Bqrdercarnival - Tumblr Blog

── ❝ ꒰ 𝒰𝑆 𝒜𝐺𝐴𝐼𝑁𝑆𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑊𝑂𝑅𝐿𝐷.ᐟㅤ ៸៸﹙ 박성훈 ﹚ ᶻ𐰁

GENRE ៸៸ forbidden relationship ៸ oneshot ﹔ SYPNOSIS┆in which your forbidden boyfriend sneaks into your room .ᐟㅤ ꒰ WORD COUNT﹕1089 ꒱── 𝓦ARNING(S) not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ pet names ៸ . ݁ ✦ ݁ . ⊱ LIBRARY . . . ﹕LUNA 💭 —seunghan’s back!!!!!!! we wonnnn ( ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

THE NIGHT WAS SUFFOCATINGLY QUIET, JUST LIKE IT HAD BEEN THE PAST FEW WEEKS.

the kind of quiet that pressed heavily against your windows, making the outside world feel impossibly far away.

you sat at your desk, staring at the pages of your textbook, though none of the words are registering.

your mind is far from the lines of text in front of you—it’s with sunghoon.

you sigh, closing your eyes, the aching in your chest growing unbearable.

you missed him—you missed him more than you could put into words, and it hurt.

it had been weeks since you last spoke, weeks since your parents found out about your relationship and threatened to ruin everything if you didn’t end it.

they were furious, telling you that someone like sunghoon—a boy with a reputation, from a family not up to their “standards”—was not worthy of their daughter. ─── 𝘔𝘖𝘙𝘌 𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘊𝘜𝘛 .ᐟㅤ

it felt like they’d ripped a piece of your heart out when they forced you to cut off all contact.

they took your phone, made sure you couldn’t see him at school, warning that if you even spoke to him again, they’d get his parents fired from their jobs.

and you had no choice but to listen—for his sake, you pulled away, doing what they wanted, even if it shattered you in the process.

suddenly, a soft clink breaks through the silence of your room, startling you.

you blink, lifting your head, your brow furrowed.

the sound comes again, this time louder—a sharp tap against the glass of your window.

you stand, slowly crossing the room, your heart beginning to race—you pull the curtains back, and what you see makes your heart stop.

sunghoon.

he’s standing below your window, his dark eyes locked onto yours, his hair messy from the wind.

he’s breathing heavily, and you can see the exhaustion in his posture, but there’s a familiar determination in his eyes that makes your heart swell.

you push open the window, your voice catching in your throat. “sunghoon?” you whisper, your eyes wide.

“hey, princess,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips. “can i come up?”

you nod, stepping back, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might break through your ribcage.

you watch as he pulls himself up, his arms straining as he climbs through the window, stumbling slightly as he falls onto your bed, panting softly.

you stand there, frozen, your eyes filling with tears as you take in the sight of him—his familiar face, his tired smile, the way his eyes soften when they meet yours.

he looks at you, opening his arms, and his voice is gentle, filled with love. “come here.”

it’s all it takes for you to break—you let out a choked sob, launching yourself towards him, your arms wrapping around his neck, your face burying in his chest.

he holds you tightly, his arms wrapping around you as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go.

you feel the tears spill down your cheeks, soaking into his shirt, and he doesn’t say anything—just holds you, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back.

“i missed you so much,” you sob, your voice muffled against his chest. “i—i didn’t want to, but they—”

“shh, i know, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing against the top of your head. “it’s okay. i know.”

you pull back slightly, looking up at him, your eyes red and puffy, tears still streaming down your face.

“they said they’d get your parents fired,” you say, your voice breaking. “i didn’t want to lose you, but i couldn’t let them do that to you. i’m so sorry, sunghoon.”

his eyes soften, and he reaches up, cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears.

“hey, don’t apologize,” he says, his voice gentle. “i get it. i know you did it for me.”

you nod, a shaky breath escaping you, and he pulls you closer, his forehead resting against yours.

“i hate them,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “i hate that they’re trying to keep us apart. if they knew you were here, they’d kill us.”

a small smile tugs at his lips, his eyes filled with a warmth that makes your heart ache.

“at least i’d die with you,” he says, his voice soft, and you let out a breathy laugh, the sound caught between a sob and a giggle.

“you’re an idiot,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the fabric of his shirt.

“yeah, but i’m your idiot,” he says, his lips brushing against your forehead, and you close your eyes, a sense of peace washing over you.

in his arms, everything else fades away—the fear, the worry, the pain of being apart, none of it matters, not when he’s here, holding you like this.

you pull back slightly, looking up at him, your eyes meeting his.

there’s so much love in his gaze, so much emotion that it takes your breath away.

he leans in, his lips brushing softly against yours, and it’s gentle, almost hesitant, as if he’s trying to memorize the feel of you.

you kiss him back, your hands cupping his face, and it feels like coming home—like you’re finally where you’re meant to be.

when you pull away, he smiles at you, his forehead resting against yours.

“i love you,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, as if it’s a secret meant just for you.

“i love you too,” you whisper back, your heart swelling with so much emotion it feels like it might burst.

he pulls you back into his arms, holding you tightly, and you close your eyes, breathing him in, the scent of him filling your senses.

you know this moment won’t last forever—that eventually, he’ll have to leave, and you’ll be back to pretending, back to hiding.

but for now, you have this. you have him, and that’s enough.

and as you lay there, wrapped in his arms, you know that no matter what your parents say, no matter how hard they try to keep you apart, they can’t take this away from you.

they can’t take the love you have for each other, the way he makes you feel alive in a way you never thought possible.

and maybe, someday, you’ll find a way to be together, without all the secrets and the fear.

but until then, you’ll hold onto this—onto him—and you’ll fight for the love you have, no matter what it takes.

© won4kiss 2024

𝒯aglist open ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @greentulip @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @pockyyasii @iluvnikism @wonsprincess @rikibwn @niawonn @nineooooo

៸៸ ❝ PLEASE REBLoG AND LiKE .ᐟㅤ 💌

unspoken roads ㅡ park sunghoon

pairing - rising actor!sunghoon x fem movie director!reader

genre - romantic drama, contemporary romance, coming-of-age, lovers to exes to lovers (everyone deserves a happy ending), slight angst

warnings - none, other than writing this sent me on an emotional rollercoaster :’) maybe somewhat an open ending? (lmk if i missed anything!)

wc -  3.8k

synopsis - Once inseparable in the vibrant city of LA, Sunghoon and Y/N chased their dreams–he, a rising star in modelling and acting; she, a passionate filmmaker. When success pulled them apart, they believed they had lost each other for good. Years later, fate reunites them on the set of a film–she’s the director, he’s the lead actor. As old feelings resurface, they must confront whether their love can survive the same dreams that once tore them apart. Can they rewrite their story, or are some loves meant to remain lost?

a/n - hi!! so I can't even count the amount of times I cried while writing this, it genuinely sent me on a huge rollercoaster of emotions </3 Eitherway, the inspiration for this fic was NIKI's song "La la lost you"! Listening to the song made me think about the intent of the song, two lovers being separated in two different cities so - actor sunghoon in nyc and film director reader in la was born! I promise there will be more fluffy stories, but I hope you enjoy regardless! | bookshelf

On his rare day off, Sunghoon had no real destination in mind. Wrapped up against the biting winter air, he strolled through the streets of New York, the buzz of the city moving around him like a blur. Normally, he thrived in the energy of it all–the constant movement, the endless opportunities–but today felt different. There was nothing pressing on his schedule, no meetings, no rehearsals. Just time.

And in the quiet of that space, his thoughts drifted back to you. It wasn’t the first time. Every now and then, especially on days like this, he’d find himself lost in memories of LA. The way you used to pull him into some obscure café or alley, insisting it was your special place, even though anyone could’ve stumbled upon it. The way you’d get excited about your next project, your eyes shining with that determination he always admired. He hasn’t thought of those moments in a while–not intentionally, anyway–but they had a habit of creeping in when things slowed down, when he wasn’t distracted by work or the hustle of the city.

The cold air stung his skin, but the memories warmed him in a way that left him feeling both nostalgic and hollow. There were no answers in those memories, just lingering what-ifs.

It had been five years since he last saw you, and every moment since then felt like an echo of what his life had been before. The streets of New York had become all too familiar over the past years, yet it wasn’t the familiarity that hurt. Sunghoon had carved out a life here–navigating through the bustling avenues, attending high-profile events, and landing roles that had once felt like distant dreams. But as he walked through the city that had become his home, a weight settled in his chest. The echoes of laughter and love he once shared with you lingered in his mind, making the vibrant lights of the city feel hollow. He couldn’t shake the memories of you–the way you had once laughed beside him in the warm glow of the Los Angeles sun, the way you danced barefoot on the beach together as the sun set behind you. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever feel that spark again, lost in a city that reminded him of everything he had chosen to leave behind. One would say he’s living the dream, but to him it would never be complete without you in it. In LA, everything felt simple. Effortless even. But that was before the distance, before the cold realisation that dreams sometimes took people in different directions.

His breath came out in soft clouds as he walked aimlessly, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He had come here for a reason–some interviews, some shoots, the kind of opportunity he used to dream about when he was younger. Now, it felt hollow, like every victory he earned since you left only reminded him of what he no longer had. He tried to move on, to drown himself in work, but the thought of you lingered in the back of his mind like a song he couldn’t stop humming.

The last time he saw you was back home, standing in the doorway of your shared apartment. You had smiled that bittersweet smile of yours, the one that told him you were proud of him, even though you knew this was goodbye. “New York’s waiting for you,” you said, your voice steady despite the tears in your eyes. “I know you’ll shine there.”

He wanted to believe you, wanted to believe that this was just another chapter, that there would be more time later. But now, with the distance between you stretching not just across cities but across hearts, he wasn’t so sure.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him back to the present. It was a message from one of the guys, asking him to meet up for dinner. He ignored it for now, his gaze drifting up to the skyline. The city felt vast, cold, and impersonal, but it was exactly where you wanted to be–pursuing your own dreams. You always loved New York, even as a child. You used to tell him how you could picture yourself walking down Broadway, sipping coffee in Central Park, living the life you’d always imagined.

And now he was there. Living it without you.

A part of him wished you had asked him to stay, but he knew it wouldn’t have been fair. He couldn’t expect you to give up everything you worked for just because he was chasing his dreams. Love wasn’t about holding each other back, and he knew that the moment he boarded the plane to New York. Still, that didn’t make the ache any easier to bear. Leaving you behind in LA felt like leaving a part of himself behind, and even after all these years in a city that became his second home, he couldn’t shake the emptiness of what he left behind.

He paused in front of a small coffee shop, the kind you would’ve loved. He could almost see you sitting inside, a book in your hand, your eyes lighting up as you talked about your latest idea for a new movie. The pang of hope was sharp, almost cruel. For a moment, he considered walking in, pretending that maybe time stood still, that the years and distance didn’t erase what you were.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Because he knew–you weren’t waiting for him anymore. And somehow, that truth was heavier than the weight of all the dreams he's ever chased.

Sunghoon sighed, his breath visible in the air again, and turned away from the shop. Maybe this was just how it was meant to be—two people who loved each other but had to let go to chase their own stars. Maybe, in another life, another version of New York or LA, things would have been different.

But for now, the distance was too great, the city too vast. And he was lost. Lost in New York. Lost without you.

As he walked back towards the subway, the city buzzing around him, Sunghoon couldn’t help but whisper to himself, "La la, I lost you."

A few days later, as Sunghoon sat in the backseat of the car, his mind wandered once again, almost on cue. The streets of New York became second nature to him by now, but today felt distant, like background noise to the memories swirling in his head. He hasn’t thought about LA in a while, or at least, he hasn’t allowed himself to. But today, as the city rushed past, his thoughts drifted back to you, like they did the other day when he passed by the café. The quiet moments you shared, the late-night conversations, the way your eyes would light up when you talked about your dreams–it all felt so vivid, as if time didn’t pass at all.

It was strange how quickly memories crept up on him, slipping through the cracks of his busy life. Especially now, on the brink of something new. He wondered if you still thought about him in quiet moments too. Lost in thought, he barely noticed the car pulling up to the studio. With a sigh, he pushed the memories back down, burying them like always, as he stepped out to face the day ahead.

Sunghoon walked through the studio’s doors, his usual calm demeanour in place. The hustle and energy of the place were familiar–people darting from one end to another, lighting technicians testing their setups, and makeup artists chatting with the stylists as they prepared for the day. He had grown accustomed to the noise, the constant buzz of activity that came with every project, but this one felt different. Bigger.

“Sunghoon!” His manager’s voice broke through the noise as she approached, holding a thick packet of papers in her hand–the script. “This is the one, I’m telling you. It’s a career-defining role, the perfect chance to showcase everything you’ve been working for. The studio’s all-in on this, and they’re backing you hard. You’re going to be the lead of something special.”

He nodded, taking the script from her hands, and flipping through the pages absentmindedly. He already knew the outline–he agreed to this project because the story spoke to him. It was intense, emotionally raw, and complex. But he didn’t have the chance to dive into the full script yet.

He leaned back in his chair, his fingers tracing the edges of the script as he glanced over the pages. The movie, Unspoken Roads, had an almost magnetic pull–something about it felt deeply personal, even if he couldn’t quite place why.

The script unfolded like a slow-burning memory. Doyun, a man in his late twenties, had lost five years of his life to an accident–five years, including the memories of a woman he once loved, Eunjin. She was written as a beacon in Doyun’s forgotten past, someone he couldn’t recall but felt inexplicably drawn to. A road trip was their journey, but also a metaphor for piecing together shattered fragments of love, memories scattered by time. Each word seemed to pulse with the weight of something Sunghoon himself had long buried

Sunghoon paused. His eyes lingered on a line: “You can’t remember me, but I never forgot you.”

The words blurred as they sank in. Unconsciously, his breath hitched, his heart squeezing painfully in his chest. Doyun’s journey, his confusion, his longing for a love he couldn’t recall–it hit too close to home. Sunghoon didn’t lose his memories, but it felt like he had lost something just as precious when he left LA. When he left you.

It hit too close to home, almost painfully so. He hasn’t thought about you in years–rather attempted not to–or maybe he did, constantly, but kept shoving the thoughts away, burying them beneath his rising career and busy schedules. But reading this, watching Doyun retrace a love he couldn’t remember, Sunghoon felt like he was standing in those shoes. He thought of you, the one he left behind in LA, the one who told him to go, to chase his dreams without you.

“We’re better off this way.” That’s what you said, wasn’t it? Or maybe you said nothing at all, just smiling through the sadness. And like Eunjin in the script, you had your own ambitions, your own road to take. He told himself it was the right choice. So why did it still feel wrong?

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. This isn’t about her, he reminded himself. It’s just a script. But as he read through the pages, your face kept flashing in his mind–every line felt like a whisper of the past, tugging at the feelings he so desperately tried to move on from.

Doyun and Eunjin’s story was all too familiar. The lost time, the unsaid words, the lingering question of what if? What if he had stayed? What if you had asked him to? Would things have been different? Could you have worked it out?

He swallowed hard, blinking away the sudden weight behind his eyes. Sunghoon didn’t sign up for this movie expecting it to strike so deeply, to unravel feelings he had locked away. Without realising it, a tear slipped down his cheek, then another, until his vision blurred entirely. The line between the script and his own past dissolved, and for a moment, he wasn’t reading Doyun’s story. He was living his own.

“Sunghoon, makeup’s ready,” a voice interrupted, like a background hum.

His thumb brushed against the tear-stained page as he stared blankly at the final scene. Doyun and Eunjin were standing face-to-face, years of separation between them, the weight of time palpable. His breath stuttered as he read Doyun’s final plea: “I lost you once. Please, I can’t lose you again. I love you too much, Eunjin.”

That line… was it something he would’ve said if he ever had the chance to see you again? Or has he already lost you for good?

“Sunghoon?” His manager’s voice was closer, more urgent.

He still didn’t respond, lost in the words, lost in a past that long slipped through his fingers. Tears continued to fall, silent but steady, until a firm hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him back to reality.

“Sunghoon!” His manager shook him gently.

He blinked, startled, realising his cheeks were wet. “Huh?” he mumbled, wiping his face quickly, disoriented by the emotion that caught him off guard.

His manager’s concerned eyes met his. “You okay? You’re… crying.”

Sunghoon touched his burning cheek, noticing the tears for the first time. He didn’t even realise. He let out a shaky breath, trying to compose himself. “Yeah, I… I’m fine. Just–this script, it’s–”

“Yeah, I know. It’s intense. But are you good to go? Makeup’s waiting.”

Sunghoon nodded, though his heart was still heavy. “Yeah. I’m fine- Let’s go.” He closed the script gently, his fingers lingering on the edges. But the lines he read, the emotions they stirred–they clung to him. Even as he stood and walked toward the makeup room, his mind was still back there, stuck between the story of Doyun and Hana, and the echoes of his own.

Maybe this wasn’t just another role. Maybe this movie found him, found him for a reason. Maybe it was time to face the past he left behind.

As Sunghoon stepped into the makeup room, the bustling atmosphere of the studio surrounded him. Makeup artists flitted about, their brushes and palettes busy transforming the actors into their characters. Sunghoon settled into a chair, trying to shake off the lingering emotions from reading the script, but the thoughts of Doyun and Eunjin clung to him like a shadow.

“Just relax, Sunghoon,” one of the makeup artists said, applying foundation to his skin with gentle strokes. He nodded absently, his mind still tangled in the narrative. But then, amidst the hum of conversation and the sounds of the studio, he heard it–a voice drifting through the air, clear and commanding.

“Okay, everyone, let’s go over the scene one more time. I need everyone on the same page!” The voice was familiar, and for a moment, he couldn’t place it. It pulled at his heart, wrapping around him like a memory he couldn’t quite grasp.

“Can we get the lighting adjusted over here, please? And make sure the sound levels are perfect for this scene. I need every detail to be flawless!” The voice was firm yet light, filled with a confidence that stirred something deep within him.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched as he froze. It couldn’t be. It had to be his mind playing tricks on him, right? Maybe the emotional turbulence from reading the script had scrambled his senses. He turned slightly in the chair, straining to hear better, but the voice faded into the cacophony of the studio. He felt a pull, an inexplicable urge to move, to follow the sound that resonated in his chest.

“Sunghoon, could you please face me?” his makeup artist asked, but he couldn’t hear her.

He had to know if it was you—if it was really you. 

“Excuse me, I just need a moment,” he said, surprising even himself as he stood up abruptly, startling the makeup artist. Without waiting for a response, he stepped out of the makeup room, heart pounding in his chest. He could still hear the voice down the corridor, and it felt like a beacon, guiding him.

As he approached the set, he held his breath, his mind racing. He rounded the corner, and there you were—standing with your back to him, surrounded by crew members who listened intently as you went over the details of the upcoming scene. You were as stunning as he remembered, even from behind. Your hair flowed down your back, and your focused stance exuded confidence.

Sunghoon’s heart raced. Was this real? Could it be? He took a cautious step forward, then another, compelled by the desire to see your face. He hesitated, feeling the weight of the moment press heavily on him.

“Y/N?” he called out, his voice shaking with disbelief, uncertainty twisting in his stomach. With shaking hands, he reached out as if to touch your shoulder, but stopped short. He couldn’t bring himself to reach out, not yet. What if he was just imagining this? What if the moment shattered if he dared to touch you?

You turned at the sound at your name, and the world around you fell silent. Your heart raced as your eyes met his. The surprise written across your face mirrored his own—a mixture of shock and disbelief washed over both of you, making the air feel electric.

“Sung- Sunghoon?” you breathed, your voice barely escaping your lips as you took a tentative step forward, your heart pounding in your chest. 

The distance between you both felt both infinite and painfully close. You hadn’t seen him in years, yet here he stood, transformed into a man who chased his dreams and succeeded. The man you once loved, now in front of you as the lead actor in the very film you were directing.

Tears brimmed in your eyes, threatening to spill over. “Is- is this real?”

“I thought I’d never see you again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The memories of the last time you saw each other flooded back—his departure, the hurt in your eyes, the way you fought to smile through the pain. He left to chase his dreams, and now, standing in front of you, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of that decision pressing on him.

Your lips trembled as you fought to maintain composure. “I never forgot you. I thought… I thought maybe I’d lost you for good, Hoon…” A single tear slipped down your cheek, glimmering under the studio lights.

Sunghoon felt his own emotions surge, the dam he had built around his heart breaking down in an instant. “I didn’t know how to come back,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you every day, Y/N…”

The tears fell freely now, and he wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, struggling to keep himself together. “I was so scared of what I left behind. And now… now here you are.”

You stepped closer, the distance between you disappearing entirely. “It’s like a dream,” you murmured, your voice cracking as you reached up to touch his face. “I never imagined I’d see you like this:”

Sunghoon felt the warmth of your hand against his cheek, grounding him in the moment. “Neither did I,” he said, his own tears flowing as he looked deeply into your eyes, searching for the love that had always been there, waiting patiently through the years. Instinctively, he reached up to hold your hand—the one resting against his cheek. His fingers intertwined with yours, and a wave of warmth washed over him, melting away the uncertainty that had clouded his heart for so long.

In that simple gesture, everything fell into place. The soft touch of your skin ignited memories of all the moments you shared—every laugh, every whispered secret, and every fleeting glance that had left him breathless. It felt like home, like the missing piece he had longed for during the years spent apart.

You looked at him, eyes softening as he held your hand tightly, as if afraid to let go. “Hoon…” you sighed, filled with a mixture of awe and longing.

“I’ve missed this—missed you,” he confessed, his voice trembling. The tears continued to spill down his face, and he didn’t bother to wipe them away anymore. “It feels like I’ve been searching for you in every role, in every city. I never wanted to forget, but I didn’t know how to find my way back…”

You squeezed his hand, your gaze unwavering. “You didn’t forget. Not really. I felt you with me, even when you were so far away, It’s like we were always connected, despite everything.”

As the weight of your shared history hung in the air, he took a step closer, closing the distance between you. With a gentle but deliberate motion, Sunghoon raised his other hand, resting it on the side of your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. He leaned in, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. The world around you faded into a soft blur, and in that intimate space, it felt like time had stopped. The tears had slowed, but the emotions still ran deep, swirling in the space between your shared breaths.

He let out a shaky exhale, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and resolve. “I lost you once,” he whispered, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart skip a beat. “Please… I can’t lose you again.” His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through, the emotion clear in every syllable. “I love you too much, Y/N.”

The words hit you like a wave, crashing over you with the realisation that he was quoting one of your lines—the very words you had written for Doyun in the script. Hearing them from his lips, directed at you, made everything feel surreal and achingly poetic. You stared into his tear filled eyes, your heart racing, knowing that those words carried a deeper weight now than they ever had on the page.

You had written those lines with love in mind, never expecting them to be spoken back to you by the man who had once been your world. And now, as he stood there, saying them with every ounce of sincerity, it felt like fate had brought your story fully circle.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were different. They weren’t born from heartache but from the overwhelming sense of love that you thought you had lost forever. “Sunghoon…” you whispered, voice trembling as your hand gently caressed his cheek.

He leaned into your touch, eyes never leaving yours, the raw vulnerability between you palpable. “I’ve never stopped loving you, and I’ll never make the mistake of letting you go again,” he continued, his voice stronger this time, his hand squeezing yours. “I was lost without you. I’m done running.”

The world felt quiet, like it was holding its breath for the two of you. And as you stood there, hand in hand, you knew this wasn’t just an ending—it was the beginning of something new, something beautiful. Together.

You leaned in, forehead resting against his once more, and whispered, “You’ll never lose me again. I’m not going anywhere.”

© cerisesheaven — please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my works. thank you angel!

⌒⌒﹕tied me to you.

( EN- ) park sunghoon x reader

genre- slight fluff?, strangers to lovers, fate au

archives </3

(small admin note:: i will use decelis for the school setting for most of my fics as i’m too lazy to think of one myself..)

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

Fate. A silly thing, really. It was something people thought only existed in fairytales, yet it was also something people hoped really existed, something people hoped was real. Some people really did believe it was real. They claimed they could see the ‘red string’ binding them to their forever lover, claimed they could see that their job, their future was just right for them, that they were somehow ‘fated’ to end up in the position they were in.

Even as a kid, y/n never thought about or questioned it before, she just lived life casually and carried out her tasks without worrying about the future or about her fate. It wasn’t until she woke up with a strange ring around her middle finger that she started thinking about anything.

── .✦

Monday, everyone’s most dreaded day of the week. With bells ringing, people running around the halls and teachers screaming, there was no way at all for y/n to find her way to her first lesson, even having been at the school for all her life. Most people would look at school hallways from movies and expect their school to look the same, but the state Decelis was currently in was the complete opposite.

Eventually, y/n found her way to her classroom. The sun shone in through the windows right onto her desk as she was working, blinding her eyes and causing her to be unable to concentrate properly on her worksheet. On top of that distracting her, y/n kept fiddling with the ring on her finger, wondering why she couldn’t take it off and wondering why the weird semicolon symbol on it was currently glowing in white. Looking around the classroom, y/n noticed the same subtle white glow somewhere in the back row, however she didn’t get to see who it was coming from as the teacher walked over and told her to focus.

Over time, y/n started to notice that the ring was glowing more and more intensely every time Sunghoon walked past her desk to hand his paper over to the teacher. She didn’t think anything of it at first, but she found that he had a similar ring on his finger. It was slightly hidden by the sleeves of his oversized hoodie, but the peculiar white glow was definitely there. As class came to an end, y/n was about to go up to him and ask him about it, but he had already left the room.

── .✦

After school, as y/n threw her backpack on her bedroom floor, she noticed a semi-translucent, string-like thing with a gold tint coming from her ring, leading to nowhere. Blinking twice to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating, y/n tried to use her other hand to touch the string, however her palm passed right through it, as if it wasn’t there at all. Strange, she wondered, what even is this thing? Y/n tried to ignore it, but sometimes her gaze would wander towards the string connecting her to nothingness and she would zone out.

Over the next few days, y/n grew to live with the string being there as she carried out her daily duties; she treated it like it was part of her. She never questioned why it was there, nor did she try to touch it anymore— she didn’t want people thinking she was weird for attempting to grab an invisible string connected to a glowing ring. Sometimes, y/n’s friends would ask her about it, almost if something similar had happened to them as well. She usually just ignored their questions, but she would glance at her ring and twist it in circles around her finger.

── .✦

Sunghoon was the quiet one in this friend group— calm, cool, and reserved. Although he was quite talkative around the people he was comfortable with, the loud introvert never bothered to interact with other people unless he had to. Because of the stoic front he had put up, many girls in Decelis would swoon over him. He never gave in to the attention, although the rest of his friends did, especially Heeseung and Jake. Even after being encouraged by Sunoo and Jungwon, Sunghoon still didn’t try to make an effort to talk to anyone.

“Shoot, I’m so sorry. Do you need help with that?” Sunghoon looked up from the floor at the person who was currently helping him pick his books and his laptop up. “I hope your laptop isn’t broken,” the brown-haired girl in front of him spoke again. “I’ll pay for the damage if something’s wrong…” Y/n picked up the last of the books and stood up, handing them over to Sunghoon. “I’m so sorry.” She repeated, shooting him an apologetic look. Sunghoon gratefully accepted his books, bowing slightly to say thanks. “Thank you.” he muttered, running down the hall. Just as y/n was about to shout ‘you’re welcome’, she noticed that the invisible string on her ring had gotten shorter, almost as if it connected her to Sunghoon. She tried to shake the thought off, but no matter how much she tried it wouldn’t go away.

As y/n was in class, the thought of this haunted her. There was no way in hell that she was tied to Park Sunghoon, of all people. How was she going to get him to unfreeze and possibly open up to her eventually? And if she was going to get him to, she needed to make sure she was connected to him first. But how? They were barely in any classes together— only maths, and biology. Plus, she barely saw him around school, even at lunch. Y/n sighed, doodling aimlessly on her notebook. This was going to be a challenge she never knew she’d face.

── .✦

It was the last lesson of the day, and y/n had maths. I get to see Sunghoon, she thought, but then she hesitated on whether that was a good thing or not. As she walked into the classroom, she was greeted with a shouting teacher who was trying to communicate to the class that they were going to swap the seating arrangement. Great. Just as y/n was going to avoid Sunghoon at all costs, there was going to be a chance that they would be seatmates. Y/n sighed, dreading the moment when the teacher would call her name and tell her to sit “...right next to Sunghoon.”. Y/n tried to look as natural and as undisturbed as possible and walked over to the desk, setting her bag down on the floor as she sat down, looking out for any signs of the string. Damn it, she was right. The golden string that once led her to nothingness now led to Sunghoon, who was staring right back at her.

“Um. Hi,” Y/n said, picking her water bottle up and fidgeting with it to distract herself, hoping that Sunghoon didn’t notice the string. “Is your laptop okay, by the way?” She asked, turning to face him. “Yeah,” Sunghoon replied, picking up a pen. “No damage done. Thanks for asking.” “No problem.” y/n said, a small smile spreading across her lips. Awkward silence took over as the two of them waited for the teacher to start the lesson.

As the lesson proceeded, y/n couldn’t help but stare at the string connecting the two of them from time to time, its presence a reminder of her mission to get closer to Sunghoon. She turned her attention to the boy next to her who had his head down, diligently taking notes. Y/n tapped him on the shoulder lightly, trying not to disturb him but trying to grab his attention at the same time. “Sunghoon? Can you help me with this.. I don’t get it.” Sunghoon looked up from his book, now facing y/n. “Sure, I guess. What do you need help with?” “I didn’t understand what the teacher was saying about the formulas and stuff,” Y/n shrugged, spinning her pen in circles. “Here…” Sunghoon reached over y/n’s paper, writing a bunch of notes down on the side. As Sunghoon was writing on her paper, y/n swore she could feel her face heating up from Sunghoon’s close proximity. She buried her face in her palms, hoping that he wouldn’t be able to see her tomato-red face and hear her heart beating like a high-speed train. As Sunghoon retreated to his seat, y/n let out a small ‘thank you’ and looked back at her notebook, now filled with Sunghoon’s notes.

── .✦

“Thank you again for the notes,” Y/n said behind her shoulder as she exited the room. “They really helped.” Sunghoon nodded at her in response, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, following y/n out of the classroom. As y/n walked out, she kept her eye on the string between the two of them, wondering if Sunghoon had noticed it yet. Because Sunghoon saw her eyes move to look at the ring, for the first time in his life he decided to initiate conversation.

“So you noticed it, too?” “What?” y/n turned around to face him, a confused look on her face. “So you noticed the string between us, did you?” Sunghoon repeated, crossing his arms. “I did,” y/n replied, a slight blush forming on her cheeks. “I was wondering when you would say something about it.” Sunghoon grinned. “It's kind of nice, actually. Don’t you think so? The thought of an invisible string. It’s almost as if there’s..” y/n looked up at him, analysing his expression. “One single thread of gold..?” she asked, receiving a nod from the boy in front of her. “...Tied me to you.” He replied, the smile on his face growing. “What?” y/n asked, blinking to check if he had really said that.

“Tied me to you,” Sunghoon repeated.

“Like fate.”

── .✦

cr2024@bqrdercarnival on tumblr ,, hoonfiiles on ig.

user bqrdercarnival’s library ..!

YANG JUNGWON

nothing yet ,,

LEE HEESEUNG

not just chemistry

PARK JONGSEONG

nothing yet ,,

SIM JAEYUN

love, again

PARK SUNGHOON

tied me to you

KIM SUNOO

nothing yet ,,

NISHIMURA RIKI

nothing yet ,,

⌒⌒﹕not just chemistry.

( EN- ) heeseung x fem reader

admin notes at the bottom

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

On paper, y/n was the perfect student. Every girl aspired to be her. She had perfect hair, perfect grades, and of course, her friends were just as perfect as her. One person, however,who was her competitor to be the top student at Decelis Academy was Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung and y/n had been competing for the top spot at Decelis ever since fifth form. They would bicker in the hallways, in class, and everytime they got a chance to hit each other with anything mean, even when picking teams in phys ed. Of course, their friends were all sick of it, and they were all hoping that one day something would change and they would get along. That never happened, obviously. Somehow, their chemistry teacher had enough of their little arguments as well and decided to pair them up for an activity.

── .✦

“What the hell,” Heeseung muttered under his breath. “I’m actually going to fucking kill this woman.” Y/n looked up from her notebook and looked at him, a stoic expression on her face. “Gosh, dramatic much? It’s just one activity. Chill out.” Heeseung turned to face her, glaring slightly. “Just? I’m stuck with.. you.” Y/n rolled her eyes, and started working on their project, ignoring Heeseung’s antics.

The bell rang an hour later, signalling that it was time for lunch. Y/n hurriedly packed her bags, but just as she was about to leave, someone grabbed her arm. She turned around to see a red-haired, galring boy holding her back. “What do you want?” y/n asked, pulling her arm free and crossing them. “How are we going to finish this project?” Heeseung asked her back, tilting his head slightly as if to say “You didn’t consider that before you left, did you?” “Ugh, I don’t know? We’ll sort it out or something. You have my number right?” y/n replied, getting irritated. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Heeseung packed his things and followed y/n to the cafeteria.

── .✦

Y/n sat at her usual table with her closest friends, Danielle, Giselle, Kazuha, Yuna and Yeji. “Hey, y/n,” Danielle said as y/n sat down. “I saw what happened in chem. You don’t seem too pleased about that, especially Heeseung.” Y/n sighed. She really didn’t want to talk about this now. “Dani… not now.. Just let me eat in peace please.” `Although the cafeteria food wasn’t very appetising, the girls continued to talk about their day, and everything else.

At one point while they were chatting away, some people from Heeseung’s table came over to them. “You guys are being a bit loud, don’t you think?” Sunghoon said, crossing his arms. “Literally none of us can hear over your voices,” Ni-ki agreed. “Keep it down, would ya?” And with that final comment, the black-haired and oreo-haired boy walked back to their table, leaving the girls no chance to argue back. “Pfft, just ignore them,” Yeji said, taking a bite out of her sandwich. “They think it annoys us.” “Yeah,” Kazuha said. “To be honest, I've gotten used to it already.” While Yuna and y/n were munching away on their foods, Giselle rolled her eyes. “I don’t even know why they still try, haha.”

And the sound of the lively cafeteria drowned out their voices, everyone having their own conversations at their own tables.

── .✦

Time: 8:30 PM. Y/n was about to start studying when she got a text from an unknown number. The message read: “Y/n, is this your number? It’s me, Heeseung. I asked Kazuha for it but I’m not sure if she gave me the right one. If you see this message, please text me back. If we don’t get this project done, we’re both dead meat. And you know that.” Y/n stared at the message for a while, contemplating on whether she should text him back or not. Heeseung sounded desperate in that text; as if his life depended on this project. But he was right– this project was worth almost half their biology grade. If they didn’t finish it by next week, they’d both be cooked to a crisp. Finally, she sent him back a text: “Fine. Meet me at the library tomorrow after school.” She shut her phone off after sending that text, and went to study, get ready for bed, and after an hour she went to sleep.

── .✦

Wednesday, 4:30 PM, after school. Y/n found Heeseung waiting patiently for her in the library. He was leaning on the windowsill holding a book, the afternoon sun rushing in through the windows and shining on him in all the right places, making to only his perfectly styled red hair glow, but his facial features too. Y/n caught herself staring, but she snapped out of it quickly and walked over to him. “Hi, Heeseung.” Heeseung caught y/n’s eye, putting his book down and walking over to her. “You’re here. Let’s get this over and done with.”

However, Heeseung’s plan of ‘getting it over and done with’ was crushed slowly as their meetings in the library after school became frequent. They would meet everyday there, just to try to do all the extra credit questions, and not just for chemistry. They ended up studying together for almost all their subjects, biology, english, maths, geography, history, and so on. The tension between them lessened, until one day when Yeji and Ni-ki found them studying in the library after school on Friday.

Yeji had always treated Ni-ki like a little brother; they had been best friends since they were twelve. If you didn’t know them, you would probably think they were biological siblings, as their facial features were so similar. “Y/n? Heeseung?” Yeji said, not believing the sight in front of her. “What are you guys doing here… together?” Y/n looked up from her paper after hearing Yeji’s voice, and immediately froze. Heeseung looked up as well, staring at Ni-ki intently. “What else do you think we’re doing? The project is due on Monday next week and we’re trying to get all the extra credit.” Ni-ki shifted his gaze away from Heeseung. “That doesn’t look like just chemistry.” Yeji walked over to their table, analysing the scattered papers everywhere, picking some of them up. “Maths… English… Seriously, what are you guys doing?” Y/n turned her head away, trying to ignore the question. Heeseung, however, immediately packed his things away and stormed out of the library, pushing past Yeji and Ni-ki. Y/n packed her things away slowly, following shortly after.

── .✦

Weeks passed, and y/n and Heeseung haven’t interacted since, not even to bicker about things. Their friends noticed the tension, but thought nothing of it. Except Yeji and Ni-ki. During period breaks, the two had gone up to y/n and Heeseung to interrogate them, seeing who would spill the situation the fastest. Of course, it wasn’t that easy to break any of their shells, as they were both stubborn and persistent. It got to a point where none of them could contain it any longer. Y/n spoke first.

“Fine. So what if we were studying together? We’re both the smartest in this school. I don’t see what’s wrong with that.” Yeji crossed her arms, displeased with y/n’s answer. “Woah, thanks for answering my question.” She said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Ugh,” y/n replied, rolling her eyes. “What else do you want me to say? It’s the truth.” And with that, she walked away to her locker, gathering all her stuff to go home.

── .✦

It was the last day of school before Christmas break, and the hallways were as noisy as ever. Heeseung’s group of friends were all planning to go on vacation to Australia during the break. Y/n and her friends, not knowing that they were going, also planned to go to Australia for the break. They were going to stay in Danielle’s house for two weeks, and they’d already booked their flight. Somehow, they had found out that each other were going to Australia, and the two groups of friends argued at lunch, both groups hoping not to run into each other.

After school, Heeseung found y/n by her locker. She turned around, crossing her arms. “What do you want? You’re still mad about the holiday thing?” Heeseung sighed. “It’s not that.. look. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for storming off that day. It’s just.. during that week, I felt.. somehow.. different towards you. I don’t know how to describe it, y/n. I’ve been thinking about it— about you since that day. I think.. I think I like you.” Y/n stood there, unfazed.”Is this one of your pranks again? What the hell, Heeseung. Shut up.” She started to laugh, but after seeing Heeseung’s hurt expression, her facial expression switched back. “Oh. you’re serious.” Heeseung forced a smile, shaking his head. “You know what, it’s fine. Whatever. Forget I said anything. Have a nice Christmas break, y/n.”

“Wait—” As Heeseung started down the hallway, y/n quickly grabbed his arm, pulling him back. None of them expected y/n to be so strong; Heeseung was now face-to-face with y/n, his breaths brushing against her forehead. “What,” He said, looking down at her with uncertainty, taking a step back. He didn’t expect her to say anything; except for laught at him, or try to start an argument. However, y/n grabbed his shirt and brought his lips to hers. Heeseung was taken aback by the sudden movement, but after a bit he returned the kiss.They stayed there like that, against y/n’s locker for a while before Heeseung pulled away. “Y/n?” Y/n grinned, looking up at him. “I think I’ve caught feelings for you too, Heeseung. Or should I call you Hee, like everyone else does?” She said, laughing. “Oh, shut up.” Heeseung replied, slapping her arm playfully.

── .✦

admin’s note. !!

second work!! this one was definitely better than my first one in my opinion, I think it had more structure and whatever. if you enjoyed it please leave a like, it means more to me than you can

imagine!

and of course, to everyone who read this, thank you so much. </3

— aeri xo

a tailored connection

pairing: designer!sunghoon x muse!reader

synopsis: sunghoon, a talented designer, has always harboured feelings for his longtime friend, you. when he invites you to be his muse, the sessions are charged with a tension that neither of you can ignore. as sunghoon’s compliments and intimate moments reveal deeper feelings, a surprising twist shakes your world. with your engagement to someone else looming and sunghoon grappling with his emotions, both of you face a turning point that will challenge everything you thought you knew about love and friendship.

genre: friends to lovers, both are fools in love

warnings: looot of tension, angst!! , kissing, crying, not really proofread

note: aaand with this royally yours comes to an end, i had a great time writing it! where can i get a man who makes me dresses like this :( i hope you enjoy reading this<3

word count: 16.8k

royally yours masterlist | prev:jake

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

the sound of laughter echoes through the village streets, a memory woven into the fabric of your childhood. sunghoon had always been there, his presence as familiar to you as the sky above. you grew up side by side—first as playmates, then as something more complicated, though neither of you had the words for it yet.

it started with simple things. the way he’d hold out his hand to help you over the stones in the river, his grip firm but gentle. the way he’d always save the last piece of the bread he bought for lunch, handing it to you with a shy grin. and the way he’d linger just a bit longer when you hugged him goodbye, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go.

you were never apart for long, always finding reasons to be in each other’s company. as children, you’d run wild through the village, a pair of inseparable companions. the streets had been your playground, the trees your hideout, and the open fields your kingdom.

sunghoon was the one who taught you how to climb trees, his long limbs making it look easy as he scrambled up the tallest one in the village square. you’d followed him then, determined to keep up with him no matter what, your competitive spirit something he both teased and admired.

“come on, you can do it,” he’d called down to you one day, perched on a sturdy branch high above, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’m not leaving you behind.”

“i’m not going to be left behind,” you’d retorted, climbing faster, though your hands were trembling. you didn’t want to admit it, but heights terrified you.

sunghoon had seen through you, though, like he always did. when you reached the top, his hand had shot out to steady you, his touch reassuring. “see? i told you,” he said, smiling in that soft way that always made you feel warm inside.

that was how it always was—sunghoon pushing you to be braver, to go further, but always there to catch you if you stumbled.

as you grew older, the carefree days of your childhood evolved into something quieter, but no less meaningful. sunghoon’s passion for design began to bloom, his sketchbook always tucked under his arm, filled with dresses, cloaks, and the kind of ornate embroidery that would make any noble gasp. he’d spend hours at the village tailor’s shop, learning from the master tailor, and you’d sit in the corner, watching him work, admiring the way his hands moved with precision and care.

“why don’t you just play outside like the other girls?” the old tailor would often ask you, shaking his head with a smile. “this place is no fun for someone your age.”

you’d always smile back, knowing full well why you stayed. “i don’t mind. besides, i like watching sunghoon.”

sunghoon would look up from his work then, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “she’s my best critic,” he’d say, as if that explained everything.

but it wasn’t just about watching him work. there was something in the quiet moments between you, in the way you understood each other without having to say a word. he would sketch something and glance up, catching your eye, and you’d know exactly what he was thinking. he didn’t have to say it.

the bond between you deepened with every passing year, though the village seemed blind to it. to everyone else, you were just friends, nothing more. but there were moments—fleeting, subtle—when you felt something stirring between you, something neither of you dared to speak aloud.

it wasn’t until one late afternoon, when the two of you were sitting under the large oak tree at the edge of the village, that you truly realised how much he meant to you.

the summer sun cast a golden glow over the fields, the breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers. you were both quiet, simply enjoying each other’s company. sunghoon had his sketchbook open on his lap, his charcoal pencil moving lazily across the page. you were watching him, as you often did, wondering what it would be like to have your portrait sketched by him. would he see you differently if he looked at you that way? would the feelings you’d kept locked inside for so long show on your face?

“what are you drawing this time?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence. it was always your way of trying to sneak a glimpse into the world that sunghoon poured into his designs.

he looked up, startled from his thoughts, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. “just... a dress,” he said, and though it sounded like a simple answer, there was a softness in his voice that made you curious.

“a dress?” you echoed, smiling. “for who?”

“for... no one in particular,” he murmured, closing the book before you could peek at it. “just an idea.”

you tilted your head, studying him. “you’ve been spending a lot of time on these designs lately. are you preparing for something big?”

he shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about... making something new. something different. i don’t want to just follow the same old patterns forever.”

you nodded, understanding. sunghoon had always been ambitious, but his talent had begun to outgrow the small village you lived in. you knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to leave—venture into the capital or even beyond to showcase his work.

“whatever it is, you’ll be amazing at it,” you said, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the thought of him leaving.

he glanced at you then, his expression unreadable. “you really think so?”

“of course,” you replied without hesitation. “i’ve always believed in you.”

the words felt heavier than they should have, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. sunghoon’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, but just as quickly, he looked away, his fingers nervously tapping the cover of his sketchbook.

“i couldn’t have come this far without you,” he said, his voice quiet. “you’ve always been there for me.”

you smiled softly, nudging him with your shoulder. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

but even as you said it, the word “friends” felt inadequate—too small to hold the depth of what you felt for him. and though you couldn’t say it aloud, you wondered if sunghoon felt the same.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the fields, the two of you sat in silence, side by side. in the fading light, everything felt suspended—like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.

but neither of you moved, and the unspoken feelings between you remained just that—unspoken.

for now.

the day had started like any other. you were making your way through the village, the familiar sights and sounds surrounding you—children running through the streets, merchants shouting their daily specials, and the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer. but today, something felt different. there was an odd flutter in your stomach, though you couldn’t quite place why. perhaps it was because you were heading to sunghoon’s workshop, as you often did, or perhaps it was something else.

his shop had grown over the years, its modest space now brimming with elegant fabrics and mannequins draped in partially finished garments. sunghoon had worked tirelessly, his name slowly gaining recognition beyond the village, though he remained humble about his achievements. it had become a routine for you to visit him, to sit in the corner while he worked, offering your thoughts or simply watching the magic unfold under his skilled hands.

when you arrived, the door was slightly ajar, and you pushed it open to find sunghoon standing at his worktable, deep in thought. his back was turned to you, the late afternoon sunlight filtering through the window and casting a soft glow around him. he was focused, hunched over a sketch, his pencil moving in rapid strokes, as if he were chasing some fleeting inspiration.

you stepped inside quietly, not wanting to disturb him. he was always at his best when he was lost in his work—his mind far away from the village, immersed in a world of silk and satin, seams and stitches. but even in those moments, it wasn’t uncommon for him to sense your presence before you spoke.

today, though, he was more distracted than usual. he didn’t notice you until you were almost beside him, peeking over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his newest creation. “what’s this one?” you asked lightly, hoping not to startle him.

he jumped slightly, straightening up and turning to face you, a small smile forming on his lips when he saw it was you. “you’re early.”

you raised an eyebrow. “am i interrupting?”

“no, not at all,” he said, closing the sketchbook and setting it aside. “i was just... thinking.”

“you do that a lot,” you teased, leaning against the edge of the worktable. “what’s on your mind today?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. his gaze drifted toward the window, his fingers playing absentmindedly with the hem of a piece of fabric. you could see there was something weighing on him, but sunghoon had always been the type to choose his words carefully, never speaking until he was sure of what he wanted to say.

finally, he turned back to you, his expression serious but soft. “i’ve been working on something new. something important.”

you crossed your arms, intrigued. “i figured as much. you’ve been spending even more time here than usual. what is it? a new collection?”

“not exactly,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. “it’s... different this time. i want to create something that’s truly mine, something that will set me apart. but to do that, i need help.”

you blinked, surprised. sunghoon rarely asked for help, especially when it came to his designs. “help? from me?”

he nodded slowly, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. “i want you to be my muse.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavier than you’d expected. muse. it wasn’t just a word—it was a role that carried meaning. in a way, you’d always been part of sunghoon’s creative process, offering suggestions or simply being there to share in his successes and frustrations. but this... this was something else entirely.

you shifted your weight, suddenly feeling a little unsure. “a muse? what do you mean?”

“i mean...” he hesitated, running a hand through his hair as he searched for the right words. “i’ve been designing dresses, outfits for people i’ve never even met. but none of them feel personal. none of them feel real. i want to create something that speaks to me, and to do that, i need someone who inspires me. someone i know. someone... like you.”

your breath caught in your throat. the way he said it, the way his eyes lingered on you—it was impossible to ignore the meaning behind his words. he wasn’t just asking you to be part of his work; he was asking you to be at the centre of it. to be the person he looked at, thought about, dreamed about while he created. and that idea stirred something inside you that you hadn’t been prepared for.

“i don’t know if i’d make a very good muse,” you said, trying to laugh it off, though your heart was racing.

sunghoon stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “you’re perfect for it. you’ve always been perfect.”

the air between you shifted, growing warmer, heavier with tension. it wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you—he was always kind, always thoughtful—but this felt different. his words weren’t casual or lighthearted. they carried weight, an unspoken truth that had been building between you for years.

you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, your throat tightening. being his muse meant more than just standing still while he draped fabric around you. it meant letting him see you, really see you, in ways that no one else ever had. it felt intimate, like a part of you would be etched into every piece he made.

“what would that mean for us?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon blinked, startled by the question. “what do you mean?”

“you and i,” you clarified, feeling the weight of the words. “if i agree... won’t it change things between us?”

for a long moment, sunghoon didn’t speak. he seemed to consider your words, his eyes searching your face as if trying to decipher your feelings. finally, he took a deep breath, stepping even closer, so close now that you could feel the warmth of his body. “maybe it will,” he admitted, his voice soft but steady. “but maybe it’s already changed. maybe it’s been different for a long time.”

his words hit you like a wave, the truth in them undeniable. he was right. things had changed—slowly, quietly—but neither of you had ever dared to acknowledge it. until now.

your heart hammered in your chest, the weight of his confession settling over you like a blanket. you could feel the tension between you, crackling like the air before a storm. there was something fragile, something precious hanging between you, and the slightest word or movement could shatter it.

but then, without thinking, you made your decision.

“i’ll do it,” you said, your voice barely audible, but firm.

sunghoon’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise and relief passing across his face. “you will?”

you nodded, your gaze never leaving his. “yes. i’ll be your muse.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken feelings that had been buried for so long. and then, slowly, sunghoon’s lips curved into the softest smile—a smile that reached his eyes and made something inside you melt.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours, and for a brief, electrifying moment, it felt as if time stood still. you were acutely aware of how close he was, how much more intimate things had become between you in just a few short minutes.

you smiled back, though your heart was pounding. “i think it’ll be fun.”

sunghoon laughed softly, the sound low and warm, and the tension between you seemed to ease, just a little. but even as you both fell into a more comfortable silence, you knew that things between you had changed. there was no going back now.

the sun was beginning to set as you made your way to sunghoon’s shop, a soft, golden glow spreading across the village. it had been only a few days since you agreed to be his muse, but the weight of that decision still lingered in your mind. there was a sense of anticipation, an underlying current of excitement that thrummed through you, but also an edge of nervousness that you couldn’t shake.

you had always been comfortable around sunghoon, but this felt different. it wasn’t just visiting a friend; you were stepping into a role that felt intimate in ways you hadn’t quite expected. and you knew that once you crossed the threshold of his workshop today, something between you would shift again.

when you arrived, sunghoon was already waiting. the door was propped open, and you could hear the faint sounds of rustling fabric and the occasional scratch of his pencil against paper. you hesitated for a moment at the doorway, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

sunghoon looked up as soon as you entered, a soft smile pulling at his lips. “you came,” he said, sounding almost relieved.

“of course i did,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light despite the quickening of your pulse. “i’m your muse now, remember?”

his smile widened just a little, and he motioned for you to come in. “right. my muse.”

the word still felt strange on your tongue, and hearing him say it made something flutter in your chest. you glanced around the room, noticing that he had cleared some space near the large windows where the light poured in. rolls of fabric were neatly arranged, sketchbooks stacked nearby, and a dress form stood at the centre, waiting to be draped with something new.

you stepped closer, feeling the warmth of the sunlight against your skin, but also the weight of sunghoon’s gaze on you. his eyes followed your every movement, a soft intensity in them that made the space between you feel smaller, more charged.

“so, where do we start?” you asked, forcing a smile to break the tension that was building in the room.

sunghoon set down his pencil and moved to stand beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours as he reached for a roll of fabric. “i was thinking we’d start by figuring out what you like. i want to design something that feels like you—not just any dress, but one that you’d wear and feel... beautiful in.”

the way he said the word beautiful made your stomach flip. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the task at hand instead of the way his voice lingered on the compliment.

“what i like?” you repeated, frowning slightly. “i’m not sure. i mean, i’ve never really thought about it.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you with a small smile. “you’ve never thought about what you like in dresses? after all this time of coming here and watching me work?”

you laughed, a little nervous. “i guess i’ve always been more interested in what you were making for other people.”

“well,” he said, his voice softening, “now it’s time to think about what’s right for you.”

he moved closer, picking up a few pieces of fabric and holding them up to the light. “what do you think of these? what colours feel like you?”

you eyed the fabrics he held—a deep emerald green, a soft blush pink, and a striking midnight blue. each one seemed to carry a different weight, a different mood, and the idea of choosing one for yourself felt strangely personal.

“i’m not sure,” you admitted, reaching out to touch the green fabric. “i’ve always liked green, but... i don’t know if it suits me.”

sunghoon tilted his head, his eyes flickering over you, as if he were studying you in a way he hadn’t before. “it suits you,” he said quietly, the certainty in his voice catching you off guard. “it brings out your eyes. but so would the blue.”

you blinked, surprised by the compliment. sunghoon wasn’t one to flatter people needlessly, especially not you. his compliments usually came in the form of casual remarks, offhand observations about how a colour might work or how you carried yourself in a certain style. but this—this was different. there was something in his tone, in the way he looked at you now, that felt far more intimate.

you felt your face grow warm under his gaze, suddenly self-conscious. “you think so?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“i know so,” he replied, his eyes never leaving yours. “you have a way of making things look better just by wearing them. it’s not just about the dress—it’s about how you wear it.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air between you growing heavier with each passing second. you hadn’t expected this—hadn’t expected him to speak so plainly, so openly. sunghoon had always been composed, professional, even around you. but now, there was something more vulnerable in the way he spoke, something unguarded.

you cleared your throat, trying to break the moment before it became too much. “well, what about styles then? i’ve always liked simpler designs. nothing too extravagant.”

sunghoon nodded thoughtfully, his eyes still lingering on you, as if he were trying to memorise every detail of your expression. “simple suits you,” he murmured. “but there’s something about you that deserves more. something elegant.”

“elegant?” you echoed, unsure of where this was coming from.

“mm,” he hummed, reaching for his sketchbook. “you’ve always carried yourself with a kind of grace—like you don’t even realise how beautiful you are.”

your breath hitched. you stared at him, your heart pounding louder in your chest as his words hung in the air between you. this wasn’t just a compliment—it was something else. something deeper. and the realisation of it hit you like a wave.

sunghoon, too, seemed to realise the weight of what he’d just said. he quickly looked away, focusing on his sketchbook as if he could take the words back by drowning them in his work. “i didn’t mean to... i mean...”

you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to respond. you had never thought of yourself the way sunghoon was describing you now, and the fact that he saw you like this—it was overwhelming. you could feel the tension crackling between you, the unspoken feelings that had always lingered beneath the surface suddenly threatening to rise.

“i just... think you should have something that shows who you are,” sunghoon continued, his voice quieter now, more careful. “not just as my muse, but as you. something that makes people stop and see you the way i do.”

your pulse quickened at his words, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if you could trust yourself to speak. the way he was looking at you now, with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, made it feel like the walls of the workshop were closing in.

you glanced down, trying to focus on the fabric in your hands, but the weight of his gaze lingered. “sunghoon... i don’t know what to say.”

he shook his head, stepping back slightly as if to give you space. “you don’t have to say anything. i just... i want you to feel beautiful in whatever i make for you. that’s all.”

there was a long pause, the only sound in the room being the soft rustle of fabric as you ran your fingers over the green material again. your mind was spinning, your heart racing, and yet you couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through you at his words. it wasn’t just the compliment—it was the way he saw you, the way he always had.

finally, you looked up, meeting his gaze once more. “i trust you, sunghoon. i always have.”

his eyes softened, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said quietly. “because i promise, whatever we create together, it’s going to be something unforgettable.”

the light from the late afternoon sun bathed sunghoon’s workshop in a golden hue, casting long shadows that stretched across the room. you stood near the centre, nervously smoothing the fabric of your dress as sunghoon readied his tools. he had done this countless times—measuring clients for garments—but somehow, this felt different. more intimate. more real.

“alright,” he said, his voice a little too casual as he approached with a measuring tape in hand. “this won’t take long.”

you nodded, trying to keep your breathing steady as you watched him move closer. sunghoon had always been meticulous when it came to his work, his hands sure and steady, but today there was a faint tremor in them as he unspooled the tape.

“so, uh,” he began, his gaze flickering between your face and the tape in his hands. “we’ll start with your shoulders. just... relax.”

you forced a smile, though the tension in the air was impossible to ignore. “i’m relaxed.”

he shot you a look that said he wasn’t convinced, but he didn’t argue. he stepped behind you, and you could feel his presence—warm, steady—just inches away. the fabric of your dress shifted slightly as he gently placed the tape around your shoulders, his fingers grazing your skin ever so lightly. the contact sent a shiver down your spine, though you tried your best to suppress it.

for a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft rustling of the measuring tape as he adjusted it. you could feel your heart beating faster, your pulse quickening with each passing second. sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be holding his breath, as if he were just as aware of the closeness as you were.

“alright,” he murmured, his voice quieter now, more focused. “now your waist.”

he stepped around to face you, his gaze briefly meeting yours before dropping to the tape in his hands. his movements were careful, almost hesitant, as he crouched slightly, bringing the tape around your waist. you swallowed hard, your throat suddenly dry as his fingers brushed the sides of your dress, the heat of his touch lingering longer than it should have.

the proximity, the feel of his hands so close to you—it was almost too much. you bit your lip, fighting the urge to fidget under his intense concentration. sunghoon had always been calm, composed, but now there was an unmistakable tension in the air, a subtle awkwardness that made your heart race even faster.

he straightened up, pulling the tape taut as he noted your measurements. “i... uh,” he began, clearing his throat slightly, “i’ll need to get your bust next.”

you blinked, feeling your face grow warm. “oh. right.”

it wasn’t as if you hadn’t expected it—this was part of the process, after all—but somehow the idea of sunghoon taking that particular measurement felt... different. the room seemed smaller, the air thicker as you watched him struggle to keep his composure.

his hand hovered for a moment, clearly unsure of what to do. “i—uh,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “just... hold still.”

you nodded, though you could feel the flush rising to your cheeks as he brought the tape around your chest, his fingers brushing the fabric of your dress with the lightest touch. his face was close now—closer than it had ever been—his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you.

neither of you spoke. the silence stretched, heavy with the unspoken desires that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. his fingers fumbled slightly as he adjusted the tape, and for a brief moment, his hand brushed against your skin, sending a shock of electricity through you.

you inhaled sharply, your breath hitching at the unexpected contact, and sunghoon froze. his eyes flicked up to meet yours, wide and startled, as if he hadn’t meant to let the moment slip.

“sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i didn’t mean to...”

“it’s fine,” you said quickly, though your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

but he didn’t move away. his hand remained where it was, the heat of his palm radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him—every breath, every subtle movement—and the closeness was dizzying. there was something in his eyes, something unspoken, that made your pulse race even faster.

you swallowed hard, your voice barely steady as you spoke. “sunghoon...”

he blinked, as if snapping out of a trance, and quickly stepped back, dropping the measuring tape as if it had burned him. “i—i think that’s enough for now,” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck again, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i’ve got what i need.”

you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. “are you sure? i mean, if you need more measurements—”

“no!” he said, perhaps a little too quickly, then cleared his throat. “i mean, no. we’re good. i’ve got everything.”

the tension between you was palpable, thick and heavy, but neither of you knew how to break it. sunghoon busied himself with gathering the tape and jotting down notes, though his movements were jerky, his usual calm demeanour nowhere to be found.

you watched him, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling in your chest. there was an awkwardness, yes, but also something else—something that had been building between you for a long time, simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to spill over.

finally, sunghoon spoke again, though his voice was softer now, almost hesitant. “you know,” he said, not meeting your eyes, “you really do have... perfect proportions.”

your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. “what?”

he cleared his throat, rubbing his neck awkwardly once more. “i mean... for the dress,” he added quickly, as if trying to backtrack. “you have a really... balanced figure. for tailoring, i mean.”

you blinked, taken aback by the sudden compliment, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. it wasn’t just what he said—it was the way he said it. the way his voice softened, the way he fidgeted under your gaze, as if he were revealing more than he intended.

“i... thanks?” you managed, feeling your cheeks burn with a mix of surprise and awkwardness.

sunghoon gave you a tight-lipped smile, clearly as flustered as you were. “yeah. no problem.”

the silence that followed was thick and heavy, both of you too aware of the tension that had settled over the room like a heavy blanket. sunghoon quickly turned away, busying himself with his sketches, but the weight of the moment lingered in the air, unspoken but undeniable.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart, but you knew—no matter how much you both tried to pretend otherwise—something between you had shifted. and neither of you were quite ready to confront it yet.

the days following that first measurement session seemed to blur together, each one filled with quiet moments, shared glances, and unspoken words that hung heavy in the air. sunghoon had thrown himself into the design, sketching feverishly as if creating your dress had become not just his project, but his obsession. every stroke of his pencil seemed deliberate, every detail in the fabric a reflection of how closely he had studied you—not just your body, but you as a person.

the workshop had become a second home to you, and you found yourself spending more and more time there as the dress took shape. each day, you would come in, greeted by the soft sounds of scissors slicing through fabric and the rhythmic hum of sunghoon’s needle as he stitched delicate patterns. his focus was unbreakable, yet there was always that moment when he would pause, look at you, and give a small, almost shy smile, as if he still couldn’t believe you were there, helping him create something so personal.

the tension between you grew thicker with every passing day. it was as if the fabric sunghoon was weaving was also binding the two of you together in ways neither of you had expected. there were the long stretches of silence, where the only sound was the soft brush of fabric against your skin as he worked, and then there were the moments when his hand would linger just a little too long as he adjusted the fit of a sleeve or pinned the hem of a skirt.

each session brought a new creation—a new dress, a new style. it had become almost routine: he would sketch out his ideas, asking for your thoughts on the design, and then you would model the fabric as he draped it over you, pinning it into place before moving on to the next step. but no matter how professional sunghoon tried to keep things, there was always that spark of something more lurking beneath the surface.

one afternoon, as you stood in the centre of the room, sunghoon paced around you, scrutinising the latest dress he had draped over your frame. this one was softer than the others, a light cream-coloured gown with delicate embroidery along the bodice. you could feel the weight of his gaze as he circled you, studying every fold, every contour, as if he were memorising the shape of you through the fabric.

“what do you think?” he asked, his voice quiet but steady, his eyes focused entirely on you.

you glanced down at the dress, running your fingers over the soft fabric. “it’s beautiful,” you murmured. “you’ve really outdone yourself.”

sunghoon didn’t respond right away. instead, he stepped closer, his brow furrowing slightly as he adjusted the neckline of the gown. his fingers grazed your collarbone as he worked, sending a shiver through you. he seemed to hesitate, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary, before he cleared his throat and stepped back.

“i’m trying to capture... something,” he said, his voice trailing off as he picked up his pencil and notepad, scribbling down a few notes. “something that feels... like you.”

you blinked, surprised by his words. “like me?”

he nodded, not looking up from his notes. “it’s not just about the dress. it’s about how you move, how you carry yourself. i want to create something that feels like it belongs to you. not just any dress, but... your dress.”

there it was again—that intensity in his words, the way he seemed to see you in ways no one else ever had. you weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply nodded, letting the moment settle between you.

the sessions continued like this over the next two weeks, each one more charged than the last. sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching new designs late into the night, and every day you would return to see the progress he had made. he would greet you with that familiar smile, sometimes shy, sometimes teasing, and you would fall into the rhythm of your muse-and-artist routine.

but there was something else growing between you, something neither of you could ignore. each time sunghoon draped a new fabric over your shoulders, each time his fingers brushed your skin as he measured or adjusted the fit, the unspoken tension between you deepened. his compliments, once casual and light, became more thoughtful, more personal.

one day, as he worked on the finishing touches of a new gown—a soft lavender dress with delicate lace trimming—he paused, glancing at you from across the room. “you know,” he said, his voice softer than usual, “i’ve always known you were beautiful.”

you froze, your heart skipping a beat at his sudden confession. he didn’t meet your eyes, instead focusing on the hem of the dress as he stitched. “i just... i don’t think i’ve ever told you that,” he continued, his voice almost hesitant.

the words hung in the air, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond. sunghoon had always been complimentary in his own way—praising your grace or your proportions for the sake of his designs—but this was different. there was something raw, something vulnerable in his tone that made your chest tighten.

“sunghoon,” you began, but he quickly shook his head, cutting you off before you could continue.

“i’m not saying it for any reason,” he said quickly, his hands still busy with his stitching. “i just... i think it’s something you should know. you’re more than just a muse to me.”

your breath caught in your throat. the weight of his words was impossible to ignore now, the line between friend and something more growing blurrier with each passing day.

you watched him work, his brow furrowed in concentration as he focused on the task at hand. the quiet intimacy of the moment settled around you like a soft cloak, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else existed outside of this room—just you, sunghoon, and the delicate threads of connection that were slowly being woven together.

by the time he finished the lavender dress, the air between you had shifted once again. there was no denying the feelings that had been bubbling beneath the surface for so long, but neither of you were ready to confront them. not yet.

“i think it’s done,” sunghoon said quietly, stepping back to admire the dress.

you turned, catching his eye for a brief moment before looking away, the tension between you still thick and unresolved.

“it’s perfect,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment longer before he turned back to his sketches, his hands already moving toward the next design. but as he worked, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something between you had shifted once again, pulling you both closer to the inevitable.

the day sunghoon finally called you to his workshop to try on the completed dress, your heartbeat quickened with anticipation. you had witnessed pieces of the gown as it came together—folds of fabric, tiny swirls of embroidery—but you hadn’t yet seen the masterpiece in its entirety. now, standing at the doorway, you felt a fluttering mix of nerves and excitement, an invisible pull drawing you into sunghoon’s world once more.

as you stepped inside, you found sunghoon waiting, his face a picture of quiet intensity. he nodded toward the mannequin where the dress hung, his eyes unreadable but somehow deeper, darker than usual, as if holding back something unspoken.

when your gaze finally landed on the dress, your breath caught in your throat.

it was breathtaking.

the gown was nothing short of exquisite—lavender silk flowed like water from the bodice down to the floor, shimmering under the afternoon light that streamed through the windows. the neckline was delicately embroidered, the threads so fine they seemed like whispers etched into the fabric, while lace fluttered over the sleeves, giving the piece an ethereal, almost dream-like quality. the entire dress exuded elegance, but more than that, it felt like you—a reflection of something so deeply personal that you almost couldn’t believe sunghoon had captured it.

you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the gown. “sunghoon... i don’t even know what to say,” you whispered, your fingers brushing the edge of the fabric. “it’s perfect.”

he remained silent, watching you with a quiet intensity that sent shivers down your spine. his gaze didn’t waver as you admired the dress, his expression unreadable but brimming with something just beneath the surface.

“try it on,” he finally said, his voice low and steady, though there was a note of something raw in it.

nodding, you carefully took the dress from the mannequin and disappeared behind the changing screen, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. the fabric felt cool against your skin as you slipped into the gown, the weight of the silk settling around your body like it had been made just for you—which, of course, it had.

the dress hugged your curves in all the right places, the bodice fitting snugly while the skirt fanned out into a soft cascade of fabric. you ran your hands down the front, smoothing the delicate lace as a quiet gasp escaped your lips. it was perfect—no, more than perfect. it was everything you had dreamed of.

but there was one problem. as you reached behind your back to tie the strings that secured the dress, you quickly realised they were positioned just out of your reach. you stretched and fumbled, trying to catch the ties, but it was no use. frustration bubbled inside you, and after a few more futile attempts, you sighed in defeat.

“sunghoon?” your voice was hesitant, your cheeks warming as you called for his help.

“yes?” he replied, his voice soft but nearby.

“i... i can’t tie the strings on my own. could you—could you help me?” your request was almost timid, aware of the intimacy it required, but there was no other option.

a pause followed, but then you heard his footsteps approaching. he came closer, and the air between you seemed to shift, charged with a kind of tension that hadn’t been there a moment ago.

“of course,” sunghoon said quietly. his voice had taken on a softer tone, one that sent a quiet thrill through you as you stood there, waiting, feeling the heat of his presence behind you.

you turned your back to him, exposing the bare skin between the open edges of the dress. the silence that followed was thick, palpable, as his fingers grazed the strings, brushing against your skin in the process. his touch was featherlight, but each accidental contact sent small jolts through you, your senses heightened by the proximity, the intimacy of the moment.

sunghoon worked with slow, deliberate care, pulling the strings through the loops at your back. his fingertips continued to brush your skin, his movements precise but betraying the tension in the way his breath seemed to catch when his hands touched you. you could feel his closeness—the heat radiating from his body, his steady breath that almost matched the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

in the mirror directly in front of you, you watched his expression as he tied the delicate knots. his brow was slightly furrowed in concentration, but there was something else, something simmering beneath the surface. his lips parted ever so slightly, his eyes darkening as they traced the movement of his hands against your skin. you couldn’t stop staring at him, watching the way his fingers worked, almost trembling as they lingered on your body longer than necessary.

your pulse quickened, your breath coming out a little too shallow, and you wondered if he could feel the way your muscles tensed under his touch. it was impossible to ignore the tension—something unspoken, something that had been building between you for weeks, was about to break.

“there,” sunghoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. his hands remained on your waist, resting lightly against the fabric as though he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you swallowed hard, watching him through the mirror. the look on his face wasn’t just one of pride in his work—it was something far deeper. his gaze softened as he admired the way the dress fit you, his fingers tightening slightly against your waist. “you look... beautiful,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “it suits you perfectly. is it comfortable?”

the words were innocent enough, but the way he said them—the hushed tone, the way his eyes never left yours in the reflection—made your heart race. you nodded, unable to form words, still lost in the haze of the moment.

“it’s perfect,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

sunghoon’s hands stayed where they were, his touch sending a heat through you that was impossible to ignore. your eyes met his in the mirror, the intensity between you crackling like a flame barely held back. his grip on your waist tightened just a little, his fingers pressing into the fabric as though he were anchoring himself.

for a moment, everything froze. the workshop, the world outside—none of it seemed to matter. all that existed was the way he was looking at you, the way his breath hitched as he stood so close. his fingers brushed against your waist, just under the edge of the fabric, grazing the skin there ever so slightly.

then you turned around, and suddenly, the space between you was gone.

you were standing so close that you could feel the warmth radiating from him, your chest brushing against his as you moved. his eyes darted to your lips, then back up to your gaze, conflicted but full of want. the air was thick with tension, so much that you could hardly breathe, and then, without warning, sunghoon’s restraint snapped.

he kissed you.

the kiss was swift, almost frantic, as if he’d been holding it back for too long. his lips pressed against yours with a kind of hunger that sent shockwaves through your body, stealing your breath. one of his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, while the other remained at your waist, fingers curling into the fabric of the dress as though he were afraid you’d slip away. the kiss deepened, your senses overwhelmed by the heat of his mouth against yours, the way his hands held you like he’d never let go.

your mind spun in a whirlwind of sensation. the kiss was impulsive, raw, filled with all the feelings he had been holding back for so long. you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—all you could do was respond, kissing him back with the same intensity, the same desperate need that had been growing between you for weeks.

but then, reality crashed down.

sunghoon pulled back, his eyes wide with shock and regret, his breath ragged as he stared at you. “i—” his voice faltered, his hand still lingering on your waist, trembling slightly. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i didn’t mean to—”

you were just as dazed, your heart still pounding, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “it’s... it’s okay,” you said, though the words felt hollow. the kiss had left you reeling, and you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel.

sunghoon’s expression twisted with regret, his hands falling away from your waist as he stepped back. “we shouldn’t have—” he shook his head, his face pale. “i crossed a line.”

you swallowed hard, feeling the tension between you shift into something heavier, something filled with confusion and guilt. “maybe we should forget this happened,” you whispered, though the weight of the kiss still lingered in the air.

he nodded, his expression tight, though the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. “yeah. let’s... forget it.”

but neither of you could. the kiss, the way his hands had held you, the way your heart had raced—it was etched into the fabric of your friendship now, impossible to untangle.

word had spread quickly about sunghoon's exceptional craftsmanship. it began with whispers among the town’s elite, impressed with the stunning gown he had created for you, and soon, nobles from far and wide were flocking to his workshop, eager to have their own garments custom-made by his skilled hands. what had once been a modest business now thrived under the weight of new orders, with sunghoon’s talent finally receiving the recognition it deserved.

every day the workshop buzzed with activity—fine fabrics and intricate patterns sprawled across every surface, and sunghoon worked tirelessly, sketching designs, selecting fabrics, and stitching together dreams. you often found yourself there, as his muse, watching as he brought these creations to life, offering input or simply keeping him company through the long hours. his success was yours to share, and you couldn’t have been more proud.

one day, a letter arrived from the royal palace itself. the princess had heard of sunghoon’s work and requested him personally to craft a gown for her upcoming ball. the letter was written in elegant script on fine parchment, a formal request for his presence at the palace to discuss the details of the gown. when he read it aloud to you, you could hardly contain your excitement.

“sunghoon, this is incredible!” you exclaimed, beaming at him as he held the letter in his hands. his eyes shone with a mixture of pride and disbelief, as though he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.

“it’s surreal,” he admitted, glancing at you with a smile that warmed you from the inside out. “i never thought i’d be making dresses for royalty.”

“you deserve it,” you said earnestly, feeling your heart swell with admiration for him. “you’ve worked so hard, and now everyone can see just how talented you are.”

sunghoon’s smile faltered for a moment, something unreadable flickering in his eyes as he looked at you. “i couldn’t have done it without you,” he said softly. there was a weight to his words, a depth of feeling that you felt but couldn’t quite name. your heart skipped a beat, but before you could respond, he turned away, folding the letter carefully.

the trip to the palace was an experience neither of you would forget. the sprawling estate, the opulence of the interiors, the sense of awe that filled you as you walked through the grand halls—it was like stepping into another world. sunghoon had been invited to meet with the princess and discuss her gown, and as his muse and close friend, you accompanied him.

the princess was gracious and kind, and she spoke with sunghoon about the design she envisioned, praising his previous work. throughout the conversation, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, watching the way he carried himself with quiet confidence, his artistic mind already turning over the details of the gown in his head. it was hard not to feel a swell of pride, knowing you had played a part in his journey to this moment.

afterward, when the order had been placed and the royal commission secured, sunghoon suggested you both celebrate the occasion.

the restaurant was warm and cosy, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city, far removed from the grandeur of the palace. the two of you had shared many meals together over the years, but tonight felt different. the weight of sunghoon’s newfound success hung in the air between you, the knowledge that his life—your lives—were changing in ways you hadn’t fully anticipated.

you sat across from him, toasting to his success with glasses of wine, laughter bubbling up as you reminisced about old times. “do you remember the time we tried to make that dress for my cousin’s wedding, and the fabric tore right before the ceremony?” you said, laughing as you recalled the chaos.

sunghoon chuckled, shaking his head. “how could i forget? i thought i was finished as a tailor before i even started.”

“but you saved it in the end,” you said, your smile softening as you looked at him. “you’ve always had this way of making things beautiful, even when they seem impossible.”

his laughter faded, and for a moment, there was a lingering silence between you. his gaze met yours, and the atmosphere seemed to shift—something unspoken hung between you, thick and heavy like the summer air. the warmth from the wine and the closeness of the moment made it difficult to focus on anything else but him—the way the candlelight flickered against his features, the way his eyes softened when they lingered on you just a little too long.

he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “you know, this success… it’s more than i ever thought possible. and i don’t think i could have done it without you by my side.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, the intensity in his eyes making your breath hitch. there it was again—that undercurrent of something more, something that had always been there, just waiting for the right moment to break free.

your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in slightly, your faces just inches apart. the air between you crackled with anticipation, the proximity sending sparks down your spine. you could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between you narrowing with every passing second. your eyes locked, and in that moment, it felt like the world had fallen away.

the moment stretched on, and you could feel your heart racing, your pulse thundering in your ears. he was so close now, close enough that you could feel the heat of his body, close enough that all it would take was one small movement, one tiny step forward, and—

“i’m getting married,” you blurted out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

sunghoon froze, his eyes widening in shock. the spell between you shattered, and you immediately regretted speaking, but there was no taking it back now. the air between you went cold, and you felt your stomach drop as the weight of your announcement settled over the table like a heavy blanket.

“what?” his voice was low, strained, as though he couldn’t quite believe what he had just heard.

you swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “my parents... they’ve arranged a marriage for me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’m engaged.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stared at you, his expression unreadable, though you could see the flicker of pain in his eyes. his jaw clenched slightly, his hand tightening around his glass as if he were trying to steady himself.

“when?” he finally asked, his voice tight, controlled.

“the date hasn’t been set yet,” you admitted, feeling your throat tighten with guilt. “but... soon.”

sunghoon sat back in his chair, his gaze dropping to the table. for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, the silence between you stretching into something unbearable. you could see the conflict in his eyes—the hurt, the frustration, the confusion. the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months even, was now thick with an unspoken finality.

finally, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and clouded with emotion. “congratulations,” he said quietly, though the word felt hollow, like it had been ripped from him unwillingly.

your heart sank, a wave of disappointment washing over you. you had expected... well, you didn’t know what you had expected. for him to fight for you, maybe, to protest or say something that would change everything. but instead, all you got was a distant, polite congratulations.

“sunghoon—” you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off.

“i’m happy for you,” he said, though the strain in his voice betrayed his true feelings. “i’m sure he’s a good man.”

the words stung, more than you had anticipated, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in your chest. this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. but what could you say? you were engaged, and he... he was congratulating you, just as any friend would.

“yeah,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. “thanks.”

but neither of you was happy, and you both knew it.

the walk back home felt heavier than usual. the excitement and easy flow of conversation that had filled the night seemed to dissipate into an awkward, thick silence. sunghoon walked beside you, his hands stuffed deep into his pockets, eyes focused on the road ahead. normally, you’d both talk about everything and nothing—jokes, shared memories, or the latest designs he had been working on. but tonight, every step felt strained, as if the unspoken words were choking both of you.

you could feel the weight of what had happened at the restaurant still hanging between you, as if the tension you hadn’t acted on had only grown with your admission. sunghoon had insisted on walking you home, just as he always did, though the usual warmth in the gesture felt distant now. neither of you had tried to break the silence, though you kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of your eye.

his face was unreadable, lips pressed into a thin line as he walked with an unusual stiffness. you wanted to say something, to break the thick silence, but no words came. the engagement had changed everything between you, and you hated how powerless it made you feel. there was a dull ache in your chest as you watched him struggle with the weight of emotions he clearly wasn’t ready to share.

when your house came into view, you slowed your steps, almost wishing the walk could last just a little longer. but it didn’t. you reached your doorstep, and just as you were about to thank sunghoon for the walk, the door swung open.

your mother appeared, her face lighting up the moment she saw the two of you standing there. “sunghoon! what a surprise!” she exclaimed warmly, stepping out and pulling him into an embrace before he could protest. “you look so well!”

sunghoon smiled politely, though you could tell he was caught off guard by her enthusiasm. “good evening, ma’am. i was just walking your daughter home.”

your mother beamed, glancing at you with that knowing look of hers. “he always does, doesn’t he?” she teased lightly. “such a good boy.”

“mama...” you muttered, feeling embarrassed.

but your mother wasn’t finished. “come in, come in! you can’t just leave him standing outside like that,” she scolded, ushering sunghoon into the house before either of you could object. you shot him an apologetic look, but he waved it off with a small smile as he followed her inside.

the warmth of your home enveloped you both, the familiar scent of dinner lingering in the air. your father was sitting by the fire, and when he saw sunghoon, his face brightened. “ah, there’s the young tailor everyone’s talking about! come, sit with us.”

sunghoon looked between you and your parents, clearly not wanting to intrude, but it was hard to refuse the hospitality of your family. you watched as he settled into one of the chairs near the fire, his polite smile fixed in place, though you could sense the unease in his posture.

your mother sat beside him, clasping his hands in hers as she looked at him with pride. “sunghoon, i’ve heard such incredible things about your work lately. everyone is talking about you, and we couldn’t be more proud.”

you could see the discomfort in his eyes as your mother’s words began to feel more like a reminder of the distance between you. he offered her a tight smile. “thank you. it’s been... unexpected.”

“and well deserved!” your father chimed in. “we always knew you’d make something of yourself, ever since you were little.”

your mother nodded eagerly, her gaze softening as she looked at him fondly. “we’ve seen you grow up alongside our daughter, sunghoon. you two have always been so close... practically inseparable.”

you stiffened at the words, knowing what was coming next.

“which is why,” your mother continued, glancing at you briefly before turning back to sunghoon, “it’s been so hard for her, this whole engagement business.”

your stomach twisted. the topic you had been dreading was now out in the open, and you didn’t miss the way sunghoon’s jaw tightened ever so slightly. he was trying to stay composed, but the flicker of surprise in his eyes was unmistakable.

“she’s protested quite a bit, hasn’t she?” your mother added, her tone half-amused, half-concerned.

sunghoon’s eyes darted toward you, his surprise evident. you could see the confusion in his expression as he processed your mother’s words. you hadn’t said yes to the engagement? not fully? he had assumed you had accepted it without question, but now...

you averted your gaze, feeling your cheeks flush under the weight of both his and your parents’ attention. you hadn’t exactly fought against the engagement with much force either. it was an unspoken understanding between you and your family that the marriage would happen eventually, even if your heart wasn’t fully in it. but now, seeing sunghoon’s expression shift, you could see the conflict in his eyes.

your mother continued on, oblivious to the tension now thick in the air. “it’s just nerves, of course. every girl feels a bit uncertain before a big step like this.” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “she’ll come around.”

you wanted to protest, to say something that would dispel the awkward silence stretching between you and sunghoon, but the words caught in your throat. instead, your mother’s next words hit like a hammer, unknowingly driving the wedge deeper.

“actually,” she began, her voice suddenly filled with excitement, “we were hoping you could help us with something, sunghoon.”

he blinked, taken aback by her tone. “of course, ma’am. what is it?”

“well,” she said, glancing at you with a grin, “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?”

the room felt as if it had dropped several degrees, the weight of her request pressing down on all of you. you felt your stomach churn, a sinking feeling of dread settling in. you hadn’t expected this—he hadn’t expected this. you watched as sunghoon’s expression faltered for the briefest moment, his composure slipping as the full impact of your mother’s words hit him.

make your wedding dress. your wedding dress.

he smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “i’d be honored,” he said quietly, his voice strained.

your mother clapped her hands together, beaming with delight. “oh, that’s wonderful! i knew we could count on you, sunghoon.”

he stood up then, a sudden stiffness in his movements. “thank you for your kindness,” he said, his voice more formal now. “but it’s late, and i should be going.”

your mother stood as well, ushering him toward the door with a fond smile. “of course, of course. but we must meet soon to discuss the dress!”

sunghoon nodded, his gaze avoiding yours as he headed for the door. you followed behind in silence, the heaviness between you both suffocating.

at the doorstep, he paused, his hand resting on the doorframe as he turned to face you one last time. there was something broken in his expression, a quiet sadness that you couldn’t quite place. for a moment, it seemed as if he might say something—something real, something raw—but then, he simply nodded.

“good night,” he whispered, before turning and walking away.

as you watched him disappear into the night, your heart ached with the words left unsaid, the feelings unspoken, and the love you both were too afraid to fight for.

as sunghoon walked through the dimly lit streets, the cool night air did little to ease the storm brewing inside him. each step echoed in the stillness, but his mind was anything but calm. the evening had turned from tense excitement into a suffocating weight pressing down on his chest.

he replayed your mother’s words over and over in his mind: “who better to make our daughter’s wedding dress than the most talented designer in town?” the words had cut deeper than any blade, the cruel irony of it all making his heart twist painfully. he had dreamed of crafting something beautiful for you, yes, but never like this. not for someone else’s wedding. not for the marriage that would take you away from him.

sunghoon clenched his fists, his knuckles white as his nails bit into his palms. a marriage. to someone else. he could barely picture it, the idea so foreign and painful that it seemed absurd. but the reality was right there, looming in front of him like an unstoppable force. he had always known that this day would come. you were from a noble family, destined to marry someone of status. and him? he was a tailor, nothing more. his growing reputation in town meant little in comparison to the weight of your family’s expectations.

it’s for the best, he told himself, over and over, like a mantra he hoped would dull the pain. your life with that man—whoever he was—would be easier, more secure. you’d live the life you were meant to lead, filled with luxury, stability, and everything a noblewoman deserved. sunghoon had nothing to offer in comparison. even with his recent success, his craft could never provide you with the life that an arranged marriage could.

sunghoon’s pace quickened, the weight of his emotions making it harder to breathe. his mind whirled with a painful realization: it’s better this way. he had no right to confess his feelings to you now. no right to complicate your life any further. you were getting married, and he had to respect that. confessing his love wouldn’t change anything—it would only hurt you more, and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of your pain.

he thought of the way you had looked at him tonight, how your eyes had softened when you admitted that you hadn’t agreed to the marriage yet. the flicker of hope that had briefly ignited in his chest had been swiftly extinguished by the cold voice of reason. you deserved better than him, better than a life filled with uncertainty and struggle. and even though it tore him apart inside, sunghoon knew he had to let you go.

she’ll be happier without me. the thought twisted like a knife in his heart, but he held onto it like a lifeline. it was easier to believe that than to face the truth—that he was simply too afraid. too afraid to fight for you, too afraid of what loving you truly meant. because if he did confess, if he asked you to choose him, what then? you would have to give up your life of comfort, your family’s support, and the future they had planned for you. and what if you regretted that decision later? what if he couldn’t be enough for you?

no. he wouldn’t let that happen. he couldn’t risk it.

by the time sunghoon reached his workshop, his heart was heavy with the decision he had made. he stepped inside, the familiar smell of fabric and wood filling the space around him, but it no longer brought him any comfort. he stood in the dim light, surrounded by the tools of his trade—the very things that had brought him success—and felt nothing but emptiness.

he wouldn’t confess. he couldn’t.

because he loved you too much to ask you to settle for less.

the tension between you and sunghoon hung in the air like a thick fog, clouding everything you had once held dear.

he avoided you, not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t bear to look you in the eye. each passing day, you found yourself hoping—desperately—that he would come to you, that he would say something to stop the impending wedding. but instead, sunghoon pretended to be okay. he carried on with his work, his life, as if the confession hadn’t happened. as if you hadn’t bared your soul to him and he hadn’t done the same. he buried his emotions, putting on that same calm, controlled front, and it drove you mad.

he wouldn’t fight for you.

your heart ached with the realisation, and it became painfully clear during the next few days that sunghoon had no intention of changing the course of things. the silence between you both was unbearable, the distance growing wider with each passing moment. and just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your parents made it worse.

they scheduled an appointment with sunghoon for the most painful task yet: designing your wedding dress.

the irony of it was too cruel. sunghoon, the man who knew every inch of you, who had memorised your shape, your measurements, who had held you so intimately in his arms, was now tasked with crafting the gown you would wear as you married someone else. it was the final blow, the final insult, to a relationship that had been ripped apart by circumstances you couldn’t control.

when the day of the appointment arrived, you found yourself standing outside his workshop, dread pooling in your stomach. you didn’t want to go inside. you didn’t want to face him, not after everything that had happened, and certainly not for this.

with a deep breath, you pushed the door open, stepping into the familiar space that now felt cold and foreign. sunghoon was already there, standing by his work table with rolls of fabric laid out in front of him, but the usual warmth in his eyes was absent. he looked up when you entered, his expression neutral, professional. he greeted you with a small nod.

“let’s get started,” he said, his voice low, as if he too was trying to suppress the emotions that lingered just beneath the surface.

you could barely look at him. the air was thick with tension, and you forced yourself to speak, though your voice came out flat, distant.

“i don’t even know why i’m here,” you muttered, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “this is just… a formality.”

sunghoon’s eyes flickered briefly with something—hurt, maybe—but he masked it quickly. “your parents want you to have the perfect dress. it’s important to them.”

the atmosphere inside sunghoon’s workshop felt suffocating. you sat rigidly on a small chair, staring at the neatly folded fabrics in front of you while sunghoon prepared his tools. everything about the moment felt forced, mechanical, nothing like the ease and flow of your previous sessions together. you didn’t want to be there. and you were making it painfully clear.

sunghoon turned to face you, holding a few sketches in his hand, his face expressionless. but you could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken pain that lingered between you both. he wasn’t the same, and neither were you.

“so,” he began, keeping his voice calm and professional, “do you have any preferences for the neckline? maybe something you’ve always liked?”

you shrugged, not even looking up at him. “don’t know. don’t care.”

his brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing, nodding as if that response was perfectly normal. he glanced down at the sketches again, adjusting the paper. “okay… how about the fabric? i was thinking something soft, maybe silk? or—”

“whatever,” you muttered, crossing your arms. “doesn’t matter.”

sunghoon paused, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. you could feel his gaze, heavy with concern, but you refused to meet it. you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt you were, how badly you wanted him to say something, anything, that would change this.

he sighed quietly, turning back to his worktable. “i just want to make sure it’s perfect for you,” he said softly, his voice gentle but strained. “this is an important day…”

you clenched your jaw, the words digging into your heart like shards of glass. an important day? for who? certainly not for you. he kept talking about the wedding as if it were inevitable, as if you were excited about it, and it made your blood boil.

“what about the waistline?” he asked again, forcing the conversation to continue. “something fitted, or maybe a bit more relaxed?”

“i don’t care,” you replied tersely, your tone sharp. “you’re the expert, right? just do whatever.”

the silence that followed was deafening. sunghoon stood still for a moment, his hands resting on the fabrics, his back to you. you saw the slight slump in his shoulders, the way his fingers gripped the edge of the table just a little too tightly, and for a second, you almost regretted your words.

but the frustration bubbling inside you wouldn’t let up. you had come here hoping, praying, that he would give you a reason to stop the wedding, that he would fight for you. instead, you were sitting here discussing necklines and fabric as if everything was perfectly fine, as if you weren’t on the verge of losing everything.

he turned back around, this time holding a measuring tape. “let’s… start with your measurements,” he said, his voice sounding tired, defeated.

you stood up reluctantly, moving toward him, your movements stiff and reluctant. you stood there in the middle of the room, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest.

sunghoon stepped closer, the tape measure in his hands, and for a moment, you both stood in silence, the tension between you thick and suffocating. his proximity felt overwhelming, but this time, it wasn’t filled with the same spark as before. instead, it was heavy, burdened with all the things you both refused to say.

he hesitated for a second before gently wrapping the tape around your waist. his fingers brushed lightly against your skin, but there was no tenderness in the touch. it was robotic, methodical, like he was forcing himself to distance every part of him from you.

“what about the sleeves?” he asked quietly, trying to fill the silence. “long or short?”

“whatever,” you snapped. “it doesn’t matter. none of this matters.”

sunghoon froze for a moment, his hands stilling against your waist. the silence stretched between you, thick with unresolved tension, before he pulled away, the tape measure slipping from his fingers. he turned to face you, his expression strained, frustration and confusion swirling in his eyes.

“what’s going on with you?” he finally asked, his voice low but firm. “why are you acting like this?”

you stared at him, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and sorrow. his question was the breaking point, the floodgates that had been holding everything back bursting open all at once.

“why am i acting like this?” you repeated, your voice trembling with emotion. “because you’re standing here, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not!”

sunghoon’s brow furrowed, but he said nothing, his eyes searching yours for an explanation.

“this dress… this wedding… none of it matters to me!” you continued, your voice growing louder with every word. “i don’t want this. i never wanted this. and you know it, sunghoon. you know it better than anyone!”

he opened his mouth to respond, but you didn’t let him. the words kept pouring out, all the frustration and pain you had been bottling up for weeks finally spilling over.

“i’ve been waiting for you to say something, to do something—anything—that would make me stop this wedding. but you’ve just been standing there, acting like this is what i want when you know it isn’t!” your voice cracked, your hands trembling at your sides. “why won’t you say anything? why won’t you fight for me?”

sunghoon stared at you, the weight of your words hitting him like a punch to the gut. he looked down, his shoulders sagging as if the burden of everything you had just said was too much to bear.

“i… i thought this was what you wanted,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “i thought you deserved someone better than me. someone who could give you everything i can’t.”

you felt your heart clench painfully in your chest, the ache of his words almost unbearable. “that’s not for you to decide!” you shot back, your voice breaking. “you think i care about any of that? i don’t. i never did. the only thing i care about is you.”

the silence that followed was thick with raw emotion. sunghoon stood there, his expression torn, his hands trembling at his sides. he looked like he wanted to say something, like he was finally ready to fight, but the fear in his eyes held him back.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “i’m so sorry.”

the apology shattered whatever was left of your composure. you turned away, not able to stand the sight of him any longer.

“i don’t want to wear a wedding dress if it’s not for you,” you said quietly, tears brimming in your eyes. you swallowed the lump in your throat and forced yourself to leave, your heart breaking with every step you took toward the door.

sunghoon didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, broken, as you walked out of his life.

it was the dead of night, the streets shrouded in silence, broken only by the soft crunch of your hurried footsteps on the cobblestone path. you didn’t look back. you couldn’t. not when you had finally made your decision. with nothing but the small bags clutched in your hands, you walked with purpose, heart pounding as you made your way toward sunghoon’s home.

the weight of the evening air pressed against your skin, thick with the lingering tension that had been suffocating you for days. since that fateful conversation at his workshop, the ache in your chest had only deepened, every moment spent away from him gnawing at you. there was no escaping it. you couldn’t go through with the marriage. not when you knew where your heart truly lay.

the small house loomed ahead, a single dim light flickering from the window, signalling that sunghoon was still awake. your pulse quickened, the gravity of what you were about to do hitting you all at once. you were throwing away everything—your family’s expectations, your arranged marriage, the life you had been destined to live—all for him. and yet, none of it scared you.

because sunghoon was worth it. he was the only thing you wanted.

you reached the door, your breath shallow as you hesitated for a split second, your heart hammering in your chest. then, without another thought, you raised your hand and knocked.

a few moments passed, the silence inside the house dragging on like an eternity before you heard soft footsteps approaching. the door creaked open, revealing sunghoon standing there, his hair tousled, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw you standing there, drenched in moonlight, with your bags in hand.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with confusion, concern flickering across his features as he glanced between you and the bags at your side. “what are you—what’s going on?”

you didn’t answer right away. instead, you stepped forward, crossing the threshold into his home without invitation, leaving him to close the door behind you. the room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the familiar space where so much of your time together had unfolded. it felt both comforting and surreal to be here now, on the brink of something monumental.

“i couldn’t do it,” you said at last, your voice barely a whisper but filled with determination. “i couldn’t marry him, sunghoon.”

he stood there, frozen, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what do you mean? the wedding—it’s—”

“i don’t want to marry him,” you interrupted, turning to face him fully, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that made your heart race. “i don’t want any of this. the wedding, the life my parents planned for me—it’s not what i want. it’s never been what i wanted.”

sunghoon’s breath hitched, his confusion deepening, but you could see the glimmer of hope slowly dawning in his eyes. “then… what are you saying?”

you dropped your bags to the floor and stepped closer to him, the raw emotion swirling inside you finally breaking free. “what i’m saying is that i’m here, right now, because i’m choosing you, sunghoon. all i’ve ever wanted is you. i thought—i hoped—you’d feel the same. but you never said anything. and i can’t keep waiting.”

his eyes widened, a storm of emotions flashing across his face. he looked torn between disbelief and longing, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came out.

“i know you think i deserve better,” you continued, your voice growing more urgent, your hands trembling slightly as you reached out to him, “but i don’t care about that. i don’t care about anything except you. all i wanted—all i ever wanted—was for you to tell me you felt the same. to fight for me.”

sunghoon swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours, and for the first time since you had shown up, he looked utterly vulnerable. “i do… i do feel the same, y/n. i’ve always felt the same. but i thought—” his voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “i thought you’d be better off without me. i was afraid i’d ruin your life if i held you back from everything you deserve.”

you shook your head fiercely, your heart pounding. “you’re wrong. you never would have ruined anything. the only thing that’s been ruining me is the thought of losing you.”

tears welled up in his eyes, his composure crumbling as the weight of his emotions finally caught up to him. he took a step closer, his hands reaching out to gently cup your face. his touch was warm, familiar, filled with the tenderness that had been missing for so long.

“y/n,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “i don’t deserve you… but i can’t let you go.”

your breath caught in your throat as the distance between you vanished. his hands trembled slightly against your skin, but the intensity in his gaze spoke volumes. you could feel the raw need, the longing that had been suppressed for too long, finally coming to the surface.

“then don’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “don’t let me go, sunghoon. i love you. i’ve always loved you. and i’m not going anywhere unless it’s with you.”

the words seemed to unlock something in him. without another second of hesitation, he pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate, passionate kiss that spoke of all the years of pent-up desire and unspoken feelings between you. it was everything you had hoped for, everything you had longed for—pure, unfiltered love.

when he finally pulled away, breathless and trembling, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes still closed, as if savouring the moment.

“run away with me,” you whispered, your hands still tangled in his shirt. “we can leave this place, start a new life. i don’t care where we go as long as i’m with you.”

sunghoon opened his eyes, searching yours for any hint of doubt, but all he saw was determination—love. a soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him, his fingers tracing the lines of your face as if committing them to memory.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice shaking. “are you really sure about this?”

you smiled, leaning into his touch, your heart swelling with the certainty of your decision. “i’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

sunghoon closed his eyes again, pulling you into a tight embrace, as if afraid to let go. “i love you,” he murmured against your hair, his voice raw with emotion. “i’ve always loved you.”

tears of relief and joy welled up in your eyes as you buried your face in his chest, holding onto him like he was your lifeline. this was what you had been waiting for. this was all you ever needed.

“we’ll leave tonight,” he whispered, his voice resolute. “we’ll start over, just the two of us.”

you nodded, a smile breaking through the tears as you felt the weight of the world lifting from your shoulders. this was your new beginning. your future with sunghoon, the one you had always dreamed of.

and together, you knew you could face whatever came next.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting its pale glow over the winding road that stretched out before you and sunghoon. the cool night air clung to your skin as you both moved in silence, hearts pounding in unison as you left the only life you had ever known behind. with each step, the weight of your decision lifted, replaced by a thrill that sent shivers down your spine.

you glanced over at sunghoon, his face illuminated by the moonlight, a mix of determination and exhilaration playing on his features. his hand gripped yours tightly, as if afraid to let go, as if letting go would mean losing you forever. neither of you had spoken much since leaving his house, but the unspoken understanding between you was stronger than ever.

the path ahead was unknown, but that no longer frightened you. in fact, it excited you.

as you crested the hill that overlooked your town, you both stopped for a moment, turning to take in the view one last time. the place where you had grown up, where your families lived, where your life had been planned out for you—it all felt so distant now, like a world you were no longer part of.

you turned to sunghoon, a soft smile tugging at your lips despite the enormity of what you were doing. “so… where are we going?”

he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with that familiar spark of ambition you had always admired. “there’s a city,” he began, his voice low and steady. “a place i’ve always dreamed of going. it’s known for fashion, for artisans, for people like me who want to make a name for themselves.”

you could see the excitement dancing in his eyes, the dream he had always kept close to his heart. “i’ve heard of it,” you said, your smile growing. “you’re talking about sorina, aren’t you?”

he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening. “yes. it’s always been my dream to open my own studio there. to create something that’s entirely mine. but… i never thought i’d actually go. i didn’t think i’d have the chance.”

your heart swelled with pride and affection as you looked at him. “well, now you do,” you said softly. “and you’re not going alone.”

his expression softened, and for a moment, he just looked at you—really looked at you, as if he still couldn’t believe this was happening. then, with a quiet laugh, he pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “i don’t deserve you,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

you smiled against his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “you’re wrong. you’re everything i deserve.”

with one final glance at the town behind you, the two of you turned and began your journey to sorina, the city of dreams. the road ahead was long, but the promise of a new life with sunghoon made every step feel lighter. the thought of him creating masterpieces, of you being by his side as his muse, filled you with a hope you had never known.

and as the two of you settled into your new life in sorina, that peace only grew. sunghoon’s dreams were coming to life with every stitch, every sketch. he was thriving in a way that you had always known he could, and you were there to see it all. your role as his muse was more than a job or a title—it was the culmination of your deep connection, your bond that had grown through years of friendship and love unspoken.

there were moments when the thought of your parents crossed your mind. the guilt of running away lingered in the back of your heart at times, knowing how much they had hoped for you to marry into the match they had chosen. you wondered if they were angry, disappointed, or hurt by your decision. but as days turned into weeks, those worries faded. you knew your parents—they loved you too much to hold on to their disappointment forever.

"i’m sure they’ll forgive me," you said one evening, resting your head on sunghoon's shoulder as you both watched the busy city streets from your studio. "they’ll come to understand… eventually."

sunghoon looked at you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of doubt. “you really think so?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “i know they will. they’ve always wanted me to be happy. and when they see how happy we are… when they see all you’ve achieved, they’ll realise we made the right choice.”

he reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb lingering against your cheek. “i hope so,” he said, his voice quiet but filled with warmth. “i just want you to have everything you deserve. i want them to see that.”

“they will,” you reassured him, your voice soft but firm. “they’ve known you all your life, sunghoon. they know how hard you’ve worked. they’ll see why i chose you. why we chose each other.”

sunghoon’s lips curved into a small smile, one that made your heart flutter. “we’ll make a life together that’s worth showing them. one day, when they see what we’ve built, they’ll understand.”

and deep down, you knew he was right. your parents loved you, and in time, they would see the joy that your life with sunghoon brought you. they would forgive the abrupt departure, the wedding that never was. because while it wasn’t the life they had envisioned for you, it was the one you had always dreamed of.

as sunghoon’s studio grew, and as the two of you thrived in sorina, you no longer felt the weight of your decision. you had chosen love over duty, dreams over expectations. and in the end, you knew it would all work out. one day, when the time was right, you would return to your parents—not as the daughter who had run away, but as the woman who had found her happiness.

for now, though, the life you had built with sunghoon was everything you had ever wanted. the city of fashion, the thriving studio, the man you loved—it was more than enough.

and with every stitch sunghoon sewed, every dress he designed, you were reminded that you had made the right choice. together, you had found your place in the world. and you had no doubt that the people you loved most would come to understand that too.

BONUS SCENE !

in sorina, life had unfolded beautifully, and not just for sunghoon. the city may have been known for fashion, but it was also a hub of opportunity for anyone willing to carve out their own path—and you had done just that.

while sunghoon spent his days sketching and tailoring in his studio, you found your own passion and footing in the city. before long, you’d built something of your own—a modest business in jewellery making, a craft you had dabbled in back home but now took seriously. the bustling markets of sorina were filled with artisans from every walk of life, and soon your intricately designed pieces caught the eye of locals and visitors alike.

at first, it was a hobby. a way to pass the time while sunghoon worked. but it didn’t take long for you to gain recognition. your designs, delicate yet bold, paired perfectly with the high-end garments sunghoon was crafting. your pieces began to complement his work, and you both realised the potential of collaborating together—not just in love but in business.

the two of you often worked late into the night, your small workbench tucked in the corner of his studio. sunghoon would be bent over his latest creation, needles and thread in hand, while you arranged shimmering stones and metals into intricate patterns.

“you know,” sunghoon said one evening, breaking the comfortable silence between you, “we’re going to need a bigger space soon.”

you looked up from your work, raising an eyebrow. “why’s that?”

he smirked, nodding toward the scattered jewellery and sketches of new designs littering the floor. “because you’re taking over my studio, that’s why.”

you chuckled, shaking your head as you placed a bracelet you’d been working on down on the table. “i think we both know you’re the one taking up all the space. these fabrics are everywhere.”

“touché,” he replied with a grin, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “but i’m serious. your business is growing. people are asking for your pieces specifically now. you’ve got clients lined up at the door. we can’t keep pretending this is just a side gig.”

you shrugged, but your smile betrayed your pride. “maybe. but it’s not like i’m doing this on my own. you’ve helped me a lot. half of the clients only know about my jewellery because it’s paired with your designs.”

sunghoon shook his head. “no. they come for you. you’ve worked hard to get here. don’t downplay that.”

his words warmed your heart, and you leaned back in your chair, watching him for a moment. “i guess we’ve both come a long way, haven’t we?”

he met your gaze, the familiar spark of affection lighting up his eyes. “more than i ever imagined.”

as the weeks passed, the collaboration between your jewellery and sunghoon’s garments became the talk of the city. nobles and royals who ordered dresses from sunghoon began requesting matching jewellery pieces from you. soon, you were no longer just sunghoon’s muse or his partner—you were an established name in your own right.

at events and gatherings, whispers of “have you seen her designs?” filled the halls, your name mentioned alongside sunghoon’s, but never overshadowed by it. the partnership between the two of you was equal, balanced by your mutual respect and admiration for one another’s talents. while sunghoon’s studio flourished, so did your own reputation. you set up a small stall in the heart of the city, your jewellery catching the sunlight and drawing the attention of passersby. with each new order, you found yourself standing more confidently in this new life you had built.

one evening, as the two of you sat in the now-expanded studio, reviewing orders and discussing the future, sunghoon turned to you, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“so, what’s next for you? you’ve got clients begging for your work, you’re practically a household name now,” he teased, nudging you gently. “maybe it’s time you open your own studio, too?”

you smiled, considering his words. “maybe. i’ve been thinking about it, actually.”

sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “oh? you’ve got plans you’re not telling me?”

you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, nothing concrete. but i do think it’s time i take things to the next level. i want to expand, maybe hire a few apprentices. i don’t want to just make jewellery—i want to teach others how to do it, too. there’s a lot of talent in this city that deserves to be nurtured.”

he looked at you with such pride in his eyes, it made your heart swell. “you’re incredible, you know that?”

you shrugged, trying to downplay your excitement. “i’m just doing what i love.”

“and you’re damn good at it,” he said firmly. “don’t forget that.”

it wasn’t long before you made that dream a reality. you secured a space in one of the city’s artisan districts, a small but beautiful shop where you could sell your creations and train apprentices in the art of jewellery making. the shop was an extension of yourself—chic, elegant, and full of the creativity that had always been a part of you.

soon, your shop became as well-known as sunghoon’s studio. the two of you were often talked about together, not as a couple who had run away from their old lives, but as two individuals who had built something remarkable side by side.

every piece of jewellery you created had its own story, just as every dress sunghoon designed had its own flair. and while you both supported each other’s work, neither of you relied solely on the other to define your success.

the life you had built together in sorina was not just about love—it was about the dreams you had both nurtured and the independence you cherished. you were more than sunghoon’s muse. you were a creator, a designer, a businesswoman in your own right.

as the sun set over sorina, casting a warm, golden glow across the city, you stood at the threshold of your jewelry shop, taking in the scene before you. the streets were alive with people bustling between vendors, artisans displaying their wares, and musicians playing softly in the distance. your heart swelled with contentment as you looked out over the life you had built, not just for yourself, but alongside sunghoon.

the sound of footsteps broke you from your thoughts, and you turned just in time to see him approaching. his face was illuminated by the setting sun, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he drew closer. even after all this time, your heart still skipped a beat whenever you saw him. there was something about the way he carried himself, the quiet confidence, the kindness in his eyes, that always made you feel safe and cherished.

"busy day?" he asked, his voice low and familiar as he stopped in front of you, his gaze warm.

you nodded, leaning against the doorframe with a soft smile. "busier than usual. i think word is spreading faster than i expected. what about you? how’s the studio?"

he chuckled, glancing back toward his own shop down the street. "same here. we might need to start hiring more help."

you laughed softly, and the two of you stood there for a moment, soaking in the peaceful atmosphere around you. the city was beautiful in the fading light, and for a brief second, everything felt perfect. but then sunghoon shifted slightly, his eyes locking with yours, and you saw something deeper flicker in them—something that had never fully disappeared.

without a word, he reached out, gently brushing a loose strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering just a little too long. the simple gesture sent a shiver down your spine, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension that had only grown stronger over the months.

“you’ve got a speck of something,” he murmured, his voice softer now, more intimate. “right here.”

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as his fingers lightly grazed your skin. “thanks,” you whispered, barely able to find your voice.

sunghoon didn’t pull away immediately. instead, he stayed close, his eyes never leaving yours. there was something different in his gaze tonight—something tender, yet intense. and as you looked back at him, you felt the weight of all the moments you’d shared, the quiet yearning that had simmered between you since the day you’d arrived in this city together.

“do you ever think about… everything?” he asked suddenly, his voice breaking the stillness. he didn’t have to explain further. you both knew exactly what he meant.

you swallowed hard, your heart racing. “i do,” you admitted quietly. “every day.”

his hand slipped down to your waist, tentative at first, as if testing the waters. but when you didn’t pull away, he drew you in closer, until your bodies were nearly touching, the warmth of his chest radiating against yours. you could feel the rise and fall of his breath, and it was intoxicating.

“i never imagined…” sunghoon’s voice was barely a whisper now, his lips close to your ear, sending another wave of shivers down your spine. “that we’d end up here. together.”

you leaned your forehead against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you took in his scent—so familiar and comforting. “me neither.”

for a long moment, you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of you daring to move or speak. the world outside seemed to melt away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in time.

and then, without warning, sunghoon pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up with his fingers, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“i love you,” he whispered, the words escaping him like they’d been held back for far too long. “i’ve always loved you.”

your heart stopped, the confession hanging in the air between you, heavy and undeniable. you had known it, felt it, but hearing the words out loud still sent a rush of emotion through you.

“i love you too,” you replied softly, the words coming out as naturally as breathing.

sunghoon smiled—a slow, tender smile that reached his eyes. and before you knew it, he was leaning in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft at first but quickly grew more passionate. it was as if all the years of longing, of unspoken feelings and missed opportunities, had finally culminated in this moment.

you melted into the kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer. his lips were warm and gentle, yet insistent, and you could feel the depth of his emotions in every touch. the world spun around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, sunghoon rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet of the evening.

“i don’t want to wait anymore,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. “we’ve waited long enough.”

you nodded, your heart swelling with a sense of certainty you hadn’t felt in a long time. “neither do i.”

you smiled, feeling a deep sense of peace settle over you. the future felt bright, and for the first time, you could see it clearly—both of you, side by side, not just as lovers but as equals. you were no longer running away from the life you didn’t want. instead, you were running toward the life you had built together, filled with love, passion, and the promise of a beautiful tomorrow.

you weren’t just sunghoon’s muse. you weren’t just a girl who had fallen in love. you were a woman who had taken control of her destiny, and now, with sunghoon by your side, you were ready for whatever the future held.

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

taglist: @punchbug9-blog @firstclassjaylee @capri-cuntz @addictedtohobi @jaysfavoritegirl (the rest will be tagged in the comments since tumblr is acting up again )

☁︎ . , PERSONAL CUDDLE BUDDY , P.SH !

PAIRING: boyfriend ! sunghoon × girlfriend ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: when you can't help but want to stay closer to your boyfriend even when the electricity goes off. GENRE: fluff, drabble. WARNING(S): kisses, cuddling, not proofread, pure fluff. WORD COUNT: 570. [NAV] [MASTERLIST] [MINI SERIES]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

“Sunghoon,” you whispered softly, nudging him as the room suddenly plunged into darkness, the sound of the thunderstorm raging outside filling the air.

He stirred, his voice groggy but tender. “Did the power go out again?” He couldn’t see you, but he could hear the faint worry in your voice.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, your fingers clutching the edge of his shirt.

He shifted closer, his warmth instantly wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. “Are you scared?” His voice was soft, and before you could answer, he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. The faint scent of him and the steady rhythm of his breathing were enough to calm your nerves.

“Not when I’m with you,” you murmured, burying your face in the safety of his embrace, your forehead pressed against his heartbeat. The storm outside seemed distant now, and the darkness wasn’t so overwhelming.

His fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, his lips grazing the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he whispered, his voice a gentle promise.

In his arms, the storm could rage on, but all you felt was his warmth, his presence, and the peace that came with it.

As the storm rumbled outside, you felt the tension in your body slowly dissolve in Sunghoon's embrace. His arm tightened around you, anchoring you against him, and you could feel the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your cheek.

“Do you want to move a bit?” he suggested softly, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I think we’d both feel better if we were a little closer.”

With a gentle tug, he shifted you both into a more comfortable position, your bodies nestled together like pieces of a puzzle. You turned slightly, facing him, and found his eyes glimmering in the faint light that flickered through the window.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You settled into the curve of his body, feeling his warmth seep into you, making the chilly air outside seem like a distant memory. The weight of his arm across your shoulders felt like a protective shield, and you instinctively curled up closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice soft, as he adjusted his hold to make sure you were comfortable.

“More than okay,” you replied, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. The rhythmic sound of his breathing began to lull you into a sense of serenity. You closed your eyes, feeling utterly safe in his arms.

With every passing moment, the storm outside became a mere backdrop to the warmth that enveloped you both. Sunghoon brushed a lock of hair from your forehead and pressed a gentle kiss there, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Just us against the world,” he murmured, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought. The chaos outside faded further away as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, both of you cocooned in a world where only comfort and warmth existed.

In that moment, it felt like the storm was a faraway whisper, and all that mattered was this closeness, this sense of belonging, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. Time slipped away as you both surrendered to the cozy cocoon of each other's presence, finding solace in the simplest act of being together.

© senascoop | tumblr

archives

just the two of us, 깊어져 가는 moonstruck

oh you make me go crazy over you

FIXED COMFORT | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: typically, sunghoon’s the one who takes care of you when you’ve had one too many. but once in a blue moon, he lets his guard down and allows you to care for him the way he does for you.

or, the one where sunghoon’s drunk at a bar and misses his girlfriend a little too much.

NOTES: idk I just feel like someone should let him sleep for six months straight!!!

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 4.4K (4444 exactly—she’s a shortie).

WARNINGS: fluff on fluff on fluff.

***

“Hey, do you think you could come get Sunghoon from the bar? He’s been asking for you for the past hour.”  

Jay’s phone call pulls you out from a deep slumber on a Saturday night that falls on a day with no plans other than pure relaxation. Sunghoon had been preoccupied with work and classes this past week and wanted to unwind by drinking at his favorite bar with his closest friends and all you wanted to do was sleep the weekend away. 

Since the two of you started dating six months ago after being friends for a little over two years, you both agree on the notion that you’ve found a good balance between time spent together and apart respectively. Nothing fundamentally changed with the exception of kissing and touching one another in the way a couple would. He still respects your independence and you respect his time away from you as well. 

Sunghoon learned quickly that you’re the type of person who values your alone time more than anything else. When he first started developing feelings for you, grappling with your absence wasn’t easy. He initially thought you weren’t interested in getting to know him the way he was with you because you weren’t afraid to decline invitations and telling people ‘no.’ Slowly, over the course of many months of pining and late night conversations, did Sunghoon learn that you’re typically your best self after a moment of isolation. 

Your boyfriend is somewhere in between an introvert and extrovert. He tends to be shy when he meets people he isn’t familiar with while his loud, rambunctious attitude is typically reserved for those who know him best. He likes to keep to himself for the most part, giving some of his personality away when he feels his walls start to crumble naturally. You love that he has a good head on his shoulders and that he’s able to tell you about his feelings while maintaining an air of confidence. He doesn’t inherently need anybody; he likes your company and will do anything to keep it.

Moments like this are when your heart feels softer for Sunghoon than when the two of you were just friends.

“I know you wanted to spend the weekend alone but Hoon’s been saying your name all night,” Jay says. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“No, it’s fine.” You’re sure Jay can hear your brittle voice. “Are you guys at the bar near your place?”

“That’s the one. Thanks again and I’m really sorry for waking you up.”

“Don’t sweat it. Cook me something next week if you still feel bad.” 

“I can do that. Chili oil noodles with shrimp sound good?”

“It’s almost like you know me.” He laughs at your sarcasm. 

“Drive safe.” 

When Jay hangs up, you allow yourself a few minutes to adjust and wake up, stretching your body from the warm comfort of your blankets. You change out of Sunghoon’s shirt to put on pajama pants and another one of his stolen shirts, opting not to take a jacket since you figure you won’t be out for very long. 

You thank your past self for filling up your gas tank before tonight after having put it off for a few days. Knowing Sunghoon, he would still scold you for allowing yourself to run nearly empty before filling it up even if he was inebriated. Somehow, knowing this about him brings a smile to your face.

Sunghoon’s the kind of guy who likes to have some control over certain things. He likes order and structure, often waking up at the same hour every weekday to build a routine his body can remember. He’s been like that since you first met him but you think it’s part of his charm. Even from two years ago, when you met him through Jake Sim, Sunghoon has maintained a level of confidence and control that he does now. On the heels of an impressive skating career before pivoting to focus on higher education, Sunghoon had his preferences and will stick by them. 

His discipline is the first thing you noticed when you met him for the first time. Jay, someone you were already familiar with, agreed to cook dinner with your friend group under the condition that everyone helped him shop and chip in for the meal. Sunghoon held Jake back from buying unnecessary things like boxed chocolate milk and candy because Jay had desserts back at his place. He held a checklist of items whereas the rest of your friends ran up and down the aisles without thinking much about what needed to be purchased.

Sunghoon’s near-meticulous behavior is juxtaposed to your chaotic and rambunctious nature. You often follow your gut instead of setting a solid plan because you’re not concerned with meeting deadlines, sans education. Whereas you tend to lean towards a go-with-the-flow attitude, Sunghoon is the opposite. But that’s something he loves about you.  

At a surface level distinction, it didn’t seem like the two of you would get along as well as you did. It surprised Jake when Sunghoon asked for your number so he could text you about seeing a comedy film with him as no one else in the group wanted to see it. Including you at an impromptu study session with him (Sunghoon was organized and neat while your pens were spread all over and your study methods, haphazard) felt like watching two people clash. 

Rather, you and Sunghoon complement one another. 

The idea of letting himself go with someone who wasn’t part of his friend collective was unheard of. Getting to know a girl who didn’t share similar lifestyles didn’t appeal to him before meeting you, and you’re inarguably the most chaotic person Sunghoon knows. But he finds that there’s order within your chaos—you know who you are and what you want, and you will not compromise yourself just to please other people. 

It’s what Sunghoon loves the most about you. There’s a boundary you never let anyone cross under the assumption that your own safety net feels compromised. He’s watched you lose friends for this same reason and has always admired the way you carry yourself like you know you deserve better than people who disrespect you. He’s witnessed the grace you maintain when people who call you a friend voice words of kindness but speak ill about you behind your back. If anything, Sunghoon feels pity for anyone who crosses you to the point of anger. To be envious of another’s confidence is one thing. To make that known is another. 

Sunghoon learns that you let your inhibitions go because holding control over yourself feels like a burden. It feels like setting a standard you will never be able to meet. He never thought of order in that way before getting to know you. Your approach to life sparked a new wave of emotions within him to the point where he was open and willing to let you farther into his life. 

His days were ruled by guidelines he had to maintain and proper etiquette that followed him even off the rink. The poise he carried from his career on the ice bled into his personal life too. Although, he doesn’t mind that it does. Sunghoon values any form of structure because it makes him feel like he has a purpose and that there’s something to be accomplished at the end of the day. 

Most times, Sunghoon’s feels like people judge him for his regimen and can’t fathom why he appreciates control so much. They tell him to let loose and enjoy his time away from his career. People always think he simply doesn’t know how to have fun because he’s set in his ways and won’t let other people coax him into doing something he’s not comfortable with. But not you. Sunghoon has never felt like you‘ve judged how he chooses to live his life. 

Before he knew it, a year had passed and he started to call you one of his best friends. The friendship was gradual. Sunghoon didn’t have many close female friends in the way he does with Heeseung, Jay, and Jake. You’re the first person since ending his career who hasn’t tried to pry into the why. In fact, Sunghoon enjoys that you didn’t bring it up. 

(You did, in the form of cooing over his younger self skating in competitions for the first time or roasting all of the outfits he had to wear. But somehow, all of your jabs made him feel happier than when people complimented his performance.)

Eventually, being around you felt too right. He loved it when you took naps on his bed and felt comfortable raiding your kitchen pantry without permission. Sunghoon could leave you in his apartment without him being in it and feel at ease. In fact, he started to look forward to coming home to you. All it took was seeing you wear his hoodie because you got too cold and forgot your jacket, to make him drop his bag by the front door and ask you to be his girlfriend. He hasn’t regretted anything with you since. 

The weather is cold outside since it’s approaching the middle of autumn. You let your car warm up and blast the heat all the way up while adjusting your defrosting settings before heading to the bar to pick up Sunghoon. You sift through your playlists and settle on soft indie melodies before you drive away from the curb. 

You’ve never seen Sunghoon get drunk to the point of needing extra help. Usually, you’re the one who goes a little too hard whenever Heeseung brings out the alcohol or if Jake offers an edible or two. Sunghoon likes to sit back and stay sober (or sober up by the end of the night) when he notices you having too much fun. He doesn’t mind, though. Sunghoon likes taking care of you because sometimes it gives him purpose. You’ve never understood that sentiment but to each their own. 

The only times you’ve seen him completely wasted are usually when you’re equally as gone, like on your first road trip as a couple. The five of you rented a lakehouse a few hours from Seoul and spent an entire weekend basking under the hot sun and chose to forget about university stress before finals would inevitably kick everyone’s ass. All five of you were cross-faded (but not without Jay and Sunghoon both prepping water bottles and snacks for when the munchies would hit prior to taking anything). You watched Sunghoon relax to the point where he was much quieter than he normally was and when you asked if he was doing alright, he looked you in the eye and told you he loved you for the first time. 

I always have, I think, he said as he brought your hand to his chest. You might not believe me because neither of us are sober but I swear I’ll tell you in the morning. 

Sunghoon gets affectionate when he’s drunk or high, often to the point of asking for reassurance. The rational side of his brain is temporarily disfigured. You don’t mind being there to tell him that he’s the love of your life and you’d never go anywhere when he gets like this. Although, you’re usually just as gone and gush all of your hidden emotionally-charged feelings, which pair well with Sunghoon’s need for validation sometimes. 

Your friends love your relationship. They don’t think it’s too much or too little, going so far as to take photos of the two of you when you aren’t looking. Some are funny like the pictures of you sleeping on his chest with drool pooling out of your mouth. Others are romantic and whimsical, like the pictures of Sunghoon looking at you like you’re the sunshine to his moonlight. They can’t get enough of you two. Your friends love knowing people they care about are deeply in love with one another and your relationship is somewhat of a reminder that true romance does exist. 

Thinking about this makes your heart swell as you park your car and tuck your keys inside your purse. The bouncer checks your ID and lets you inside the bar, and you already spot Jay off to the side. 

“Thanks for coming,” he says as he gives you a loose hug. “And sorry for waking you up.” 

You wave him off. “It’s fine. I’ve probably woken you up for worse.” 

“Yeah, like the time you and Jake wanted ramen at 3am and wouldn’t stop calling me because both of you got a little too high.” 

“Can you blame us?! You were like, two blocks away.” 

“Yeah, but did you need to eat with me?” 

“Duh. You’re like, the best person to eat a late night dinner with.” 

The two of you laugh as he leads you to the group. You see Sunghoon slumped over the table with his head in his arms and the rest of your friend group tries really hard not to seem too excited when they see you standing next to Jay. 

“Fucking finally.” Heeseung stands and gives you a quick side hug before Jake does the same. “Love you guys and all but he started to become unbearable when he kept showing us photos of you.”

Jake snorts. “Poor guy was almost about to cry.” That makes your heart soft. 

“He looks so cute,” you coo, tilting your head to savor this moment. It’s abnormal for you to be the sober one but you’re starting to understand why Sunghoon doesn’t mind taking care of you when you’re like this. 

Jay comes to stand next to you. “He’s not cute when he drank half his weight in alcohol and wouldn’t shut up about how pretty your hair is.” 

“What, do you don’t think my hair’s pretty?” The messy, unbrushed hair is enough to make the guys laugh. 

“Nah seriously, thanks for coming,” says Jake. “We felt bad calling you but he refuses to get out of his seat.” 

“It’s fine.” You wave him off and step closer to your boyfriend, who still hasn’t moved from his position. 

“Do your thing and we’ll be here if you need help bringing him to the car.” Heeseung smiles gratefully at you. 

Even the back of Sunghoon’s head is unfairly gorgeous. His hair always looks nice, although you credit that to his younger sister introducing him to a world of hair care products during his skating years. It feels soft to the touch as you stroke the back of his head until Sunghoon slowly comes to. You feel his body start to stir.

“Baby,” you say quietly, bending down until you’re next to him. “Wake up for me.” 

“Hm?” Sunghoon mumbles from his arms. He feels the sensation of your fingers carding through his hair and pulls himself from the table, wiping the spit from the corner of his mouth before realizing you’re standing next to him. “Y/N?”

“I’m right here.” 

He pulls his head up until he’s sitting upright in the booth, squinting up at you to adjust to the bar lights that disappeared when he closed his eyes. Your boyfriend looks so innocent like this. He looks at you with a wide, round gaze as if you’d appeared out of thin air and he’s trying his hardest to figure out how you’re standing in front of him. 

“Is it really you?” Sunghoon asks in a quiet voice. His tone makes your heart flutter and you reach your arms out until you’re cupping his jaw and rubbing the pads of your thumbs over his cheeks. Sunghoon melts into your touch and you feel his body start to relax. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, bug. Did you have fun tonight?”

He nods in your hands, “Mhm. Just tired now.”

“Jay said you were asking for me.” 

“I always ask for you.” Your cheeks heat up and you try to ignore the snickers from behind you. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place, yeah? You can sleep in my bed instead of this bar.” 

“Can we? I love the guys but I just missed you.”

“Simp,” Heeseung whispers before coughing into his fist. 

Sunghoon stands from the booth once you’ve taken a step back to give him the space to move. He’s surprisingly able to stand on his own and clutches onto his jacket as he makes his way to the door. 

“Sorry guys,” he mutters to the guys. 

“Yah, it’s fine,” Jay says as he waves Sunghoon off. 

“Get home safe,” Heeseung says as he opens the door for the two of you. Sunghoon waves behind him until you guide him to the car. 

“Can you put your jacket on for me?” You catch it in your hands after he nearly let them fall from his grasp. 

“Shit, sorry.” You watch Sunghoon put on one arm and then the other. He looks so childlike in this moment as he concentrates his hardest to put the jacket on without stumbling. 

It reminds you that he doesn’t show you this side of him often. Sunghoon, ever the poised individual who likes to know what’s ahead of him, has let his inhibitions down. Seeing his figure slowly push his body through the warm fabric has you biting back a smile. 

“Need help?”

Sunghoon looks down at his hands that are trying to zip his jacket up to no avail. He feels like his hands are too big and the zipper is too small. “Please.”

Your steady fingers cover Sunghoon’s and take over the tedious task. The metal is warm from his fingertips. You can feel him looking down at you and you temporarily fumble with the zipper, which makes him laugh.

“Silly,” he mutters. “Ah, fuck. I don’t know if I can open the door.”

You roll your eyes and open it for him. “You’re funny.” 

He slides into the seat as gracefully as he can without hitting his head on the roof. Sunghoon struggles, but manages to buckle himself in and grins up at you when he hears the click of the buckle. When you look down on him, the lamp post from above casts a soft glow on his face. He looks so youthful at this moment. Sunghoon has let go of his thoughts and couldn’t think about anything but the present moment even if he tried. 

He waits for you and mumbles about how cold it is when you turn the engine on. The warm air starts to uplift his spirits and he looks at you with us head pressed to the headrest.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”

“What?” you ask. “Why?”

He shrugs. “Dunno. Usually I’m the one taking care of you.”

“You don’t always have to be brave, you know.” 

Sunghoon doesn’t say anything. He reaches out to envelope your hand in his and squeezes it until he’s holding it loosely in the quiet of the evening.

“I love you.” 

Your heart blooms. “I love you right back.” He seems satisfied with your response and lets go of your hand so that you can drive back to your apartment. 

When you park on the curb, Sunghoon’s sober enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and wait for you to turn the engine off before opening his door carefully. He steps outside and leans back on the car door until you walk around the hood of the vehicle and grabs your hands to pull you into him. 

You feel his lips on your before you register what’s happening. He tastes faintly of pineapple soju and beer, and his mouth is warm. Despite his inebriated state, Sunghoon’s able to hold you between his hands as he moves to place them on your hips to balance your body after you’ve stumbled into him. 

The kiss itself is slow. In fact, it feels as though Sunghoon has slowed time around so that the two of you could enjoy the late night kiss uninterrupted. You can barely hear anything besides the ringing in your ears after being caught by surprise due to your boyfriend’s abrupt movements. Your mouths move in slow tandem and Sunghoon nearly pushes his tongue inside your mouth before pulling away to rest his forehead against your own.

“My baby,” he whispers against your lips before giving you another quick peck. 

“You are so cute.” You blurt out this confession like you’re still pining after him. “Let’s go inside, yeah?” 

The apartment is warm compared to the environment outside and Sunghoon slips off his shoes in favor of wearing his designated slippers. He doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time he does so, letting you pull him into the hallway until the two of you reach your bedroom. The hardwood floors feel better than the uneven pavement from outside.

He loves it here. It’s a sanctuary away from his apartment with the friends he will probably invite to his wedding. But something about your green comforter and hand-painted artwork adorning your walls makes Sunghoon feel like he would live by your side for the rest of his life. The scent of your room–warm peaches and vanilla–tugs at his heart strings. This is where he belongs. 

Likewise, you love seeing Sunghoon behave like this. It’s not commonplace for him to let people take care of him in the way you are now. He’s used to people looking out for his career and best interest but he struggles with allowing others to handle him with such care. After a decade of enduring harsh criticism and physical endurance, Sunghoon struggles to relax and allow others to take the reins. It’s partially why he loves taking care of you. Being able to provide that kind of love and support makes him feel wanted and needed, even if you tell him he’s more than enough a thousand times over. 

You leave him in your room to change his clothes taken from his designated drawer while you prepare skincare and the works. You hear him shuffle outside and fall onto the bed once, prompting you to hold your laughter in as you wash your hands and pull out hair clips for him to use. 

“I can’t lie,” Sunghoon says as you emerge from the bathroom to see him in a big t-shirt and pajama bottoms, “I’m really looking forward to you doing my skincare.” 

You snicker and pull your desk chair into the bathroom. “Now you know exactly how I feel every time I beg you to do mine when I’m drunk. Sit and close your eyes, please.” 

He follows your instructions and leans his back against the furniture. Sunghoon doesn’t fuss when you pin his hair back until it’s secure and allows you to make him feel pampered in a way he typically wouldn’t. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

Sunghoon hums. “Yeah, I did. The guys picked me up from my place and we had lunch at that seafood spot we’ve been meaning to try.” 

“Was it any good?”

“So good.” He licks his lips. “God, I’m still thinking about that shellfish soup. We ordered enough food to feed a village but it was so worth it. I wanna go with you.” 

“We can go wherever you want.” He smiles at your soft tone. 

“We also went to the beach and met some guys at the skate park by the highway. They were pretty nice and let us use their boards for a little. Heeseung got along with them the best, I think.”

“Heeseung makes friends with everybody.”

“He says he’s not social but that’s a lie.” Sunghoon twitches his nose when he feels a damp washcloth on his face. “We went to the bar afterwards and split it by round. I got the first and honestly, I don’t remember much after that.” 

“How are you feeling now, though?” you ask as you finish patting his skin dry. “Do you still feel dizzy?” Sunghoon opens his eyes and watches you apply a serum before dabbing it all over his face. 

“Not as much as before. I think I’m just tired.”

“And clingy, apparently.” 

Sunghoon smacks the back of your thighs. “Shut up. You love it.” You silence him by kissing his nose. 

While he brushes his teeth, you situate yourself underneath your plush covers and allow the weight of the blanket to fall on top of you. The sweet promise of a good night’s rest feels imminent, especially when you see your boyfriend emerge from the bathroom. He turns off the light and walks towards the empty side of the bed before he’s slipping himself beside you. 

Sunghoon’s an equal opportunist when it comes to sleeping positions. He loves it the most when your head is on his chest and when your arms are tangled in one another because he likes knowing that the two of you yearn for each other equally. But when he gets like this, Sunghoon takes initiative to maneuver himself until half of his chest and head are on top of you. He situates his arm around your waist and pulls himself closer to your body until a deep, satisfied sigh comes from the back of his throat. 

He hums in appreciation when your fingers begin to massage his scalp. Sunghoon’s hair is soft and silky and on most days, you’re the only person who gets to touch it. The slowness of your movements paired with the soft kiss you place on his temple makes his eyelids feel heavy. 

“Sorry you had to come pick me up,” Sunghoon mumbles against you. “I know we agreed to give each other some space this weekend.” 

“You should know by now that I’d do anything for you.” He feels you kiss the crown of his head. “Plus, we both know you’d do the same for me.” 

Sunghoon nods. “I would. You’re my girlfriend. Duh.” His sleepy nonsense makes you laugh. 

“You can go back to hanging out with the guys tomorrow if you want.” He shakes his head. 

“I want to get breakfast with you.” Sunghoon finds your free hand and presses a sleepy kiss to the back of it. 

“Whatever you want. We can get breakfast.” 

“If we wake up early enough.” 

You laugh again. “Yes, if we wake up early enough.” 

Sunghoon mumbles a few incoherent words that you can’t quite make out because of your own tiredness. When your own eyes start to droop, Sunghoon feels your fingers start to falter and looks up at you to see you’ve fallen fast asleep. 

He kisses the underside of your chin and falls asleep too.

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

fatal trouble

pairing: vampire!sunghoon x reader

synopsis: your roommate is hot. really really hot. and odd too. really really odd. after a strange experience with him, you slowly start distancing yourself from him. but, it becomes exceptionally hard with your feelings coming in the way. how are you supposed to protect yourself if you can’t resist him? the answer is you don’t need to. your fates are intertwined and there's no letting go.

genre: roommates to lovers, vampire au, soulmate au

warnings: suggestive content, mentions of nightmares and blood, jealous!sunghoon, 

note: dropping this before i go on hiatus for a month due to school work. i haven't proofread it that well i hope there are no mistakes. also im obsessed with vampire aus, enhablr needs more of them fr!! i hope you enjoy reading this!

word count: 6k

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

the soft glow of your laptop screen illuminated your face, casting long shadows across sunghoon's pristine white sheets. you were sprawled out on his bed, legs crossed beneath you, surrounded by a chaotic scatter of textbooks and papers. the quiet hum of the air conditioner filled the room, broken only by the intermittent clicks of your keyboard.

sunghoon sat at his desk, a silhouette against the darkened room, save for the focused beam of his desk lamp. his fingers danced across the keyboard with an almost rhythmic precision, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in his dark eyes. you’d grown accustomed to the sight of him engrossed in his work, a solitary figure lost in the world of ones and zeros.

you’d known each other for a few months now, the kind of acquaintance born out of shared living space and the occasional group project. as roommates sharing the same major, your apartment had become a de facto study hub. computer science had thrown you together more often than not, and tonight was no exception. 

“hey, did you get the part about the algorithm?” your voice, a whisper in the quiet, cut through the comfortable silence.

sunghoon glanced up, his eyes a deep, almost unnatural shade of red in the dim light. for a moment, you were struck by how different he looked compared to the daylight. “yeah, i think so. isn’t it something about minimising the time complexity?”

you nodded, your eyes scanning the code on your screen. “exactly. i’m just having trouble with the implementation.”

a comfortable silence settled over the room as you both focused on your respective screens. the only sound was the rhythmic tapping of keys and the occasional sigh of frustration. you glanced up at sunghoon, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of his monitor. his long, slender fingers moved with an almost hypnotic grace across the keyboard.

there was something undeniably attractive about his focused intensity. his features, normally sharp and aloof, softened slightly when he was engrossed in his work. it was a side of him you rarely saw, and it was oddly captivating.

you shook your head, mentally scolding yourself for such thoughts. he was your roommate, nothing more. and besides, there was no way he could be interested in someone like you.

“hey,” sunghoon’s voice cut through your reverie, “i think i figured it out.”

you blinked, startled. “oh, really? want to explain it?”

he nodded, sliding his chair back and standing up. he walked over to your side of the bed, his tall frame looming over you. as he leaned in to point at your screen, his scent washed over you – a subtle blend of wood and something else, almost sweet, that you couldn’t quite place.

you felt a strange warmth creeping up your neck as he hovered over you. his proximity was unnerving, yet strangely intoxicating. you swallowed hard, trying to focus on the code in front of you.

sunghoon's breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble, "try this." his finger hovered over your keyboard, about to demonstrate.

you felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cool night air but from the inexplicable sensation of being so close to him. his scent, a mix of something woodsy and faintly sweet, was intoxicating. you tried to focus on the code, to ignore the way your heart was pounding in your chest.

he typed a few lines, his fingers brushing against yours. the contact sent a jolt of electricity through you. you forced yourself to concentrate on the screen, trying to understand the changes he made.

"see?" he said, straightening up. "it's simpler this way."

you nodded, still reeling from the physical contact. "thanks," you managed to say, your voice barely a whisper.

sunghoon stepped back, a small smile playing on his lips. "no problem," he said, turning back to his own computer.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. it was just sunghoon, your roommate. nothing more. but the way he had acted, the way he had touched you, it was making it hard to think of him that way.

the room was quiet again, the only sounds the soft clacking of keyboards and the occasional rustle of paper. you were deep in thought, trying to wrap your head around a particularly complex problem when a question popped into your head. on impulse, you asked, “so, sunghoon, what do you do in your free time, when you’re not, you know, studying?”

sunghoon paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. a flicker of something, perhaps surprise or amusement, passed across his face before he responded smoothly, “free time is a luxury for a computer science student, don’t you think? but when i do find a spare moment, i usually spend it reading or exploring new coding languages.”

his answer was polite, but it felt rehearsed, as if he'd prepared a response for just such a question. a sense of curiosity sparked within you. you’d always thought sunghoon was a bit of an enigma, but this was a new level of intrigue.

curiosity, a persistent itch, prodded you to ask something more than just about schoolwork.

“hey, i was curious about this” you started, your voice barely audible over the hum of the air conditioner, “where are you from?” it was a simple question, one you would normally ask any new acquaintance, but there was something about sunghoon that made you curious about his past.

he paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. for a moment, there was a stillness in the room that was almost palpable. then, with a casual shrug, he replied, "oh, just a small town. nothing interesting." the response was swift, deflecting your question with ease.

confused, you returned to your code, but your mind was racing. there was something off about sunghoon, something that had intrigued you from the moment you met him. you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there were strange little details that had started to accumulate.

there were those odd instances – like the time you'd woken up in the middle of the night to find the kitchen light on and sunghoon standing at the counter, completely motionless, his eyes glowing an eerie red. or the way he seemed to have an uncanny ability to appear and disappear without a sound. and then there was the peculiar lack of a reflection in any mirror in his room.

these memories surfaced, sharp and clear, as if your brain was piecing together a puzzle it didn't know existed. you shook your head, dismissing the thoughts as overactive imagination. after all, sunghoon was just your roommate, a fellow computer science student. nothing more, nothing less.

a yawn escaped your lips as you stretched, the late hour finally catching up with you. “i think i’m going to call it a night,” you announced, rubbing your eyes. the weight of the unanswered questions about sunghoon was beginning to feel heavy.

sunghoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the computer screen. “alright, good night then. i’ll probably stay up a bit longer.”

you nodded in response, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. as you stood up, you glanced down at the floor. something was off. the soft glow from sunghoon’s computer cast long shadows on the floor, including a distinct one from his chair. but there was no shadow of sunghoon himself. the spot where his shadow should have been was empty, an inky void against the illuminated floor.

a chill ran down your spine. your heart pounded in your ears. your mind raced, trying to come up with a logical explanation, but nothing made sense. you snatched up your bag, your movements jerky and panicked. without a second thought, you fled back to your room, the door slamming shut behind you. you fumbled with the lock, your hands trembling. only when you heard the satisfying click of the lock did you allow yourself to breathe.

your heart pounded in your ears as you leaned against the cool metal of your door. the realisation of what you had seen was slowly sinking in. no human lacked a shadow. it was impossible. a chill ran down your spine.

you tried to rationalise it away. maybe there was a draft, or a trick of the light. but deep down, you knew better. something was profoundly wrong, and it was connected to sunghoon. the friendly, quiet roommate you thought you knew was now shrouded in an unsettling mystery.

you glanced at the clock. it was late, and exhaustion was starting to creep in. you needed to sleep, to clear your head. but how could you sleep with this looming over you? you decided to distract yourself by pulling out a book from your shelf, hoping the words would drown out the unsettling thoughts.

as you turned the pages, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon. his unusual behaviour, the absence of his shadow, it all fit together into a terrifying puzzle. you tried to shake off the feeling, but it was like a persistent itch you couldn't scratch.

sleep finally claimed you, but it was restless. your dreams were filled with shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. you woke up with a start, your heart racing. the first light of dawn was filtering through your curtains. you got out of bed and went to the window. the world outside looked ordinary, peaceful. but you knew the truth was far from it.

something was wrong with sunghoon, and you were determined to find out what.

the days following your unsettling discovery were a blur of forced normalcy. you tried to interact with sunghoon as if nothing was amiss, but the weight of your knowledge cast a long shadow over your interactions. you found yourself avoiding his gaze, your voice trembling when you spoke to him.

sunghoon seemed oblivious to your discomfort at first. he’d always been a quiet person, so his reserved nature didn’t raise any immediate suspicion. however, as the days turned into weeks, his patience began to wear thin.

"hey, are you free to study together tomorrow?" he asked one evening as you were both making dinner. his tone was casual, but you could detect a hint of underlying disappointment.

your heart skipped a beat. you’d been avoiding his study invitations, coming up with increasingly elaborate excuses. the truth hung heavy in the air, a tangible thing between you. you hesitated, your mind racing.

"i... i’m really busy tomorrow," you stammered, your voice barely audible. "maybe next week?"

disappointment flashed across sunghoon’s face before he masked it with a forced smile. "sure, no problem," he replied, his voice flat.

as he turned away, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt. you'd hurt him, and you knew it.

the night was a descent into terror. you dreamt of shadows, long and menacing, closing in on you. sunghoon was there, but not as you knew him. his eyes burned with an unnatural light, and his form was distorted, monstrous. you were running, but your legs were leaden, and the shadows were gaining on you. a scream built in your throat, but no sound escaped.

you woke with a start, drenched in sweat. your heart pounded like a drumbeat in your chest. panic washed over you as you gasped for air. you were disoriented, unsure of where you were. a noise from the living room startled you, and you jumped out of bed.

the light was on, and there, standing in the doorway, was sunghoon, his face etched with concern. before you could react, you found yourself lunging at him, your hands grasping at his neck. he didn't fight back, instead, he held you tightly, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

your sobs racked your body as you clung to him, finding solace in his warmth. he shushed you softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. gradually, your breathing began to slow, and your body relaxed.

when you finally calmed down, sunghoon gently guided you back to bed. he sat on the edge, running a comforting hand through your hair. you clung to him, your fear slowly dissipating.

in the quiet that followed, you felt a strange urge to confide in him. your voice was barely a whisper when you began, "i dreamt of you... as something... different."

sunghoon stiffened, but his grip on you didn't loosen. something flashed behind his eyes, but he listened intently as you recounted the terrifying details of your nightmare. when you finished, he was silent for a long moment. finally, he whispered, "go back to sleep," and you felt him lean down to kiss your forehead.

with that, he quietly left the room, leaving you alone with your racing thoughts.

the days that followed were a careful ballet of avoidance. you moved through your days with a practised detachment, constructing an invisible wall between yourself and sunghoon. the weight of your decision pressed down on you like a physical burden. despite the burgeoning crush that had blossomed in the quiet corners of your heart, you'd created a formidable wall between yourself and sunghoon. his enigmatic nature, coupled with the unsettling discoveries you'd made, had convinced you to keep him at arm's length. it was a lonely existence, a self-imposed exile that offered a semblance of safety.

your days were a monotonous cycle of lectures, assignments, and solitary meals. you'd found solace in the company of your classmate, lee heeseung, his cheerful demeanour a stark contrast to the storm raging within you. yet, even as you laughed and shared stories with him, a part of you longed for the quiet intensity of sunghoon's presence.

in the vast, impersonal lecture hall, you’d sought refuge in the anonymity of the crowd. but even here, you couldn't escape the weight of your decision. a persistent sense of being watched gnawed at you, a constant reminder of the eyes that followed your every move. and you knew very well who it was. it was during one such lecture that the tension reached a breaking point.

you were engrossed in your notes when a subtle shift in the atmosphere caught your attention. a cold prickle ran down your spine as you slowly turned your head. there, in the row behind you, sat sunghoon, his gaze fixed intently on you. his expression was a complex interplay of emotions - longing, pain, and a flicker of something darker.

your heart pounded in your chest as a wave of guilt washed over you. you'd hurt him, pushed him away without a second thought. in that moment, as his eyes held yours, you realised the depth of your own cowardice.

not to mention, with each passing night your nightmares had intensified. each night a descent into a darker, more terrifying realm. sleep, once a refuge, had transformed into a battlefield, leaving you exhausted and on edge. the physical toll was evident - dark circles shadowed your eyes, and your skin had started to take on a sickly pallor.

despite your deteriorating condition, you continued to maintain your distance from sunghoon. guilt gnawed at you, but fear held you captive. yet, in the aftermath of each nightmare, you found yourself seeking solace in his presence. he’d sit by your bed his silent vigil a comforting anchor in the storm of your nightmares. his touch, gentle and reassuring, had become a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink of despair.

one particularly harrowing night, you woke up screaming, your body drenched in sweat. sunghoon was by your side almost instantly, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace. as your fear subsided, you began to recount the nightmare, your voice trembling.

"i... i dreamt of a place," you managed to say, your words halting. "a dark place, with... with strange symbols."

sunghoon's grip tightened around you. "and you were alone," he finished for you, his voice low and soothing.

your eyes widened in shock. how could he know what you had dreamt about? you hadn’t even managed to complete your story. yet, sunghoon had described it perfectly, as if he had been there with you.

a chill ran down your spine. you pulled away from him, your eyes filled with fear and confusion. sunghoon simply looked at you, his expression unreadable, before turning and leaving the room.

what did this mean? how could sunghoon know about your nightmares? the answers were as elusive as ever, but one thing was certain: the line between the ordinary and the extraordinary was blurring, and you were caught in the crossfire.

the nightmares ceased as abruptly as they had begun. you woke each morning feeling refreshed, the spectre of terror finally lifted from your shoulders. a sense of relief washed over you, but it was tinged with a strange melancholy. the nightly visits from sunghoon, a comforting ritual amidst the chaos, were now absent.

initially, you welcomed the return to normalcy. the constant fear and exhaustion had taken a toll on you, and the ability to sleep soundly was a precious gift. but as days turned into weeks, a nagging sense of unease crept in. sunghoon's absence, once a welcome respite, now felt like a void.

you started noticing subtle changes in him. his eyes, once bright and alert, were now shadowed by dark circles. his once sharp features seemed softened by fatigue. it was as if a weight was pressing down on him, a burden he carried alone.

a pang of guilt struck you. perhaps your avoidance had contributed to his deteriorating condition. you wanted to reach out, to offer support, but fear held you back. what if your presence only made things worse? what if you discovered something terrifying?

you longed to reach out to him, to offer solace and support, but the words remained trapped in your throat. the fear of rejection, of further pushing him away, paralyzed you. it was a cruel irony that the person you yearned to comfort was the one causing you the most pain. 

the afternoon sun beat down on the bustling campus as you made your way towards the nearest convenience store. the promise of a refreshing popsicle was the only thing that could lure you away from the confines of your dorm room. with a popsicle clutched in your hand, you emerged from the store, ready to face the world, one frozen treat at a time.

just as you were about to savour the first bite, heeseung materialised beside you, his infectious grin lighting up his face. "arcade?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. you nodded, the prospect of a distraction proving too tempting to resist.

you split the popsicle down the middle, the sweet, icy treat a welcome respite from the oppressive heat. as you handed one half to heeseung, a strange sensation washed over you. it was as if a cold draft had swept across your skin, a shiver that had nothing to do with the melting popsicle in your hand.

instinctively, you turned around, your heart pounding in your chest. there, on the other side of the road, stood sunghoon, his figure cast in the harsh sunlight. his eyes, usually guarded, were fixed on you with an intensity that bordered on hostility. a scowl marred his usually indifferent features, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

you offered a timid smile, a feeble attempt to bridge the chasm between you. but his gaze remained unwavering, cold and unforgiving. with a final, contemptuous glance, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

a wave of guilt and confusion washed over you. you'd hurt him, you knew that. but the intensity of his reaction was unexpected, almost frightening. as you turned back to heeseung, you forced a smile, determined to push the unsettling encounter to the back of your mind.

the encounter with sunghoon left a bitter taste in your mouth. his hostile glare had shattered the fragile peace you'd been cultivating. as you and heeseung made your way to the arcade, your mind raced, trying to decipher the meaning behind sunghoon's outburst. had your avoidance pushed him to the brink? or was there something more sinister at play?

the arcade, with its flashing lights and the cacophony of sound, offered a temporary escape from the turmoil within. you lost yourself in the rhythm of the games, the competitive spirit temporarily drowning out the unsettling incident. yet, even as you laughed and cheered with heeseung, your mind kept drifting back to sunghoon, his angry gaze burning into your memory.

as the afternoon wore on, a sense of unease settled over you. the carefree atmosphere of the arcade couldn't mask the growing storm within. the incident with sunghoon had opened a wound, a raw and painful reminder of the complex dynamics between you.

you glanced at heeseung, his laughter infectious, and felt a pang of guilt. he was doing everything to lift your spirits, to distract you from your troubles. but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in a labyrinth of doubt and fear.

the walk back to your dorm was a solitary affair. the campus, usually bustling with activity, seemed deserted. with each step, the weight of your worries grew heavier. the encounter with sunghoon had forced you to confront the reality of the situation. you couldn't continue to bury your head in the sand, hoping that the problem would resolve itself.

the weight of the day pressed down on you as you unlocked the apartment door. exhaustion tugged at your limbs, but the lingering unease from your encounter with sunghoon kept your mind racing. 

as you stepped into the living room, a jolt of surprise ran through you. sunghoon was standing in the kitchen, his silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the refrigerator.

there was an unnatural stillness to him, a predatory calm that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes, when they met yours, held a strange intensity, a glint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface. "fancy seeing you here," he said, his voice low and measured.

you forced a smile, your heart pounding in your chest. "just got back," you replied, your voice barely a whisper.

he approached you slowly, his steps deliberate. "we have that new assignment," he began, his voice low and seductive. "maybe we could work on it together tomorrow?"

your mind raced, trying to come up with an excuse. "i'm... i'm pretty busy," you stammered, avoiding his gaze.

sunghoon's expression darkened. with a swift movement, he closed the distance between you, cornering you against the kitchen counter, his hands grabbing your hips. his proximity was unnerving, his scent, a mix of wood and something faintly sweet, filling your senses. you could feel his breath on your skin, hot and heavy. 

"don't lie to me," he hissed, his voice low and menacing. "i know what's going on."

his grip tightened around you, and you winced. 

"it's nothing," you insisted, your voice trembling. "just... busy."

"busy with heeseung?" he spat out, his jealousy evident in his tone. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the anger simmering beneath the surface.

your face flushed with embarrassment. he was taking this the wrong way. “it’s not like that,” you stammered, your voice barely a whisper.

sunghoon's grip tightened, pinning you against the cool surface of the counter. his breath was warm against your skin, and a strange sensation, a mix of fear and excitement, coursed through your veins.

“don’t lie to me,” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “you're avoiding me.”

you didn't know why, but the power dynamic between you and sunghoon was intoxicating. he had never behaved this way before let alone showcase jealousy so blatantly. it was hot. you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. 

before you could respond, you found yourself leaning in, your lips brushing against his. it was an impulsive act, a desperate attempt to silence him, to end the confrontation. but, to your surprise, he responded, his lips moving against yours with a gentle intensity.

the world seemed to slow down as the kiss deepened. but as quickly as it had begun, it ended. you pulled away, your heart pounding in your chest.

overwhelmed by a rush of emotions, you turned and fled to your room, slamming the door behind you. you leaned against the door, panting, your mind racing. 

the realisation of what you had done hit you like a tidal wave. you had kissed your roommate, a person you were actively avoiding due to a growing sense of fear and unease. the implications of your actions were terrifying. you'd crossed a line, a boundary you had carefully constructed to protect yourself.

a series of frantic knocks on the door jolted you out of your stupor. it was sunghoon, his voice muffled through the wood. "open up, please," he pleaded. your heart pounded in your chest. you couldn't face him now. you needed time to process what had happened, to regain control of the situation.

the knocking continued for a few minutes before finally ceasing. silence enveloped the room, heavy and oppressive. you slid down the door, your body trembling. what had you done?

morning arrived with a sense of foreboding. the thought of facing sunghoon filled you with dread, but the need to uncover the truth was stronger. you waited until the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, a sign that he had left for his morning jog.

with a deep breath, you crept into sunghoon's room, a sense of trepidation gnawing at you. the room was immaculate, a stark contrast to the chaos that often reigned in your own space. everything had its place, every surface spotless. there were no hidden compartments, no secret drawers, no clues to the enigmatic man who inhabited this space.

disappointment washed over you. you'd hoped to find something, anything that would explain the strange occurrences, the unsettling behaviour. but the room held no secrets, only a sense of emptiness.

your eyes scanned the room, searching for any hidden compartments or secret passages. everything seemed ordinary, almost mundane. disappointment was beginning to creep in when your gaze fell on a small cabinet tucked beneath sunghoon's desk. it was always locked, a tantalising enigma that had piqued your curiosity countless times.

today, however, there was a change. a key was lodged in the lock, an open invitation to delve into the forbidden. a wave of hesitation washed over you. you were invading his privacy, crossing a line you had sworn never to cross. but the allure of the unknown was too strong. curiosity, like a relentless tide, pulled you forward.

with trembling hands, you grasped the key and turned it. the lock clicked open with a satisfyingly smooth sound. you slid open the cabinet door, your heart pounding in your chest. a mini-fridge, small and unassuming, greeted you. a wave of relief washed over you. so this was the secret? a hidden stash of snacks?

you reached out to open the fridge door, a smirk playing on your lips. but as the cool air enveloped you, your blood ran cold.

inside, lined up neatly on the shelves, were rows of blood bags. the crimson liquid glinted in the dim light, a chilling contrast to the sterile white plastic. the sight was so surreal, so utterly horrifying, that for a moment, you thought you were hallucinating.

your mind went blank. a wave of nausea washed over you as you stared at the horrifying contents of the fridge. this couldn't be real. this was a nightmare, a twisted hallucination. but the cold, hard truth stared back at you, undeniable and terrifying.

the world tilted as your legs gave way, sending you crashing to the knees. blood bags. sunghoon kept blood bags. your roommate, the seemingly normal guy you knew, was a… vampire? the very concept seemed absurd, ripped from the pages of a fantasy novel. yet, the evidence sat before you, a stark reality that defied logic.

panic clawed at your throat, but a desperate hope flickered within you. maybe it was a medical condition. maybe he had a strange blood fetish. anything but a vampire!

"vampires don't exist, do they?", you mutter to yourself still in shock.

"yes, they do," a low voice confirmed, sending a tremor through your entire body. you spun around, scream caught in your throat. sunghoon stood in the doorway, his face unreadable, his eyes a bottomless well of emotions.

shame washed over you in a tidal wave. you felt exposed, not just for snooping, but for the fear and disgust that clouded your mind.

jumping out the window, a ridiculous notion moments ago, now seemed like the only way out. here, trapped in this surreal nightmare, your only escape seemed to be a dramatic leap from the fourth floor. it wouldn't kill you, right? you’d only break a few bones at best, which you were absolutely okay with. 

with a burst of adrenaline, you scrambled to your feet and bolted towards the window, desperation fueling your actions. but before you could reach the latch, a hand clamped around your waist, pulling you back with an iron grip. "don't even think about it," sunghoon's voice was a low growl, the air crackling with unspoken emotions.

you were pinned against his chest, his warmth a stark contrast to the chilling terror that gripped you. his eyes, no longer cold and distant, burned with a mix of anger and concern.

his words hung in the air, a stark contrast to the wildness of your actions. you struggled against his hold, your fear fueling your resistance. but there was an undeniable strength in him, a power that held you captive.

"please, let me go," you gasped, your voice trembling.

sunghoon's grip loosened slightly, and he took a step back. his eyes held a mixture of concern and something else, something you couldn't quite decipher. "i won't hurt you," he said, his voice soft. "i need to explain."

your eyes met his, a mixture of fear and confusion swirling in their depths. sunghoon seemed to read your mind, his expression softening as he took a step closer. he sighed, a heavy exhale that seemed to carry the weight of centuries.

"i know this is a lot to take in," he began, his voice low and steady. "but i need you to trust me."

you nodded, your mind racing. there was something about his tone, a vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior, that compelled you to listen.

"i'm a vampire," he said, the words hanging heavy in the air. "it's not how i wanted things to be, but it's the reality i've been forced to live with."

he paused, his eyes searching your face for any signs of revulsion. but to your surprise, a strange sense of calm washed over you. this was the answer, the missing piece to the puzzle.

he went on to explain his existence, the centuries of solitude, and the desperate hope that had brought him to you. he talked about the blood bags, a necessary evil to sustain his life.

he continued, his voice laced with a hint of vulnerability. "i’ve been alone for so long. i've tried to live a normal life, to blend in. and then i met you."

his gaze softened, a tender look replacing the earlier intensity. "you're my anchor, my reason to keep going. your nightmares, the ones you've been having, are a connection between us. we share them, a soulmate bond, if you will. it's the only way for me to experience human emotions, to feel truly alive."

the revelation was mind-boggling. a vampire? your soulmate? it was a story straight out of a gothic novel. yet, as he spoke, a sense of peace washed over you. there was a truth in his eyes, a vulnerability that resonated with your own.

without thinking, you reached out and hugged him. your arms wrapped around him, offering comfort and acceptance. he froze, surprised by your sudden embrace.

"i don't care," you whispered, your voice muffled against his chest. "i'll figure it out. we'll figure it out together."

he returned the hug, his arms tightening around you. his face was buried in your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against your chest, a rhythm that mirrored your own. in that moment, surrounded by the warmth of his embrace, fear and confusion faded, replaced by a sense of hope and possibility.

"i'm so sorry about the nightmares," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "i stopped sleeping for a while, trying to find a way to stop them. i hated seeing you scared, all because of me."

your heart ached for him. he had sacrificed his own well-being to protect you. anger and concern warred within you. how could he be so selfless, so reckless? you pushed against his chest, needing to see his face, to read the emotions swirling in his eyes.

"don't be stupid," you scolded, your voice stern. "you can't just stop sleeping."

you gently pushed against his chest, trying to create some distance between you. you needed to see his face, to gauge his sincerity.

"stop," he whined, his voice laced with playful annoyance. "just stay like this for a little longer."

his words were a stark contrast to the seriousness of the situation, but they had the desired effect. you froze, your body responding to the unexpected shift in tone. sunghoon's grip tightened around you, his face buried in the crook of your neck. his lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers down your spine. the warmth of his breath mingled with the scent of his skin, creating an intoxicating blend that clouded your senses.

you were caught in a whirlwind of emotions, fear and confusion replaced by a growing sense of intimacy. the line between platonic comfort and something more was blurring, and you were dangerously close to crossing it.

his voice dropped to a low octave, a husky rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "i can't stop thinking about how your lips felt against mine last night," he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. he pulled back, his eyes holding yours, a mischievous glint in their depths. 

"can we do that again?" he asked, his voice laced with playful arrogance.

before you could respond, his lips were on yours, claiming your mouth with a fierce urgency. the kiss was a whirlwind, a tempest of emotions and sensations. his tongue explored your mouth, demanding entrance, while your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. the kiss was different from the one you had shared the night before, filled with a newfound urgency and intensity. his tongue explored your mouth, a dance of desire and longing. you could feel the heat radiating from his body, a warmth that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer. with a swift movement, he lifted you onto the bed, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. he nuzzled your skin, his breath creating a tingling sensation. "you smell so good," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "i had to stop myself from pouncing on you the first time i saw you." 

"from now on, you're sleeping in my bed," he declared, his voice firm. "i need to make sure those nightmares don't come back. and besides, i like having you close."

as he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, you felt a sense of peace wash over you. in this moment, with sunghoon holding you close, everything else seemed to fade away. the line between reality and fantasy blurred, replaced by a single, undeniable truth: you were in the arms of a vampire, and you were dangerously close to falling in love.

his lips trailed down your neck, with such heat that it left you breathless. he nibbled at your skin, his teeth gently scraping against your sensitive flesh. the sensation was both painful and exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and desire. you gasped, your body arching involuntarily. 

"i'm not going to bite you," he promised, his voice laced with a hint of mischief. 

"not yet, at least."

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

⌒⌒﹕love, again.

( EN- ) jake x fem reader

playlist ;; orange flower // tfw // highway 1009

admin notes at the bottom

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶⠀୨୧⠀︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶︶

“Fuck. We’re all out of gas.” Jake muttered under his breath, trying to start the engine up again. Sunoo walked over to him, a worried look on his face. “What’s wrong?” Jake looked up at Sunoo, sweat dripping off his forehead. “Out of gas. ”He stood up and walked past Sunoo to the sofas in the camper, taking a seat next to Jungwon, who was chatting away to y/n. Y/n noticed Jake’s presence and smiled at him. “Are you okay? You’re sweating like crazy.” Jake sighed and wiped the sweat off his face. “I'm fine.” He reached for the water bottle Jungwon was holding and chugged it down like there was no tomorrow. “I’m gonna go shower.” He said, standing up and heading for the back of the van, leaving Y/n and Jungwon to talk once again.

── .✦

The four of them gathered around the small dining table, chatting about the day and trying to keep a positive spirit since the van ran out of gas. Sunoo checked his phone from time to time to check for reception, but there was no sign of anything. “Let’s play something,” Jungwon suggested. “It’s so boring, with nothing to do and nowhere to go. My phone’s dead, and even if I charge it there won’t be any reception. The car’s basically dead too, so we won’t be able to drive anywhere either.” Y/n smiled. “Sure,” she said. “That sounds fun. What should we play?” “Ooh!” Sunoo piped up, his face lighting up. “Let’s spill secrets!” Jake looked at him, flabbergasted. “Hell no! That’s too risky for all of us, and you know that. How about a classic game of truth or dare? And if you back out of the question, you have to take a sip of your drink.” Jungwon looked at Jake, slightly side-eyeing him. “Seriously, you want to get us all drunk again?”Jake laughed. “C’mon, Jungwonnie. It will be fun! Just let loose a bit won't you?” Y/n smiled. “Alright,” her gaze flickering to each of her friends one by one, however lingering on Jake for a bit longer than it should have. “That would be nice.”

── .✦.

Time: 1:00 AM. The camper’s lights were still on, the four friends drunk and laughing about almost everything each other said.”Okay.. My turn to ask someone!” Sunoo said, slurring his words slightly as he spoke. “Y/n! T..Truth or dare!!” Y/n, who stayed sane and sober throughout the whole game until recently, hesitated for an unusually long time at Sunoo’s question. “Um.. dare?” She had picked truth for the entire game, and having nothing to hide answered all the questions in an instant.Sunoo laughed after hearing Y/n pick dare; this gave him a chance to mess up her perfect streak of well—staying sane.”Hah… I.. I dare you to..uh, kiss the person on your right!” Y/n stared at him, not believing what he had just said. “Um. what? No! I’m backing out.” She reached for her cup in front of her, only to see that it was empty. She reached for the bottle for liquor, only to find that empty too. Damn it, she had to do it now. There was no chance of her backing out now.

She looked to her right, and there sat a red-faced, beaming and drunk Jake.Y/n shifted her chair closer to him, grasping his face once he was in her reach. She then moved away suddenly, hesitation taking over her. “Ugh… come on, y/n,” she told herself. “They’re all drunk. It’s fine.” She leaned back in and touched her lips to his. It wasn’t perfect and it wasn’t anything she’d expected either. Y/n had always taken a liking towards Jake; however she never expected herself to even be this close to him, let alone kiss him. Y/n pulled away awkwardly, immediately turning away and shifting her chair back to its original position. “Okay,” she looked around the table. “My turn.” She pointed at Jungwon. “Jungwon! I dare you to uh.. Stand outside for five minutes!” Jungwon, who was also red-faced, looked at Y/n, a giddy look on his face. “Uhm.. sure..”

── .✦

Time: 2:30 AM. Everyone left to go sleep, y/n to her room, and everyone else to theirs. Y/n tossed and turned in her bed, unable to fall asleep. “Aurgh.. Fuck. My head hurts..” She stood up, throwing her blanket onto the floor. She walked over to her desk and picked up her ipod. People rarely used ipods these days,but y/n still liked it because she could download anything she wanted on it, and it didn't require wifi. She plugged her earbuds in and clicked on her playlist. As the music started to play, y/n sat there and gathered all her thoughts. She thought about how they were going to get out of the forest, how Sunoo, Jungwon and Jake were managing to sleep, and how she was going to manage to study once she got back home. She thought about her parents, her siblings, about life, school, and everything else. Once the song ended, y/n breathed out a sigh. She set her things back on her desk and walked back over to her bed, picked up her blanket and headed to sleep.

── .✦

The sun crept into the room, bathing y/n in golden glory. Her eyes slowly fluttered open, glancing at the clock on her bedside table as she woke up. Desperately needing the extra minutes, y/n pulled her blanket back over herself and went back to sleep.

Around an hour later, Y/n woke up and headed for the main area. When she stepped into the area, she was greeted by a smiling Sunoo, and Jungwon and Jake who were eating their breakfast. Y/n sat down at her seat, sandwiched between Jake and Jungwon. “Hi,” She said, grabbing a piece of toast. “Did you all sleep well?” “Yeah I did,” Sunoo said. “Not gonna lie, the alcohol kinda helped put me to sleep.” Jungwon smiled. “Me too.” Y/n looked over at Jake, who was munching away on a piece of bacon on toast, the sunlight rushing in through the windows and hitting him at just the right spot, making him look more dashing than he already was. Y/n caught herself staring for a little bit too long; she shook her head and turned her attention back to the plate in front of her. However, just as Y/n turned away, she caught Jake’s eye and he smiled. Shifting closer to y/n, he leaned his head in, lowering his voice into a whisper. “Lost in the moment, or were you purposely staring?” He moved away, shooting a wink towards y/n, leaving her stunned.

── .✦

Monday. Everyone’s most dreaded day of the week. Sunoo, Jungwon, Jake and y/n had finally managed to get back home after that road trip, and everything was back to normal. Sometimes, y/n found herself thinking about the events that happened on the weekend, in that camper van with her friends. How they laughed, how they tried new foods, and… Y/n let her thoughts stop there before she let herself think about him. About how she had always preferred him over her other friends. About how they'd always hang out during breaks. About how.. How she’d kissed him. It was just a dare, but it meant more to y/n than just a dare. She’d never thought that she’d be thinking about this; about how she could possibly have a slight crush on her best friend. That thought didn’t go too far before the bell rang, signalling that it was time for lunch.

Y/n sat at her usual table with her closest friends- Yuna, Chaewon, Sakura, Winter, Rei, and Gaeul. “Hey y/n,” Chaewon greeted her with a warm smile, passing y/n a slip of paper across the table. “This is for you, I spent all night last night writing it up. Happy birthday, bestie!” Y/n froze. How could she forget that today was her birthday? She smiled back at Chaewon, her face lighting up as she replied. “Thank you.” The table proceeded to talk about all sorts of different things; like how they were going to celebrate y/n’s birthday, the latest drama at school, teachers they hated, and everything else.

Just then, Sunoo’s voice came from the table next to them, calling y/n over. Y/n walked over to Sunoo’s table- consisting of Sunoo, Jungwon, Heeseung, Sunghoon, Jake, Jay and Ni-ki, and sat down, squashed between Sunoo and Jake. “What’s up?” Sunoo beamed at her, his smile lighting up the whole room. “Happy birthday, y/n.” Y/n returned his smile, laughing. “Thank you.” Jake placed his arm around y/n, hugging her with one arm. “Happy birthday to you. I couldn’t ask for a better best friend.”

── .✦

Sakura was the first to arrive at y/n’s house. Y/n had a lavish, large mansion that could fit the whole school if she wanted to. The moment Sakura saw y/n, she immediately rushed to her and gave her a big hug. “You look like a greek goddess,” she said, admiring y/n’s dress. “Awh, thank you! You look gorgeous yourself, Saku.” The two of them sat down on the sofa in the exquisitely decorated house, waiting for the others to arrive.

As the people started piling in, y/n was getting tired. She walked out to the patio, holding a cup of water. She was doing really well in regulating her drinking habits; she couldn’t let something like last time happen again. Suddenly, she heard a voice behind her, and she turned around to see Jake join her on the patio. “So,” he said, taking a seat next to her, “Sixteen, huh?” He smirked, making y/n smile. She hit his arm playfully, laughing as she did it. “Yeah. I guess I'm old now.” Jake laughed as well, matching her energy. “Yeah. guess you are.” Y/n took a sip from her cup, and stared at him, trying hard not to laugh. “You’re older though.” “Ugh, shut up.” Jake slapped her on the arm jokingly and the two of them stood up, looking out on the patio.

“You know,” Jake whispered, putting his arm around y/n’s shoulder, “I heard you talk that day.” Y/n turned to face him, confused. “What day?” Jake smirked. “Oh, you know, when you.. Kissed me.” Y/n felt her face heat up immediately, and she turned her head back around to try to hide it. “Oh.” Jake leaned in closer, his breath brushing against y/n’s skin. “I like you too, you idiot.” Y/n turned around to face him, shifting away. “How the fu- how did you even know I- Wha-? I haven’t even sorted anything out and you’re hitting me with this?” Jake laughed, sitting back down on the chair. “The truth is, I've always liked you. Since we were ten. I just never noticed it until now.” Y/n sat down next to him, taking one last sip from her cup. They sat there like that in silence for a while, but the silence wasn’t awkward. It had a sense of warmth, of understanding, and everything unspoken; things that couldn't be expressed in words, and everything in between. Y/n finally spoke up, breaking the silence. “I guess I could say the same for myself.” She turned her head to look at the dark brown-haired boy in front of her. “I’ve liked you too, Jake.”

“Since we were ten.”

── .✦

admin’s note. !!

for the Jake to my Sunghoon, christina. </3

please keep in mind that I have no experience at all in writing fics, and this is my first one. It’s not very good, but I will try to improve as time goes on and who knows, maybe I’ll do a rewrite. I spent quite a long time thinking of the plot, and when I did I decided to go for a classic friends-to-lovers trope.

to everyone who has read this, thank you.

— aeri xo