in this damn office anymore and I want a glass of bourbon.” 

“I don’t know. I need to feed Pochi. I also drove to work today.”

“Tell your neighbor to do it. I’ll drive you to the office tomorrow morning.” 

When Sunghoon pulls into the driveway of his ginormous penthouse, you tell yourself the latest you’ll stay is ten o’clock. It’s half past eight and you’re not the least bit tired, which concerns you. Your neighbor has agreed to watch Pochi and knows where you keep your spare key in order to take her back to her apartment. Once she’s sent you a picture of Pochi eating from her bowl, you allow yourself to relax. 

His garage hides behind a served driveway that makes you feel like you’re at the entrance of a luxurious hotel. The garage itself looks like it could store five cars and Sunghoon’s Supra sits right next to the BMW he drives when he goes to work. The Supra is a convertible and what he likes to call his “weekend car.” It’s the vehicle he uses when he’s not working. It’s the one he used to pick you up when the two of you went to dinner. 

The foyer is as grand as you remember it. His interior is minimalistic with elements of nature scattered across the house in the form of decor. Photographs of sea and forests, sculptures, and delicate souvenirs decorate the living area. You’ve never been able to tone down your amazement when you visit. Sunghoon is clean and meticulous. His home reflects that. 

Like the gentleman Sunghoon is, he offers you alcohol when he pours himself a glass of bourbon, but you elect for ice water if you want to make it through the night on these projects. You need to be laser focused because you run the risk of sleeping right on his marble counter and on top of the documents currently sprawled out against the large kitchen island. He provides a salty, crunchy snack because he knows you don’t have a sweet tooth like he does. You cave in eventually and eat a few chips. 

It’s all business talk for the next hour and a half. He jumps from topic to topic in order to make sure everything is accounted for and things that need attention get taken care of. Working with him feels like fighting with a partner in crime. You understand the way his brain works and you’re able to keep up with him when he’s talking at a million miles an hour. This is the kind of attitude he puts up when he’s networking, and you’ve learned over the years that seldom do people get the full, talkative Sunghoon unless he’s trying to get something out of them. With you, it’s a never ending cycle of conversations and opinions. You hear from him more than you don’t and he doesn’t shy away from talking your ear off. 

It does make you feel special sometimes. Sunghoon always indulges you and never puts your ideas and opinion on the backburner. You like that he’s able to carry a conversation and knows when to shut up (for the most part). He gives you the same level of enthusiasm back and respects your space when you come into the office without your mood to socialize. Those days are for getting work done only, and you’ve come to appreciate Sunghoon’s ability to know when you aren’t feeling like yourself. 

It comes with working together for six years, naturally. Seeing each other more frequently than friends and family creates some kind of mutual understanding. You’d like to think it’s a great working relationship so far. Sunghoon starts with the big ideas and you fill in the details. He’s able to pull innovation out of you and you’re able to reel him in and think about logic. It’s like a perfectly oiled machine with no hiccups. It’s been like this since you can remember and you’ll miss it when you leave. 

Eventually, ten o’clock comes and your eyes grow tired of blinking. Sunghoon feels the same, as his tie is far too loose around his neck and his hair is sticking all over the place from him running his hand through it. You’re no better, either. Your hair is down from its updo and your makeup is smudging to the point of no return. 

You’re about to pack up and leave when Sunghoon stops you. 

“Stay the night.” 

“What?” 

“I’m too tired to drive you right now.” Sunghoon yawns. “I’m sorry, I know I said I would. I didn’t think I’d be so tired. You can stay in my guest bedroom.”

“I’ll call a cab or take the bus home.” 

“It’s late and I don’t want you out there by yourself. I’ll be awake and wondering if something happened to you.” 

His words feel oddly sentimental in the dead of night. You shake it off, though. You’re both tired. 

“Pochi needs me, Sunghoon. I can’t expect my neighbor to watch her without saying anything.”

“Text her, then. If she doesn’t want to, I’ll call you an Uber home.” 

you: Hi Nabi, I’m so sorry to text you so late. I’ve been caught up at work and don’t think I’ll be back until tomorrow. Do you think you can watch Pochi overnight and put her back in my apartment before you leave for work tomorrow?

nabi: ah, I see. you’re with your hot boss, aren’t you? If that’s the case, don’t worry about it. I’ll make sure pochi gets breakfast and replenish her water 

you: You’re a SAVIOR

nabi: didn’t deny being with ur hot boss. interesting 

you: Goodnight :) 

“Nabi’s gonna watch my cat for the night.” 

Sunghoon smiles tiredly. “Great. Let me show you to the guest bedroom and get you some clothes you can change into. There’s makeup remover and skin care stuff in the bathroom.”

“Do you make it a habit of keeping girls to the point where you keep that stuff in your house?”

He laughs. “No, but my sister comes to visit me often enough that I know to keep it in case she stays later than planned.” 

“That's…sweet.” 

“Just trying to be a good older brother.” 

He leads you to the guest bedroom and you’re far too sleepy to marvel at the sheer size. Sunghoon fetches a shirt and sleep shorts, both of which are a bit bigger on you, and bids you goodnight. It feels weird being in his house and staying the night, but Sunghoon was right. There’s no use calling a cab when you’re like this. You slip under the covers hoping for a restful, dreamless night. 

Except, you wake up three hours later and can’t seem to fall back to sleep. 

It’s like your body knows you aren’t where you’re supposed to be. You don’t recall any kind of dream when you realize you’re awake and staring at the ceiling. Tossing and turning don’t seem to be like great options either because it makes you feel even more restless than before. Surely a glass of water won’t be too much. Sunghoon is probably in his room and you watched where he grabbed his glass from. 

As you make your way towards the kitchen, you see the faint light of a television screen from around the corridor. Sunghoon sits on the couch in front of it. He’s watching a rerun of a drama that premiered earlier this year on low volume. When he hears your footsteps behind him, he turns around and is surprised to see that you’re awake. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” 

His voice is so raspy. Shit. 

“No. Don’t know why.”

“Me either.” 

He pats the seat next to him and you sit right next to him. Neither of you speaks, too engrossed in the drama to address how different the atmosphere feels. There’s no work, no obligations, and no boundaries that exist here. It’s like his living room is some kind of liminal space that’s putting you through a limbo you’ve never experienced before. Sunghoon’s body heat radiates into you and it feels like you might as well be sitting next to a human furnace. 

Neither of you talk about why you can’t sleep. You’re not sure why you’re having a hard time, especially since the guest bed is far more comfortable than the one you have back in your apartment. But you do notice Sunghoon peeking at you every once in a while. It makes you feel a bit uneasy because you’re not wearing any makeup and your hair is surely a mess from sleeping, but then you start to notice that he’s looking at you when the couple on the television screen kiss. 

It almost feels like you’re in a movie scene when you look back, too. Sunghoon catches your eyes and doesn’t look away this time. He holds your gaze and you gulp when you see his Adam’s apple move. 

Are you dreaming right now? Is this some kind of test the universe is putting you under? 

Time seems to have slowed down and you’re drowning out the noise of the television the more Sunghoon looks at you. At this moment, he isn’t your boss. He’s not somebody who you’ve learned from, nor is he somebody who is miles out of your league. Sunghoon is the handsome boy next door who you’ve had a small crush on for the past six years but have ignored for the sake of keeping the peace. He’s the guy you’d notice in the grocery store and would think about when you two eventually part ways. 

All of your thoughts cut off when you realize he’s leaning in close to you. 

On instinct, you lean in closer, too. The distance between the two of you closes slowly. He inches towards you like he’s attempting to be as cautious as possible, and you’re following his lead. Your body aches for him. That much you know. 

Sunghoon’s lips touch yours eventually and it’s nothing like the hot and steamy dream you had the night prior. Instead, it’s delicate like the touch of a feather. Neither of you dare to touch one another more than you already are with your knee brushing the side of his thigh. His lips feel so good against yours and that’s all you can think about. 

He pulls away after a brief moment and when he doesn’t see any resistance, Sunghoon moves to touch you. Sunghoon cradles your jaw so delicately and it’s a new feeling for you. Nobody has been this gentle while he’s touching you, and your confident demeanor lowers just a little bit. His lips are dangerously soft and warm. The sound of the kisses bouncing off of his walls makes you fall that much deeper. 

When you open your eyes for a peek at Sunghoon, his eyes are completely closed. 

You surge forward and put more pressure into the kiss. He responds well and matches your desire, tilting his head to the other side as if to explore this part of your mouth. It’s so wet and warm. Sunghoon’s hands move from your cheeks to your shoulder until it runs right down your arm. His fingertips dance along your own until he reaches the bottom hem of the shirt you’re wearing. 

Sunghoon’s hesitation turns you on even more. It’s like he’s trying to withhold himself from touching you even further for the fear of making you uncomfortable, and that grace alone makes you want him to touch you even more. Without a word, you push his hand underneath the material of the shirt, and Sunghoon grips your thigh like he’s never felt you before. You can’t remember a single time somebody has turned you on by a mere touch. Something about Sunghoon makes you want to run without looking back. 

There’s no real battle for who gets to be in control. You’re enjoying your time and it feels like Sunghoon is too, especially with the way he caresses your jaw while his lips are on you. You feel so safe in this moment and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Should kissing always feel like you’re ready to lose your inhibitions? Surely, this is a first for you. 

You don’t know who moves first, but you move onto his lap with his hands moving to your waist. He keeps you there like that with his mouth attached to yours and your arms balance on either side of his head while you sit yourself down onto him.

Sunghoon is rock hard underneath you. The two of you feel it. You gasp in shock and Sunghoon opens his eyes to look up at you. 

He’s big. You know he is. That taste of his imprint practically makes you salivate when you feel his dick perfectly slotted against your core for just a second. It excites you to no end, but the way Sunghoon’s looking at you makes you quiver.

“Fuck…” Sunghoon pushes you up and looks away from you to look at his dick straining against his sweatpants. “You weren’t supposed to make me hard.”

“You weren’t supposed to kiss me.”

“But I’ve always wanted to kiss you.” 

Sunghoon leans up to push a short lived peck to your lips. 

“I’m your assistant.

“That you are,” he says with a smile.

“And you’re my boss.” 

“That I am.” 

He smiles anyhow and maneuvers your body until he’s above you. Your back hits the cushions and all of a sudden, you can see just how turned on Sunghoon is. He looks like a mixture of innocent and mischievous, and you decide that’s a dangerous look for you to receive. 

Sunghoon bends down to kiss you again, this time with a little more bravado than the mere peck. Your arms wrap around his muscular shoulders as you pull him closer into your body. He braces himself with one arm beside the couch cushion and in the process, his covered dick pushes right against your core.

The feeling of Sunghoon slowly grinding against you is magnetic. It makes you grind right back into him and use his body as leverage to push yourself up from the couch. You let out a sharp moan when the fabric of your panties creates a delicious kind of friction against your clit. Sunghoon closes his eyes shut and moans too. 

His pace is moderate, but it’s enough for the two of you to become a bit lost. Sunghoon’s imprint makes you wetter when you realize he’s really big. It makes you shudder when you picture what it’ll feel like if Sunghoon puts it inside you. 

The two of you open your eyes at the same time. It’s as if some sort of veil has been uplifted when you see his sweaty forehead and when he sees your shirt ride up your body. The two of you back away from each other like fire and ice.

“W-Wow,” you stutter.

“I’m a good kisser, don’t you think?” 

You swat his bicep. “So arrogant and yet you were rutting into me like a dog in heat.” 

“Can you blame me?” Sunghoon asks, biting his lip. “You look like that while wearing my shirt.”

“Like what?”

“Sex on legs.” 

You choke. 

“Sunghoon.” 

He laughs and looks at the clock. It’s so late. You turn to look too, and the time makes your heart rate pick up. It’s past midnight and you two have to be up in four hours. 

“Shit,” you mumble. 

“Don’t want it to end, love?” 

You look back at him and, for whatever sheepish reason, nod. 

“We’ll have more time tomorrow.” 

Sunghoon bends down to kiss you twice more before pulling himself up and offering you a hand. He pulls you up as well and turns the TV off and leads you to your room before opening the door for you.

“Sunghoon—”

“I’ll make you cum tomorrow,” he promises before kissing you one last time. “For now, get some rest.” 

Your knees buckle when he looks you up and down. Sunghoon’s devilish grin doesn’t falter until you’ve forcibly closed the door on his face. 

***

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 (𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒) ; 𝐏. 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

➞ SUMMARY. “Typical Park Sunghoon behavior, you think. He had to tease you about it, of course he had to do it even if you were about to die from embarrassment because you just dropped the L bomb on him. You knew him, so of course, it was dumb of you to think that he wouldn’t pull something like this just for the sake of his own entertainment.”

alternatively.

the one where you confess to your best friend, and even if he felt the same way, he wanted to push your buttons just for a little bit more.

➞ PAIRING. best friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

➞ GENRE. mutual pining. bff2l. fluff. slight angst if you squint and tilt your head.

➞ TW. kissing. swearing. mentions of throwing up and passing out. sunghoon is a teasing menace</3 my e2l relationship with him is showing… // supposedly proofread but it could contain one or two grammar mistakes.

➞ WORD COUNT. 2.8k words

↳ A/N. shoutout to diana @ddenoudepression for helping me choose the pic for this silly little fic🫶 ty bestie mwah // this one is inspired on the song “feelings” by lauv (hence the title) so !! hope you enjoy this one<3 | comments and reblogs with tags are always welcomed and deeply appreciated🤍

↳ find my masterlist here.

THERE’S CALM SILENCE IN THE ROOM, BUT GRAINY STATIC SOUNDS INSIDE YOUR HEAD.

You’re laying side by side with your best friend in your bed, your breathings being steady and calm. The moon shines through the see-through curtains and there’s a comfortable silence between both of you.

Well, at least for Sunghoon, since you can’t seem to find peace with your rushing thoughts, overthinking because, at any given moment, if the boy just listened carefully and paid more attention to his surroundings, he could probably hear your heartbeat going at thousands miles per hour for him.

His arm is slightly brushing yours, and his hand is almost touching your hand, the distance being so little yet you found it to difficult to end it; you yearn to reach out, to intertwine his slender fingers with yours.

How would it feel to be able to hold hands with him?

You hear him sigh deeply and then, he raises a little from his lying position and rests his head on his hand to rest on his right side. His silver hair is a mess, and you have to fight back the itching of your fingers caused by how badly they ached to touch his soft locks and comb it out of his pretty face. His brown, sleepy eyes are now on your form, looking attentively at you with tenderness hiding behind them.

(It’s not like you can actually see it, though: it’s pretty dark and you’re just trying to not stumble over your words with your feelings bubbling up in your throat and threatening to spill all over the place.)

(Now that would be chaotic.)

“Why did he have to look this ethereal even when he isn’t even trying? This is beyond unfair.”

“This is the quietest you’ve ever been since I know you, Y/n,” the boy barely whispers with his deep voice, as he was trying to not scare you by suddenly talking. You scoff, rolling your eyes a little.

“It’s pretty late now, you know? I’m just feeling tired, that’s it...”

There’s a beat of silence and then, you hear him humming deep in thought as if he wanted to add something more, but he quickly discards the idea as it comes. You see him shake his head, opting instead on giving you a small boyish smile.

“Okay, if you say so.”

It’s when he’s about to lay completely in bed again, that you suddenly sit up and look at him (and you realize that it was a really bad idea since you got a little dizzy from the quick movement). The boy sits up too, eyeing you with something between confusion and curiousness. He blinks twice, and tilts his head a little.

“Uhm... Are you sure you’re okay, y/n?”

No, you want to tell him. This isn’t okay Sunghoon, I’m not okay. Because whenever I see you, I feel as if a fucking lighting bolt just hit my body, making me feel electrified, I feel like I want to throw up for these bottled feelings i’ve kept inside my for months now, and I feel like I could just do the most imposible things if I have you at my side. I want to scream and I want to laugh and I fucking hate it but I also I fucking love the way you make me feel. You make me feel things I thought I’d never feel and—

“Uhh, earth to y/n? Are you there?” He snaps his fingers in front of your eyes, taking you out of your discourse. Shaking your head, you give him a pointed stare.

It’s time Y/n! a small voice screams inside your head, do you want to be a fucking coward all your life? You have to tell him! There’s nothing to lose, right? Only your friendship... oh my god, you could face rejection too? What if he thinks you’re—

“Y/n you’re really scaring me right now, are you sure you feel okay? You really seem like you’re going to pass out at any moment.” He puts a hand on your forehead, flinching wide eyed when he feels the heat of your body, “god! You’re burning! Should I call Jungwon?... No wait, What kind of question is that? Of course I'm calling him!” He face-palms himself, taking his phone out quickly as he starts searching for Jungwon’s phone number.

Jungwon? Why would he call him? Maybe because he’s the most responsible out of your friend group… Yeah, Jake would probably just panic and cry, and Jay wouldn’t even answer his phone since he was probably sleeping right now… Am I zoning out? I’m definitely zoning out— NO, WAIT!

You hold his wrist in panic and he mirrors your expression. He was so confused, why were you acting so weird tonight?

“No wait, I’m really okay Sunghoon.. It’s just that—“ you clear your throat, trying to focus your eyes everywhere else except him. Do you really want to confess? “‘—I’ve been… I’ve been thin–thinking lately—“

“Oh,” he interrupts, holding a funny look in his eyes and dropping his phone besides both of you. “Oh. I know what is happening then.”

Those seven words escaping his mouth makes your stomach drop in anxiousness. Did he really know?

Sunghoon always prides himself on knowing you like the back of his hand, and while that would be endearing in a different context, now this felt like it could backfire at you right in this situation.

“W–what? You know? W–wait Sunghoon—“

However, his next actions make the words die in your throat before you can even start to pronounce them, because the boy proceeds to boldly cup your face with both hands and smirk at you.

Is he gonna kiss me? No wait, I don’t think I’m ready. Oh no, the panic is settling in, I’m about to pass out because my crush is gonna kiss me and he’s going to have to call both Jungwon and an ambulance for real this time and–

“Yeah! It’s weird since I really didn’t think you could think? But that probably explains why it started to smell like something was burning in here. You were just trying to use that pretty little head of yours!”

He softly knocks on your forehead as if it was a door, and when you don’t say anything to him, instead choosing to stare blankly at him with those gorgeous eyes that he loved the most, Sunghoon allows himself to fall into a laughing fit. You don’t even know if you want to punch him for his teasing antics, calm your erratic heartbeat and tell your soul that it’s safe to come back before it could completely leave your body because he hasn’t discovered your —not so— secret crush on him, or feel disappointed because he’s definitely not going to kiss you. Pushing him in a rather hasher manner (which… wasn’t intended at all) his cackling comes to an end with a small yelp when he almost falls off the bed, having to get a hold of your arm to prevent it from happening.

“You’re a fucking dumbass, Park Sunghoon!”

He gives you a goofy smile, his heart fluttering inside his chest at seeing you try to bite back a smile. “But you’re laughing too!”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m trying to be all serious here, and you just had to say your stupid comments!”

You unconsciously pout in frustration, making his smile grow ten times wider. Clearing his throat, he straightens his back and makes a hand gesture as if to tell you to keep talking.

“Well then. I promise you I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” he raises his pinky finger and intertwines it with yours, kissing it to seal the promise (and almost making you blush.) “Speak now Y/n.”

Speak now, but not as the Taylor Swift song (you loved that song, by the way), this “speak now” was more like: confess your feelings now or die regretting not taking the opportunity when it was offered to you, later.

(“Your time is running out, and they said ‘speak now’”… Huh, if you think about it closely, every single Taylor Swift’s lyrics can be applied on a daily basis’ situation.)

Stopping your train of thought before you can zone out —again—, you sigh deeply, straighten your back and mirror his sitting position so you can look at him dead in the eye.

Fuck it, let’s do this.

Counting down to three in your head, you gulp down the nervousness.

“I—I think I’m... I’m in love with you Sunghoon.”

Impressive how six words and twenty-nine characters can be so simple yet still be hard to pronounce out loud, especially because of the heavy feelings lingering behind them. Your confession leaves your lips in a rather hushed tone, and if it wasn’t for the dead silence and the closeness you both were sitting in, he probably wouldn’t have ever heard it.

But he did. Of course Park Sunghoon heard your love confession, because if he hadn’t, then what would explain the bewildered expression he was sporting right now?

Did you... Did you just say you love him? Was this a joke? Did Niki tell you to say this to him to see how he would react?

Scratch that away. No, you’d never play along to a joke like that, especially involving him —your best friend— with something like this.

He feels his head going in a frenzy as he tries to search for some logical explanations, his breath hitches in his throat and his heart is going wild like he just has run a thousand mile marathon. You loved him, that’s what you said, right? Was his mind playing weird tricks to mess with his feelings because he was sleepy?

There was no way that you, the person he has been pinning for years now, has really told him that she’s in love with him.

He stares at you, dumbfounded at the recent information you had unfolded at him. Sadly, you can’t listen to his thoughts just to know that the feeling is, indeed, mutual. You can no longer breathe in that uncomfortable silence you just created for the both of you.

Damn, so this is what the second leads from the k-dramas you binge watch on netflix feel whenever they get rejected.

Oh my god, I’m so dumb right? I’m not just a clown: I’m the whole act! No– wait, it’s worse: I’m the entire fucking circus! Okay, okay, breathe. Let’s not panic. We keep ourselves cool and exit like a girl boss… A girlboss that just got rejected–

Blinking down the tears that were threatening to form, you stand up from the bed and look ahead of the door.

“Uh, sorry about all of this,” stumbling over your words, you start walking away. “Just— just forget I ever said anything, okay? I–I think I should get going—“

“No, wait!”

Sunghoon’s quick on his feet, rising from his seating position too before you can get further away from him. He pulls you by your hand, making you collide against his strong chest.

Well, if you weren’t panicking before, now you are, starting to feel the embarrassment along with the warm blush slowly creeping up your neck to make its way to your face. Right in this moment, you were thankful that your face wasn’t available for Sunghoon to see, because you knew you would get teased to no end.

There’s some seconds of silence after that, you get to perceive everything ten thousand times stronger, from the soft fabric of his turquoise sweater that you were gripping with your fingers, to his musky cologne. And maybe it was because you were too mortified because of the situation, because if you’ve paid more attention, you’d have also seen how Sunghoon was fighting for his life because having you this close to him was making him melt.

It was like something taken straight out of his daydreams. Sunghoon has always wanted to hold you this close to him.

But even if he wanted to voice out his feelings too, the little devil on his left side was telling him to push your buttons just a little bit more. He wanted to dwell in the effect —he just recently discovered— he had on you.

Clearing his throat to call for your attention (which is pointless since you keep your gaze fixed somewhere else instead of him), you hear his breathy voice calling your name.

“Y/n…” You feel one of his arms sneaking around your waist, making your breath hitch in your throat. “I—I understand it, you know? And I totally feel you.”

You feel your composure slowly dissolving at hearing those words.

“What?”

Sunghoon hums. “I totally get it, I mean; who wouldn’t fall in love with me? I mean, look at me!”

He parts away from you a little and points at himself proudly. You can’t even process those words, staring at him speechless.

Was he… teasing you for having a crush on him?

Blinking three times at the tall boy in a shocked state, the realization dawns upon you after he starts laughing at your flabbergasted face. Typical Park Sunghoon behavior, you think. He had to tease you about it, of course he had to do it even if you were about to die from embarrassment because you just dropped the L bomb on him. We are talking about Park Sunghoon here: your best friend since you wore diapers, your best friend since boys thought girls had cooties and your best friend since you were through your awkward teen years when everything felt uncomfortable and your classmates shipped the both of you together. You knew him, so of course, it was dumb of you to think that he wouldn’t pull something like this just for the sake of his own entertainment.

God, now he was just being plain stupid.

The red in your face gets stronger with each minute that passes, so punching him in the chest, you cover your face with both hands to hide away from him. You feel his arms enclosing your waist again to pull you closer, his chest vibrating against you as you hear his joyful cackling against your ears.

You internally curse Jake for telling you that your crush wasn’t one-sided at all. (And he was right, Sunghoon was the most obvious person when it came to stare at you like you were the one that put the stars in the sky, and talk about you like you were the eight wonder. You just happened to be very oblivious)

“Please god, end this or end me now. Whichever you’d like to do first” you think.

You’re too focused on your internal monologue that you don’t even notice Sunghoon’s laughing fit coming to an end.

“Hey, Y/n? Look at me.”

You huff, shaking your head in denial.

“... No, leave me alone”

He hugs you tighter with one arm, the other letting go of your waist and reaching your face so he could pull away your hands covering your flushed face. When he gets what he wants, he searches for your eyes.

His face is inches away from yours, you can feel his breath fanning against your lips and his eyes hold so many stars that it makes your stomach do a flip. Cupping one side of your face with his hand, he puts his thumb against your lower lip.

“Not gonna lie.. I wanted to be the first one to confess. But,” he shrugs, a small smirk making its way in his handsome features, “oh well… Looks like you just beat me to it.”

Pause. Rewind… What?

“Sunghoon,” you voice out threateningly, “I swear to god, if you’re just—“

You’re not even halfway your comment before the white haired boy leans in and closes the space between the both of you, his lips capturing yours in a tender kiss. Everything about it screams love and adoration for you, and it makes you feel dizzy. His mouth moves softly against yours while his thumb caresses your cheek. You sigh softly against him, and the boy can’t help but grin into the kiss.

Separating after some seconds to catch some air, the boy can’t help but coo in adoration at seeing your eyes fluttering. Sunghoon rests his forehead against yours and smiles.

“I swear I’d never play with something like this, Y/n.” He says now with a serious tone and a determined look in his eyes. Then, he leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead, and on your cheek. “I’m in love with you too, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. Crazy right? But,” he shrugs trying to play it cool, “I can’t help it, you’re just too perfect.”

Sunghoon ends his little love confession with a small kiss on your nose, melting on the inside at hearing you giggle.

You feel your chest warming up at his antics and at his heartfelt words.

In that moment, you swear that one of these days, Park Sunghoon was going to be the death of you.

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