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sensitively-taken · 8 months

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what's with your kisses? — park sunghoon

synopsis. Park Sunghoon has never had much time or even a slight care for dating, romance, love, or anything of that sort. so, when you kiss him at a rowdy party one night, as his first kiss ever, he’s surprised to find that he wants more. what he thought was going to be a one-time thing, he finds evolving into something he never wants to end—even if you two aren’t meant to be more than a summer fling.

pairing. park sunghoon x gender-neutral!reader ft. jake sim

genres. fluff, strangers to lovers au, summer (fling) au

warnings. underage drinking & all that implies! please let me know if i've missed any :)

word count. 10.7k (10737)

taglist. @soobin-chois @my5colors @kflixnet @jaeyunverse @heejojo @tbzloonar @odxrilove @aizzon

listen to! strangers, sigrid ⭑ i'll be down, talia goddess ⭑ lovestained, hope tala ⭑ yuck, charli xcx ⭑ feature me, flo ⭑ summer's over, tv girl ft. jordana ⭑ yellow cab, dpr live (click on the listen to for the spotify playlist, which i recommend listening to unshuffled)

notes. ermmm..... after more than a year and (almost) radio silence on this blog, here she is!! i'm rlly sorry ab how long it took for me to post this (esp when it was sitting in my drafts for a whole year..) 😭😭 but SHE'S HERE and that's all that matters!! since this was originally an entry for @/prettywon's soul symphonies collab, this song is based on yellow cab by dpr live, as you can probably tell by the title & playlist. i was rlly trying to reflect that boyish infatuation he's singing ab so if u cringe a bit i understand 😪 i did too tysm lola @ijhyo for beta reading this for me! (pls pardon me for tagging u a few hours late 🙏🏾) but enough rambling from me!! enjoy! ❤️

I – K is for Kiss

There was no such thing as the perfect first kiss.

Park Sunghoon, a nineteen-year-old boy who’d never been kissed, had accepted this fact long ago. A lucky few got to have their first kiss with their first love or a longtime crush, while a lot more people had embarrassing stories they’d share on drunken nights. He knew a first kiss wasn’t something out of a fairytale. But, he felt that, at the very least, he should have an adequate first kiss–preferably with someone he had some sort of feelings for.

So, he’d never predicted that he’d end up losing his lip virginity to a stranger at the summer party his best friend, Jake, was throwing.

Or that he’d like it. (Sunghoon wasn’t sure he could even admit that.)

He could admit this though: you were a good kisser. A very, very good kisser–at least, according to his standards. Even he–the nineteen-year-old who’d never even held hands with someone, let alone kissed someone–was able to realise you’d done this a dozen times before when you cupped his cheek–not aggressively, but softly, gently–whispered the question in his ear, and pulled him into a chaste, soft kiss as soon as he’d nodded awkwardly.

Then, moving your hand from his cheek to his neck and smirking slightly, you deepened the kiss.

That’s when he started wondering why he’d never done this before.

You didn’t move too fast, or too slow. It was almost like you knew exactly what he was thinking, what he was feeling, because the second it would start feeling a bit too much for him and his head would start swimming, you would pull back and rest your forehead against his. But, when he started missing the feel of your lips on his, your eyes would flicker to his, the question on the tip of your tongue, and lean in again.

He would never say it out loud, not to you or anyone else, but he was glad you’d taken the lead. Because with the way his hands were trembling to wrap themselves around your waist, and how he’d avoid your gaze every time you pulled back, he wasn’t so sure you two would’ve even been here if you’d left the initiating to him.

All of a sudden, you pulled back–the first time you didn’t do what he wanted–and Sunghoon chased your lips for a bit, cheeks reddening when he realised you weren’t leaning back in.

He stepped back, which was hard to do in a cramped shed but he managed and cleared his throat. Suddenly, he was very interested in inspecting the design of said shed. “Um… is something wrong? Did I, I don’t know, did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you smiled coyly and licked your lips (Sunghoon’s eyes may have flickered back up in time to catch the moment and linger on it), “the seven minutes are up.”

Oh. Right. That–a very silly round of seven minutes in heaven–was how he’d got here. Stuck in a shed. Kissing a complete, random stranger. Y’know, the daily, run-of-the-mill stuff for Sunghoon.

He nodded slowly, flicking away the few dark hairs that fell in front of his eyes. “Right, right. After you.”

“After you?” You laughed, a warm sound he found himself melting to (on the inside. On the outside, he was biting his lip so hard he could taste your chapstick on his tongue), “This whole time you haven’t done anything, but now you want to be a gentleman?”

His face reddened and he crossed his arms over his chest. “No one said gentlemen have to be good at kissing!”

“You do have a point, kind sir.” He rolled his eyes at your jab. “I’d just think it’d be much more gentlemanly of you to look me in the eyes, instead of, dunno, glaring at my lips.”

At this rate, Sunghoon was sure someone’s face couldn’t be as red as his was.

He made a point to look into your eyes for a good ten seconds, breath held, before looking at his flip flops and murmuring, “I wasn’t glaring… I think. Like, I’m not mad at your lips or anything.”

You laughed again, a deeper sound he was sure came from the depths of your heart, and with a small grin on his face, Sunghoon decided he liked the sound.

“I wasn’t saying you were mad.” You stepped closer to him and Sunghoon’s breath hitched. You reached out to him, and for a second Sunghoon thought you were going to cup his face and kiss him again–he wanted you to–but then you reached up and smoothed his eyebrows and the space between them. “Just relax these big boys a bit. They can get a day off glaring, don’t you think, cutie?”

You didn’t wait for a reply. Instead, you smiled and reached behind Sunghoon for the shed door, stepping out to hear a chorus of cheers from some other partygoers and leaving the boy dumbfounded and red.

It was only when Sunghoon moved to leave the shed that he realised he’d never caught your name.

II – I is for Infatuation

Sunghoon was not thinking about the kiss. Well. Kisses.

At least, that was what he toldhimself.

But, ever since he’d woken up at Jake’s place the morning after, with a head so heavy he wasn’t sure he could even lift it, it was the only thing on his mind.

First thing in the morning, when he couldn’t even remember what his name was, he thought about it. Late at night, hours past when he’d told himself he’d go to sleep, he thought about it. Even in his dreams, he couldn’t get the thought of you and your stupid lips out of his head. (Jake had called him obsessed, but he preferred to think of it as a little infatuation.)

He was sure he was going insane when he saw someone perusing the chapstick section in the grocery store and immediately thought of you, only for him to find out it was you when your hands landed on the same pack.

Sunghoon drew his hand back like he was stung, while you simply took the balm and murmured an apology without sparing him a glance.

He wasn’t sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or disappointment. On one hand, it was you–the only person in the entire world who’d kissed Park Sunghoon on his very chapped, very dry lips (which was the reason he told himself he was in the lip balm section in the first place and not because he couldn’t get your lips out of his head). On the other hand, it was you–the only person in the entire world who’d kissed Park Sunghoon on his very chapped, very dry lips.

Sunghoon didn’t have much time to think about it though, because you suddenly looked back and raised your eyebrows at him.

He bit his lip in anticipation of what you were going to say, but he could’ve never imagined you’d say, “Nice jammies, cutie.”

Sunghoon was beginning to think you had a thing for embarrassing him, as his cheeks turned the shade of some of the chapsticks on display. He rubbed at the nape of his neck, murmuring, “Thanks, my grandma crocheted them for me.”

“Really?” Your eyes shone with actual interest, and Sunghoon’s blush spread across his cheeks. “Do you think you could send me her number or something? I’ve been trying to get the hang of crocheting recently, but it’s just not been working.”

“I would, totally, a hundred percent, but I don’t have your number yet, so…” He went silent, as he realised what he’d said and your eyebrows climbed further up your head.

Sunghoon wished the ground would open up. Pronto.

“Wow, cutie, I have to say, I’m kinda impressed.” You stretched out your hand, which made Sunghoon’s brows furrow, until you gestured for the phone in his pyjama pocket. “I never thought you’d be the type of gentleman to muster up the balls to ask for my number, but here we are.”

He groaned as he passed you his phone, a slight flush to his face. “Could we not rehash the whole gentleman bit? That was kinda embarrassing for me.”

“What?” You grinned, eyes flickering between his phone screen and him. “Do you mean the part where you didn’t know how to kiss back or the part where you stared at my lips the whole time after, cutie?”

If Sunghoon wasn’t sure before, he definitely was now. You had a thing for embarrassing him–and calling him cutie. He’d never admit it, but he was finding that he didn’t really seem to mind either.

He avoided your gaze and toyed with the hem of his sweater, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Um, both?”

“’ Kay, got it.” You passed his phone back to him and watched him redden at what you’d saved yourself as.

“Couldn’t your name have sufficed? Why did you—” he groaned and buried his face behind his hands, his voice coming through as muffled— “Why did you have to save yourself as ‘seven minutes hottie?’ Isn’t that too conceited of you... and corny?”

You shrugged. “It’s not wrong, is it?”

Even though you couldn’t see his face redden, he figured you’d imagined it as you let out a small snort. “What? Are you gonna tell me I’m not hot?”

“... No,” came his reluctant reply, as he finally removed his hands from his face and went to change your contact name to your actual name, only to remember he’d never got it. “Ah, wait, what’s your name?”

“My name?” You hummed quietly, like you were considering something, and Sunghoon felt a certain type of anticipation grow in his stomach. “If I tell you my name, do I get a kiss, cutie?”

He scoffed, though he could still feel some blood rush to his cheeks. You were really something. “I thought you said I was a bad kisser.”

“Uh-uh,” you corrected, leaning in slowly, “I said you don’t know how to kiss. But, once you do, well… who knows?”

For the second time in a week, Sunghoon felt the distance between you two close and desperately wished you were going to kiss him. Yes, he was in a grocery store and yes, anyone could walk past at any moment, but when you leaned in so close to him–with your soft lips pursed and your eyes staring into his soul–he couldn’t help but fall victim to the pull you had on him. He was weak–so weak–to you.

But, just like before, you didn’t.

You simply brushed his bed hair out of his face and snorted a bit at his spaced-out expression, before stepping back into a space where Sunghoon could finally breathe and think of something else other than your lips on his.

“Yeah,” he murmured, so low that you had to lean back in to hear him.

Sunghoon had always thought of himself as a reasonable, patient person. He knew if he wanted quality things in his life, he’d have to get used to waiting often–at least, that’s what his parents had taught him. But, every time you came into his orbit, his usually thick line of patience wore thin with a simple glance or smile from you.

What were you doing to him?

“Sorry,” your tongue flicked back over your lips, “what was that?”

His line snapped.

“Yeah, you do get a kiss.”

And the words were gone before he could take them back. But, blood rushing in his ears and heart pounding out of his chest, Sunghoon found he didn’t want to take them back–even though, in the back of his mind, part of him was blushing and squirming at his wording.

“Oh?” you said, looking straight into his eyes–unwavering, for once. A certain tension filled the air, as you two stared at each other for a moment, the night of the party probably replaying in both your heads. Careful not to disturb the atmosphere between you two, you whispered, “_____. My name’s _____.”

The tension wasn’t cut, but simply deflated like a balloon as Sunghoon let out a long breath, cheeks painted a dark red, and asked, “But not here, right? I’m not saying we’re doing anything too scandalous, but my mum’s good friends with the manager here, so… Yeah. I kinda, um–maybe I, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

There was a moment of silence, as you stared incredulously at the blushing boy, before you burst out into full-fledged laughter. You hugged your sides a bit and smiled so wide that any passerby would’ve thought Sunghoon was a comedic genius.

Before he could get the wrong idea, you cupped Sunghoon’s face and said, “You’re just too cute, cutie.”

And he smiled a little, slowly as his eyes traced your face, his brows finally relaxed.

You wiped an imaginary tear from your eye, sobering up, and asked, “So. Where's your car?”

III – S is for Scrapbook

You and Sunghoon had ended up kissing in his car.

When he’d told Jake about it later, he’d said you guys had made out–to embarrass Sunghoon, he assumed–but the kisses had been soft and chaste, where you’d been more focused on getting Sunghoon to reciprocate than just kissing him. He had, albeit slowly, and by the time he’d dropped you off at your house, he was able to proudly say that he had initiated a kiss between you two.

It had built his confidence incredibly, being able to say that he’d kissed you and not the other way around–not that he was saying it to anyone, besides Jake really–so much so that he’d texted you just a few minutes after he’d gotten home. He’d panicked then, wondering if you’d think it weird he’d texted you so quickly, but you’d responded just as fast that his nerves had calmed and he’d found himself laughing at your texts.

While talking to you face to face was something he didn’t think he’d ever get used to, texting you was something he could do with ease–well, somewhat.

In the late afternoons, when he woke up with messy bed hair and mucus still in his eyes, he’d check his phone to see if you’d sent anything–which you almost always had. Whether it was a quick picture of something you'd seen on a walk, your poor attempts at making breakfast, or even just a morning selfie.

On some days, he’d feel too flustered and musty to send anything in return–Like, what if you realised he was wearing the same shirt he’d sent a picture in yesterday?—and on others, he had to shut off his phone to take deep breaths after sending something as simple as him brushing his teeth.

Okay, so he was still struggling to talk to you, but at least he didn’t stutter over text and go red every few seconds.

With his awkwardness out of the way, he could actually learn things about you. Like your favourite colour, your favourite spots in town, and your hobbies. He even learned you liked to scrapbook and every summer, you’d make a scrapbook of all your highlights. Polaroids, film stills, movie tickets, coupons, and more would go into the scrapbook and at the end of summer, you’d post little snippets on it on your Instagram page. He’d told you it was cute and jokingly asked if he’d be featured in this summer’s scrapbook, to which you’d responded with ‘we’d have to go out for u to be included wouldnt we?’

Which is what led to this moment. He had thought you were joking about the whole going out thing because it’d been late at night and you two had just been talking about the trips you’d been going on with your families in the next couple of days, but then the next morning–that morning–you’d sent two tickets to a film showing that evening–this evening. Right now–and a short, little ‘wanna go see this? my scrapbook’s feeling a little hoon-less rn :(’.

Evidently, he hadn’t said no, because he was now parked outside your house, trying to calm himself down as he waited for you to come out.

His hands were sweating a bit, and he kept checking his reflection in his rearview mirror, anxiously biting his lower lip and running a hand through his hair. Surprisingly, it wasn’t even the fact that he was going to see you that was stressing him out, it was more the fact that he didn’t know what this was. Were you guys just going out to see a late-night movie as friends? Was it a date? Should he have shown up with flowers or a gift? Were you guys just friends? Were you something more? Did you always ask your friends to see movies late at night so impromptu? Did he even see you as more than a friend?

All the questions made his head swim and his palms sweat, but he couldn’t stop thinking about them. He hadn’t been thinking of this the few weeks you guys had been texting, but now he felt like a broken record, gaze bouncing between his reflection and your house.

And then all his thoughts slowed to a stop.

You walked out of your house with a slight smile and a twinkle in your eye, and his brain turned to mush. You looked… good. That was all he was capable of thinking, as you walked the short distance to his car, waving, and slid into the passenger seat.

Sunghoon stared at you for a second, as you put on your seatbelt and said hi, his mind completely blank. Then, your touch on his shoulder and a furrow between your brows brought him back to the present and he spat out a jumbled mess of, “Good, yeah, yeah. I’m good, you’re good, so good.”

It was your turn to stare, confusion clear in your eyes, and panic rose within him.

“Wait, I mean you look good!” he said, gesturing at you, “I mean, not that you don’t look good all the time, but, like, you look really good right now. Like, wow, I–I should stop talking.”

You blinked at him for a second and then laughed that same laugh that melted his insides. He noticed, as you threw your head back slightly, that you hadn’t removed your hand from his shoulder, and Sunghoon found himself relishing your touch.

“Stop it, cutie, you’re gonna make me blush,” you said playfully, rolling your eyes and hitting his chest lightly. You sobered up slightly, but the smile was still wide on your face as you said, “You look good, too. Very suave, very cool. I can’t lie though, I miss the bedhead and your grandma’s sweater a bit.”

With your easy words lightening the mood, he found himself relaxing a bit–enough to pull away from the curb and start driving. “Really? Maybe I’ll wear it next time.”

You didn’t blink at his mention of a next time, though Sunghoon searched your face for any sign of discomfort or surprise. Instead, your smile grew slightly and you asked, “What type of date are you thinking? Like, an early morning IHOP or Waffle House thing? Or, more of an early-morning pancake date at home?”

If it weren’t for the fact that he’d stopped at a red light, Sunghoon was sure he would’ve crashed his car right at that moment. He gulped loudly and spared your expectant eyes a glance, as he could feel his blood rush in his ears and hear his heart pound out of his chest.

The light turned green and he cleared his throat. “Uh, so, does that mean this is a date?”

He was glad he couldn’t see your reaction to his question–you probably thought he was silly–but was also nervous because you went quiet for a bit. Sunghoon considered turning on the radio and moving on from the topic, if that could dispel the momentary awkwardness between you two, but he wanted to hear your answer.

You laughed slightly, but he could hear the nervous undertones. “Do you not want it to be one? I’m sorry, I just assumed because, well, we kissed at the party and we’ve been talking and stuff since then, so… I thought you were more of a dating type of guy, but–”

“Wait, what?” he interrupted, a crease in his forehead as he spared you a glance. Something within him shattered at the sight of the uncertainty on your face. Had he done that? “What other type of guy would I be?”

“Well, you know…” You paused, shifting slightly in your seat. “There are some guys that just wanna have fun. Mess around, you know? I didn’t think you were one of those guys, but if that’s what you wanna do, then–”

“No,” he said fiercely, only realising how angry he sounded when you glanced at him in surprise. “I want to date you. I really do. I just… I thought you didn’t and I didn’t know if we were just friends, and I’ve never done this before so, I just–”

“You’ve never done this before?” you cut him off, visible shock in your eyes. “There’s no way, Hoon. You’re joking, right?”

And with that, the awkwardness dissipated, as his cheeks flamed and he avoided your wide eyes.

“I know, it’s weird–”

“No, no!” You smiled a bit at his flustered state. “It’s not weird. I’ve only dated once before and, even then, it wasn’t that serious, so we’re kind of in the same boat.”

It was his turn to glance at you with incredulous eyes. “Wait, really? I thought you had so much dating experience cause, like, you’re such a good kisser and you’re so confident and forward, y’know?”

You shrugged. “Like I said, some guys just wanna mess around. Sometimes, I do too.”

“And that’s not what you want with me, right? You actually want to date, right?” You’d already told him you considered this a date, and he’d already told you he wanted to date you–which you hadn’t objected to–but he just had to make sure that was real, and his mind hadn’t made that up.

“Yeah, Hoon,” you started softly, a shy smile on your lips–something he thought he’d never see on you. “I actually want to date you.”

Immediately, his eyes flickered back to the road and his cheeks flushed, a wide grin slowly stretching on his lips. You laughed at his smile, loud and warm, and he closed his eyes in bliss and only opened them again to smile at you.

“So, this is a date? For sure?” he asked, one hand on the wheel and the other on the console as he flickered through the channels for a song.

“Mhm,” you hummed, your hand brushing his as you turned up the volume on a specific channel, smiling at the way his flush deepened. You held his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and nodded. “This is a date.”

Sunghoon couldn’t even remember why he’d been so nervous, and why his palms–one of which was currently touching yours–had been so sweaty, as he gazed into your eyes and leaned in for a chaste kiss. He smiled into it and rolled his eyes to himself, all of his questions answered. Especially the one he’d been too worried to even ask himself.

If he’d had any doubt about it before, he was sure of it now.

He liked you. Maybe even too much for a summer fling.

IV – S is for Sorry

Over the next few days, Sunghoon found himself wishing you guys were more than just a summer fling.

It was wistful thinking, he knew that already. Just a few months prior, you guys hadn’t even been aware of the other's existence. Now, to him, it felt like you took up every inch of his thoughts, dreams, and being. And, in just a couple of weeks, you’d be off to your respective universities, leaving the short fling between you just that–a short, summer fling.

You two were avoiding talking about it, despite the palpable tension it added to your conversations when you brought up the future. You would mention how you were going to look into photography courses at your uni on a video call and Sunghoon would smile outwardly, while inwardly he’d wonder if you’d find someone else to call your muse–as he’d gotten used to you calling him.

He would mention how he was going to do a double major since he wasn’t completely sure what he wanted to do, and he’d notice the way you’d bite your lip like you were stopping yourself from asking him where. And, just now, moments ago on your video call, you had mentioned how you wanted to go on another date with him after you both got back from your hometowns, but before… (well, you hadn’t continued but he knew you meant before you two had to part.)

He knew you two were only prolonging your pain, and he was only wounding himself deeper by thinking so wistfully, but you two were happy at this exact moment. And, it wasn’t enough, but he’d make it be enough if that was what you two needed.

At least, that’s what he’d been thinking till his sister barged into his childhood room and said his grandma wanted to see him.

Now, legs tucked under himself and head lowered, Sunghoon sat opposite her, with a long table between them, and a tense silence filled the room.

He wasn’t sure what his grandma “seeing him” meant. She wasn’t very old, just in her early sixties, but she was a calm, wise woman who’d lived to see and experience a lot, so she may as well have had the wisdom of someone a century old. If she wanted to “see him,” that most likely meant she had a piece of advice for him that he wouldn’t like.

For once, he was right.

“So, your mum told me you’ve been seeing someone?”

Sunghoon coughed abruptly, patting his chest as a deep flush flooded his cheeks. “I’m sorry?”

“Sorry?” Sunghoon’s grandma scoffed and eyed him slowly. “What are you sorry for? Not calling to consult me first? Or, for trying to hide it from me? Or, is there something else, hm?”

He raised his eyes to meet his grandma’s eyes, but immediately lowered them at the fierce scowl on her face. He bowed deeply, palms flat before him. “I’m sorry, Grandma.”

She eyed his form for a second, before scoffing again and gesturing toward him. “Sit, sit. I didn’t call you here to hear you apologise all day.”

Sunghoon sat again and raised his head but still didn’t look his grandma in the eye. His mind was too preoccupied with wondering how his mum had figured it out, considering you guys had gone on your first date just a couple of days ago.

He jolted a bit when his grandma asked, “You’re not going to ask me why I called you?”

“Sorry,” he began and cleared his throat at his grandma’s glare. “Why did you call me, Grandma?”

She continued eyeing him with the same, wary gaze she’d been eyeing him with since he’d entered her room for a few moments, before she suddenly became sombre. Without the glint in her eyes, Sunghoon could see how deep the pools in her eyes were and the lines surrounding them. He released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

“Well, what’s your plan? Hm?” Her eyes bore deep into his like her question was just a formality and she already knew the answer. Sunghoon wouldn’t be surprised if she already did. “Are you two going to be a campus couple?”

He knew her question was mostly rhetorical, but he couldn’t help but imagine it. Walking you to and from lectures; studying together in a library or a cosy coffee shop; going to endless parties with you; proofreading each other’s papers; you wearing his clothes in his dorm. Sunghoon felt himself grow warm.

Then, even warmer as his grandma cleared her throat and raised a knowing brow in his direction. She didn’t have to say anything for him to realise she was expecting an answer.

“I…” He faltered for a moment, remembering the hesitancy in your eyes every time a hint of the topic was brought up. “I don’t know, Grandma. I… well, there’s nothing I can really do, I guess. We’re probably not even going to the same universities, so I don’t know what the plan is.”

“Have you guys talked about it?”

A pause settled between the two of them, as Sunghoon lowered his eyes again and prepared himself to bow again.

His grandma scoffed, the loudest of all her scoffs so far, and sighed exasperatedly. “You two haven’t even discussed anything? And you’re here talking like you’re some handsome lead in a drama and _____’s life will be in danger if you two continue dating?”

“Ah, Grandma, are you saying I’m not hands–Wait, wait? How do you know _____’s name?”

She paused slightly and carefully schooled her features. “Is that important right now?”

“I mean,” Sunghoon’s brows furrowed, then he remembered your touch against them and he relaxed them a bit, “considering that I’ve never told Mum _____’s name or even the fact that we’ve been on one date, yes? Kinda?”

“I’m your grandma, am I not?” was her only response, with the ghost of a smile on her lips. He grimaced slightly, but his grandma continued without any regard for his reaction. “I know you guys are kids, but you didn’t even think of discussing anything? You were just going to kiss and say ‘bye bye’ and continue with your lives?”

“I mean,” Sunghoon started, trying to fight the blush climbing up his body. There wasn’t any point, though, because the apples of his cheeks were already shining. “_____’s not even my partner or anything, so it isn’t my place…”

“But isn’t that the end goal?”

His grandma stared at him, but he couldn’t hold the weight of her stare. Because deep down inside, Sunghoon knew she was right. And he knew he wanted nothing more than to be able to be called yours.

To see more pictures of the scenery from your morning walks and even join you on them too. To cuddle up in bed and watch some of your favourite animes together, only pausing to snuggle further into the blanket. To finally go on that early morning date at a Waffle House, eating your orders in his car where his passenger seat would be perfectly adjusted to seat you. To have a home, a space, with you.

But, he thought. There was always a ‘but’.

Before, that ‘but’ had been that he wasn’t even sure if that was what you wanted as well, if he even really wanted it. Now, that ‘but’ was the inevitable space and distance that would grow between you two. The space that would grow so large that you two wouldn’t be able to have any space for each other.

Sunghoon’s stomach sank as his thoughts spiralled, but he summed them up to his grandma with a simple shrug.

“Why are you, why are you so dramatic?” she asked, rolling her eyes at her grandson’s face. A fierce scowl was back on her face and, if it weren’t for the table between the two of them, she looked like she was about ready to pull on Sunghoon’s ear. “Why are you sitting here in my house moping and frowning like everything’s decided? Who knows? Maybe _____ is willing to make it work, to even travel to another city just to see you and your dramatic self. But how would you know when you’re busy here moping?”

He’d considered it. Judging from the talks you’d had and the sheer amount of hours you talked every day, Sunghoon was sure that you liked him as well (not as much as he did, he was sure–that wasn’t even remotely possible when he could barely get you off his mind–but enough to deal with his “dramatic self,” as his grandma had put it). But, there it was again, he just couldn’t get rid of that ‘but.’ It was festering in the back of his mind whenever he even thought of bringing it up to you.

“Sunghoon.” There was a note of finality in his grandma’s voice as she said his name. “Discuss things with _____ first. I understand sometimes we experience heartbreak, but I won’t let you break your own heart over foolishness.”

“But Grandma–”

“No ‘buts.’” His grandma folded her arms in her lap and glanced at the door of her room. “No more ‘buts’, Sunghoon.”

Despite the lingering worry settled in his system, he sighed and stood up slowly. Sunghoon bowed deeply, glanced at his hands, and left his grandma’s room with her words in mind.

V – E is for End

Sunghoon wasn’t too sure he’d be able to follow his grandma’s instructions.

He was back now from his hometown, back in the comfort of his familiar Seoul bedroom, but you weren’t here. He’d known you two wouldn’t get back at the same time, yet that didn’t stop him from feeling slightly lonely without you to go on dates with. It was a numbing feeling, that left him feeling empty if he dwelled on it too long, and he worried he’d go completely numb if you two truly didn’t end up working out.

The thought sent a chill down his spine every time Sunghoon’s mind strayed to it and Jake’s feeble comforts did little to quell his worries.

To make matters worse, you unexpectedly postponed your return date and said you couldn’t go to a pool party Jake was throwing anymore. You were very vague about the reason why when he asked and Sunghoon began worrying once again. He even brought up not going to the party to Jake, but his best friend wouldn’t have it and threatened to drag him to the party himself.

So, there he was. Standing at the edge of a crowd of strangers, nursing his second beer of the night, and completely alone. Well, he wasn’t completely alone. Jake and some of Sunghoon’s other friends had passed by him and invited him to the dance floor, but he couldn’t get himself to get out there and dance with someone who wasn’t you. The most they’d been able to get him to do was drink a little, even if the drinks only fuelled his moping.

A couple of people sent him inviting looks and winks, dancing in a way that made him avert his eyes immediately, but he didn’t budge an inch from where he was standing. Maybe if you were here, he would. No, definitely, if you were here he would. His mind wandered to grasp at the edges of the first night you’d met, trying to remember if you’d been dancing that night, but he couldn’t pull up a single image of you dancing.

If you were here, how would you dance? Would you dance with a lot of energy, completely letting yourself loose? Or, would you take your time to flow with the music, swinging your hips and smiling at him in that way that just drove him crazy?

Sunghoon smiled a bit at the thought and felt his hips move along to the beat, frowning once he realised what he was doing.

He missed you.

Just a few months ago, he hadn’t known he could miss someone the way he was missing you, but he was and he couldn’t do anything about it.

As if his best friend could read his thoughts, Jake danced off the dance floor to Sunghoon’s side, running a hand through his unruly, blond hair. Sunghoon could smell the booze coming off him, and he watched as his friend nearly lost his footing trying to lean on Sunghoon. Jake barely noticed, though, as he just kept smiling up at Sunghoon. Sunghoon made a point to look anywhere, except in the blond’s direction.

After a while of just trying to ignore his drunk friend, Sunghoon eventually rolled his eyes and raised an eyebrow in Jake’s direction. “What?”

“I can’t, I can’t just look at you now?” Jake asked, his wide smile never leaving his face.

“No, it’s not that. It’s the way you’re looking at me.”

“How am I looking at you?” His friend leaned in close, stretching an arm around Sunghoon’s shoulders. “Hm? I’m just looking at you with my normal eyeballs, my very normal eyeballs, actually just like you, you too.”

“You’re looking at me like, I don’t fucking know, you’re hiding some type of secret from me,” Sunghoon said, pushing Jake off his frame. “And I don’t like that look because the last time you looked at me like that I ended up kissing _____ in a shed for seven minutes.”

Jake’s wide smile grew into a slight, smug smirk. “And look how well that turned out for you. Someone’s not so bitchless anymore.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes and took a swig of his drink but couldn’t hide the dusting of pink on his cheeks. (If he were to consider things between the two of you, you would be the one who wasn’t so bitchless anymore, considering he was more of your bitch than you were his with the way he was nursing a beer in the corner of a party like a loser just because he missed you. He didn’t need to tell Jake all that though.)

Instead, he feigned an annoyed scowl and crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you want, Jake?”

“I thought you would never ever ever ask.” His friend grinned. “Can you please get out the other floaties from the shed? Some people ripped these and, well, turns out not everyone at a pool party can actually swim. A bit crazy, I know.”

“Why can’t you? The shed was closer to where you were standing.”

“Um…” his friend trailed off, shaking his head incredulously, “I’m obviously inebriated, you know! Everything weighs a shitton of bricks right now.”

Sunghoon’s feigned scowl deepened into a real one, as he rolled his eyes and put his beer down on the ground. It was getting warm anyway and the alcohol wasn’t doing much for him, except make him miss you more. He shot Jake a look, before shouldering past him and making his way towards Jake’s shed.

It was surprisingly chilly for a summer night out, chilly enough at least that Sunghoon could feel some of the hairs on his arms raise as he stalked towards the shed. But, he welcomed the chill because his alternative was thinking about what had happened the last time he’d walked towards this shed. And once he started thinking about that, he’d start missing the feel of your lips on his, your arms around his neck, your eyes staring into his.

He cursed under his breath at his thoughts, wondering if, for even one second, he could think of something other than you.

Sunghoon immediately answered his question with a ‘no’ when he walked into the shed and he thought he smelled your signature fragrance. He would’ve recognised it anywhere (not because he was obsessed like Jake had once said, but because you’d borrowed his sweater on your date and your scent still lingered even after he’d washed it), so he was sure he wasn’t picking up someone else’s perfume or cologne, but he wouldn’t rule out him imagining your fragrance there as a result of him missing you so much.

So, he ignored the smell filling the shed and clambered around for the light switch. He’d been so sure it was by the wall, but he must’ve been more buzzed than he realised because his fingers kept grazing the air. By the time he finally felt the grooves of the light switch under his fingers and was going to turn it on, Sunghoon was so ready to grab the floaties Jake had asked for and get back to the party, or maybe even go home because–

Sunghoon froze.

He couldn’t think, speak, or do anything as the lights flickered on to reveal… well, you.

Sunghoon was going crazy.

He was so sure you were a figment of his imagination, brought about by how much he missed you, and he immediately frowned at the thought. Missing you was fine, maybe overkill when he thought about how often he thought about you, but creating images of you? That was a bit too much, even for him.

Despite his thoughts, though, Sunghoon couldn’t shake the nagging hope that maybe this was real. It didn’t help that “you”—or you–were smiling at him in a way that made his stomach flip, especially after being away from you for so long.

He felt ridiculous for even bothering, like when a horror film character asks who’s there after hearing a noise in the dark, but he cleared his throat slowly and whispered, “_____?”

You giggled softly and raised your eyebrows at what Sunghoon was sure was an incredulous look on his face. “Yes, Hoon?”

“Oh, my God,” Sunghoon started, feet still locked in place, “Oh, my God.”

You took a step closer to him and your grin only grew wider as he blinked slowly at you. Another step and he gulped slowly. Yet another and his eyes grew wide.

He put a hand up before you could take another step and close the distance between you two. “Wait, wait, wait!”

A small frown lit up your face, but you stayed where you were and slightly cocked your head.

“You’re real?” Sunghoon felt stupid asking, but he still had to check.

The feeling only doubled when your brows furrowed and you asked, “Am I real? … Hoon, is everything okay?”

He felt so warm at the familiar nickname that he could almost ignore the rest of what you said, but the growing concern on your face made him clarify himself.

“I just, I’ve had a bit to drink so I thought that my brain tricked me into thinking you were there.” Sunghoon paused at the bemusement on your face and he suddenly felt a whole lot warmer, despite the chilly air. “Actually, um, now that I say it out loud I do realise how ridiculous it sounds. Sorry.”

“Well,” you smiled at him with a sly glint in your eye, finally closing the gap between you two so your breath was fanning out on his face, “if you want to check, you always can.”

Sunghoon, being the guy he was, immediately thought of how he’d pinch himself in a shocking situation and went to do just that. It was only when you laughed at his actions, an incredulous look in your eyes, that he realised what you’d meant and blushed.

“Oh, I, I–”

“Hoon?” you asked, cutting him off and waiting until he nodded, “You’re so cute sometimes, y’know?”

“Just sometimes?” Sunghoon recovered quickly, sliding his arms around your waist and grinning slightly. He’d missed this too much. “So, what am I the other times?”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. “Someone’s gotten a little bolder, hasn’t he?”

“I’d say it’s your influence. You were bound to rub off on me after sticking around me so much.”

He grinned at the way your brows shot up.

“Sticking around you? Hoon, who was the one that–”

“_____?” It was Sunghoon’s turn to cut you off and his grin grew so wide at the realisation on your face. It felt good to finally flip the tables. “You talk so much sometimes, y’know?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a slight tug on your lips. “Wow, you’re so original. What, first you’re gonna steal my line, next you’re gonna pull some cheesy rom-com line on me and kiss me?”

“So you’re telling me you wouldn’t like it?” he asked, as one of his hands slowly travelled up your side and settled on cupping your jaw. He didn’t miss the way you sagged into his touch. Sunghoon was going to explode.

The tug on your lips grew into a full grin and you wrapped your hands around his neck. “Now, who said anything about that? C’mere, Hoon.”

He didn’t need to hear it twice. Sunghoon tilted your jaw towards him and leaned in for a soft kiss. It wasn’t intense or desperate, unlike what he’d imagined it be like after being away from you for so long, but he preferred it this way. He could savour the taste of your familiar lip balm against his lips and take his time pecking small, chaste kisses on and around your lips.

He sighed out loud and felt his cheeks flush when you pulled back to laugh. “You really missed me, huh?”

Sunghoon wasn’t sure if it was because of the little alcohol in his system or how much he’d missed you, but he gazed into your eyes and whispered, “I did. I really did.”

And, just like that, the tension was back. The obvious hesitancy. The ‘buts.’ He could feel your hold on his neck loosen slightly and he wanted nothing more than to take his words back and rewind to before he fell too deep, but it was too late. All that was left was for him to either avoid everything or finally face it, despite the worries that built up in his mind.

“_____,” he started gently, like you would run away at any second (but he knew you too well to know that you wouldn’t–he would), “we… we should talk.”

“About what?” you tried, a burst of nervous laughter escaping your lips.

You were avoiding his serious gaze, choosing instead to focus on where your hands met his neck. Sunghoon couldn’t tell much of what you were thinking, but, knowing you, he knew you were only postponing the conversation. Maybe it was because this was supposed to be a fun night for you two–after all, you’d probably sacrificed some more nights with your family to get here. Or, maybe it was because you weren’t ready to discuss it. Either way, it was as much your decision as his.

Sunghoon lowered his hands to your lower back and squeezed lightly. “I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want to… It’d just be a good idea because soon everyone’s gonna start leaving for uni and well, we don’t even know what’s gonna happen between us then, and it’d probably be best if–”

“Hoon.” You were looking into his eyes now, your brows drawn together. “You’re shaking.”

His eyes grew wide and left your face to glance at his fingers, which were trembling around your waist. He tried laughing, shaking the nerves off, but the sound came out choked and he winced. Without a word, he gestured towards the floor of the shed and slumped against the back wall. You followed shortly after, sitting with your knees bunched up to your chest, one of your shoulders brushing against his. At your touch, Sunghoon wanted to reach out and squeeze one of your hands, but they were balled up on top of your knees, a hard look on your face. He sighed.

“You’re right, Hoon,” you started, staring ahead through the open shed door. The party was still going on outside, the music and noise muted from where you two were, but it might’ve as well not been with the way you two were wrapped up in your own bubble. A tense bubble. “We should talk… about us.”

He nodded, crossing his legs and laying his trembling hands in his lap.

Despite what you said, a short lapse of silence settled between you two and, for a moment, Sunghoon was worried this wasn’t going to go anywhere and he’d made a mistake.

But then you swivelled your head towards him and whispered, “What do you want us to be?”

What does he want you two to be? He’d thought about that question one too many times. It’d only ever hurt, thinking of so many domestic scenes and possibilities with you two when he wasn’t even sure if there could be a ‘you two.’

“What do I want us to be?” he repeated, gazing out the shed. “I want us to be together. I want… I want to keep waking up to your pictures on my phone and to go on spontaneous, little dates with you and finally go for that Waffle House date and… just be with you. I want you.”

With his last words, he slowly looked at you and already found you looking at him. There was a little smile tugging at your lips, that was both sad and happy at the same time, and you just nodded slowly.

As his gaze lingered, you cleared your throat and averted your eyes. “I want that too. Really, I do. You don’t understand how many times I’ve wondered what it’d be like if, I don’t know, we’d met a little earlier. If we could’ve gotten to know each other during high school.

“You know Jake told me you were your school’s drama club star?” You smiled slightly and Sunghoon felt a small smile pull at his lips as well. “I would’ve loved to be in the crowds, cheering you on. Or, even maybe get up on stage with you. Jake told me your school never did Romeo and Juliet, but you’d make a pretty good Juliet, don’t you think?”

Sunghoon chuckled and you did too, your shoulders brushing against each other’s for a moment, till your laughter ebbed away. You stared straight ahead again, frowning.

“And then I wondered why I kept thinking of the past. I mean, it’d just make more sense for me to hope that we could stay together, you know? But instead, I keep wishing we’d known each other longer.” You smiled again, that smile from before, but Sunghoon was sure it was only sad this time. “And I realised that I, I felt like we were running out of time. That, I don’t know, when summer ends, we end. Like the changing of weather is some type of timer.”

You whispered the last part more to yourself, but Sunghoon heard it and the self-loathing in it. You loathed yourself for the way you’d been thinking. Sunghoon couldn’t help but relate.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at Sunghoon, a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. “Do you ever feel like that? Like this is all the time we’ll ever have? Like even thinking of a future where we’re together is… I don’t know, like, wrong?”

That familiar hurt Sunghoon felt or anticipated, whenever he thought of the two of you together on campus came to mind and he nodded slowly. The ‘buts were popping up in his mind again, filling him with growing dread and he was starting to regret his decision. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, shouldn’t have brought it up, and let you guys live in oblivious bliss for a little longer. But, deep down, he knew that wouldn’t be true bliss. Like his grandma had said, you would only end up hurting yourselves because of your foolishness.

“But that’s not true, is it?” he started, glancing down at his hands which had started trembling again, “I don’t even know, like, what even made us think we only have the summer? Just because we met in summer? When you think of it like that, you feel ridiculous don’t you? We could literally be going to the same uni and we’re here, too anxious to even tell each other where we’re going.”

You snorted, glancing at Sunghoon out of the corner of your eye. “You’re right.” Straightening, you turned your whole body to face him. “You know considering we’re going in a few weeks, we’ve probably put more effort into not mentioning uni in our conversations because it should’ve popped up in our conversations, at least, once before.”

“Exactly. We should just tell each other. Now. Before we, we lose our nerve or something.”

You nodded and bit your lip, while Sunghoon closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt your hand brush against his, so he opened his eyes and took your hands in his. Your hands were, surprisingly, clammy. He was going to say something about it, but, glancing at your face, he spotted the way your eyes were darting all around the room.

Instead of commenting on it, Sunghoon took another deep breath. “Ready?”

You nodded once. “Ready.”

A short silence ensued between the two of you, as neither of you said anything or even made a move to say anything. Your eyes finally landed on his and a nervous smile tugged at the edge of your lips. You were nervous, Sunghoon realised belatedly and squeezed your hand instinctively.

“On three?” he offered.

“On three.”

“One, two, three–University of Seoul.”

“Kyunghee University–wait, what the fuck?”

Sunghoon furrowed his brows at the shocked look on your face and your exclamation. He couldn’t even focus on the name of the university you’d said. All the anxieties that’d been bothering him were beginning to boil up and over at the simple lack of happiness on your face. He was almost sure he was the one with the clammy hands now and he moved to remove his hand from yours when you gripped his tightly and began to smile lightly.

“What the fuck,” you repeated, still as shocked, but with the beginnings of a grin on your face.

Sunghoon only looked at you with his brows still furrowed. He frowned slightly when you began laughing. “I’m confused.”

“I can’t believe I was so stressed about this,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, but still smiling directly at him. “Hoon, we’re so dumb. So fucking dumb.”

“I agree… I think? But, why, I–”

“What neighbourhood is the University of Seoul in?”

“_____, what? I–”

You placed a finger on his lips and shook your head. “Don’t overthink it. Just answer my question.”

He glanced between your finger on his lips and your face. “Dongdaemun-gu.”

“Dongdaemun-gu,” you repeated, your small smile growing into a full one now, “Guess where Kyunghee is?”

“Uh.” He looked away from your face, trying to picture a map of Seoul in his head, but he drew short (he’d always been bad at geography anyway). “Myeongnyun? Daehakno?”

He didn’t think it was possible, but your smile grew even wider. “Not even close. It’s in Hoegi-Dong.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, while you just looked at him with an expectant look on your face. He shook his head sheepishly and you just rolled your eyes.

“Hoon, they’re like five minutes away from each other.” You paused to let it sink in and laughed as Sunghoon’s brows finally relaxed and his eyes widened. “This is fucking stupid. We’re so fucking stupid.”

Sunghoon could only blink dumbly at you, while you just laughed at his dumbfounded shock. Immediately, his grandma’s words returned to him and a huge sense of embarrassment washed over him as he realised he’d proven her right. But, glancing between your intertwined hands and your wide smile, he found that he didn’t mind the embarrassment if it meant he still had a space with you.

(He’d do nearly anything to have that with you, he realised.)

You broke him out of his stupor by wrapping your arms around his neck and whispering, “So, Hoon, how do you feel now knowing that we’ll be, like, five minutes away from each other?”

“Want me to be honest?” he asked, placing his hands back on your waist (where they just seemed to fit perfectly, he noticed) and grinning softly when you nodded. “I feel really fucking embarrassed. Like, for weeks I’ve just been thinking of how much I’d miss you and wondering if I should even ask you out since we might not even see each other ever again. And, in the back of my head, I knew it was dumb because, if we wanted to make it work, we could make it work for sure. But, it was hard to remember that and–”

“Hoon, hoon,” you interrupted, giggling slightly and tightening your grip on his neck, “now, you’re the one talking too much.”

Sunghoon paused, taking a second to process what was going on. You were in front of him, hands wrapped around his neck, and smiling widely like he made you the happiest person in the world. He was in front of you, hands wrapped around your waist, and still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you two would be five minutes away from each other nearly every day–the closest to a campus couple he could ever ask for. He didn’t believe in fate (the same way he hadn’t believed in perfect first kisses, but he’d seen just how well that’d worked out for him), but the more he thought about it, the more he was sure that something more than luck had landed you two in this situation.

He sighed out loud and rested his head against yours. ”God, I feel like I aged twenty years worrying about all of this. It feels a bit silly now, doesn’t it?”

“A bit is an understatement, don’t you think?” you replied, settling yourself in his lap. He froze a bit, and you moved to get up, but he shook his head and brought you closer. You smiled. “Besides, you’d probably still look good as a thirty-nine-year-old.”

“Oh, gross.” He scrunched up his nose as he moved closer to you, his hands running up and down your sides. “I don’t even want to imagine myself over thirty yet.”

“Really?” you raised a brow, arms locking around his neck and eyes flickering to his lips. “You’d be a hot DILF though.”

He snorted. “God, shut up.”

Your smile widened, a knowing glint in your eye. “Don’t make me say the cheesy rom-com line, Hoon.”

“Alright, alright,” he murmured, lips a breadth away from yours, before he kissed you.

Now, this was the desperate, intense kiss he’d been imagining earlier. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the anticipation you’d both been harbouring before or the elation at what you’d just found out, but you both pulled out the works with teeth, tongue–everything. Sunghoon couldn’t begin to describe how he felt, what you were making him feel, but all he knew was he didn’t want it to end.

And when you kissed him on his cheek, tugged on his hand, and pulled him out into the chaos of the party, smiling at him all the while like he was the only guy in the world, he knew it never would.

Epilogue – S is for Summer Fling

You two had decided on the early-morning pancake at-home date.

Evidently so, as you were in nothing but a hoodie of his and his old gym shorts (a fact that Sunghoon had known since yesterday, when you’d slept over at his after Jake’s party, but he was still struggling to grasp), he was in another one of his hoodies and sweatpants, and you were both still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. The rich smell of butter wafted all around Sunghoon’s kitchen, accompanied by the sizzling sound of him pouring pancake batter on the greasy pan. Besides the sizzles, and the occasional yawn from you, it was a completely silent morning, as Sunghoon concentrated all his efforts into impressing you with his cooking skills.

“So does this mean you’re my boyfriend now?” you asked, breaking the silence and Sunghoon’s focus.

He blinked, glad he was facing the stove and not where you sitting behind the kitchen island, and found that he couldn’t stop blinking. Was he your boyfriend? It was like you read his mind because that’s all he’d been thinking of since the moment he woke up with you in his arms. He’d fallen asleep on many hot summer nights, but he’d never woken up as warm as he had that morning. It was a feeling he’d spent minutes basking in, tracing every one of your resting features with his eyes and wondering how he’d function as your boyfriend, waking up nearly every morning with this same warmth in his chest. It almost seemed too good to be his reality. And if he was your boyfriend, he thought, that meant you were his and–

“Hoon! The pancakes!” you yelled and Sunghoon cursed loudly.

He moved the pan off the stove and turned on the kitchen hood, but it was too late. The pancake was charred beyond recognition and, looking down at it, he wondered how he hadn’t smelt the tinging scent of the burnt pancake.

Sunghoon sighed as he chucked away the pancakes. “I’m sorry, _____, that was the last bit of pancake batter we had. If you don’t mind, I can quickly run to the store and–”

“Don’t worry about it, Hoon,” you said, cutting him off as you slid off the island seat. He couldn’t see where you were, or where you were going, so he stifled his breath a bit when you slid up beside him and thrust your phone in his face. “Besides, we can order in.”

He spared a glance at your face, preparing himself for any signs of disappointment or irritation, but you were just smiling at him with a soft look in your eyes.

His brows furrowed. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yeah, I guess,” you started, shrugging, “but I can wait a couple of minutes.”

Sunghoon bit his lip, a protest and another apology on the tip of his tongue, and furrowed his brows further. Your eyes traced his movements, and you placed two gentle fingers on the fold between his brows, smoothing them out. He didn’t say anything as you did. He just lowered his head and frowned slightly at the smoking scent reminding him of his failed attempt at breakfast. You simply grinned at the obvious frustration and disappointment on his face, a look rising in your eyes that he didn’t catch as he chewed on his lower lip.

“Hoon,” you called out softly, waiting for him to raise his head. When he did, you took a step closer to him, a coy look in your eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”

He was about to furrow his brows again in confusion, but your words from earlier replayed in his head as your smile only grew more teasing, and Sunghoon was sure he was turning as red as the strawberries on the counter behind him.

The boy averted his gaze from you, murmuring, “Well, I was hoping to ask if I could have the honour of being your boyfriend after, you know, we had food that I’d made in our stomachs and proper clothes on our bodies, but I guess so.”

“The honour?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow and muffling a laugh. Sunghoon glared at you lightly when you let a giggle slip, at which you apologised. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I promise I’ll bestow you with the honour of being my boyfriend after we run to the grocery store so you can fix up some pancakes and ask me out already.”

You almost laughed again at how quickly he perked up at your words and, this time, he rolled your eyes and smiled slightly at your teasing grin.

As he grabbed his keys, held your hand, and slipped out the door, the same warmth he’d felt that morning bloomed from where your hands met to every other bit of his body. He’d never imagined this, kissing his soon-to-be something in his car before a grocery run, was where he’d find himself after he’d had his first kiss on a night that felt like years ago. He couldn’t even imagine where he’d be with you in a couple of years. All he knew was he was glad you’d ended up as more than a summer fling.

feedback & reblogs are welcome and appreciated! ♡♡

teaser | masterlist

#kflixnet #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #enha fluff #enha x reader #enha imagines #enhypen #engene #enha #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x reader #sensitively-taken works

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mlmxreader · 3 months

Text

Just Be You | Bard the Bowman x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Bard

58 “It looks good on you, you should wear it more often” ❞

: ̗̀➛ Bard is having doubts about himself when it comes to meeting your family.

: ̗̀➛ swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Bard grumbled as he looked at himself in the mirror, frowning as he doubted that he looked good enough.

He was going to meet your family for the first time, and he was quite nervous in all honesty; he knew your family weren't much better off than his own, coming from a farm in the next town over and making very little despite the hours and hours of hard labour.

He knew they wouldn't judge his situation, either; two children of his own, he was more than glad that your family immediately agreed to accept both of them as yours as well.

But months of courtship suddenly felt like too little as he ran a hand through his hair and wondered if he should cut it. Maybe he should have neatened himself up a bit more.

But with Bain, Sigrid and Tilda off at their schoolmates' homes for the weekend for various birthday parties and sleepovers, Bard felt a little outnumbered.

Even when you walked in with a fresh cup of tea, putting your arm on his shoulder and smiling at him through the mirror, he felt a little out of place. Out of depth.

"What is it?" You asked, tilting your head to the side and pressing the mug into his hand. "C'mon, cough it up."

He let out a long sigh, chewing at the inside of his lip. "Are you sure this looks alright?"

You nodded as you hummed, daring to tug at the lapel of his soft fur jacket. It was one of the best ones he had, a medium brown colour with a thicker fur trim on the inside, collar and ends of the sleeves.

You rarely saw him wear it anymore, even though it looked so good on him; you bit at the inside of your lip, pushing certain thoughts from your mind before clearing your throat and daring to kiss his cheek.

"I love that coat," you told him softly. "It looks good on you, you should wear it more often."

Bard glared at you for a second, shaking his head. "And what of the rest?"

"The white shirt is a good start," you mused, stepping in front of him and resting your hand on his chest. "The black trousers are also good..."

"But?"

"But," you couldn't help but to laugh a little as you shrugged. "You're quite a distraction."

He rolled his eyes, putting the cup of tea to the side and gently taking your wrists in his hands, holding them to his chest. "I want to make a good impression."

"I know," you told him softly, daring to steal a quick kiss. "I don't doubt that you will... trust me, my family already told you when they wrote - Bain, Sigrid and Tilda are already part of us. Why wouldn't they accept you?"

"I look awful," he huffed.

"You look like a man that works on the barges," you said softly. "I don't want you to pretend to be something you're not just to make an impression. We're no better off than you are. They won't mind."

"I stink of fish," Bard huffed.

"And usually I stink of horse shit whenever I come over," you pointed out. "It's alright. Be your usual self. Please, even just for me?"

"Alright," he nodded, daring to smile. "Do you really like the coat that much?"

"Definitely," you grinned. "I wonder why you stopped wearing it so much."

Bard knew why, he wanted at least one half decent coat for whenever he was seen with you; he was proud to be a man of the people, but that didn't mean that he didn't want to look good for you. To look like he actually put in effort for once.

Even though you kept telling him that just being present was plenty enough effort for you. He knew how much you put in for him; helping the children with their studies and taking them out for meals and to visit different places.

Bard knew that you treated them like one of your own, and he was glad of it, really. But it was the effort you put in for him, as well. He wasn't stupid. Bard saw how you always paused at the bottom of the ladder to fix your clothes and to make yourself look presentable for him after spending all day on the farm.

He saw you change out of your boots and into a pair of somewhat better ones that you carried with you. He saw how you put in so much effort to look good for him.

"Suppose I just don't think about it," he said, daring to smile as he tugged you a little closer. "Maybe you can borrow it next time."

You put both hands on his chest, grinning at him as you nodded. "I'd like that... it's a shame the children can't come with us."

He nodded slowly. "I'm sure they would have liked to have come."

"As long as you're alright with my gran insisting that they eat tonnes of cake and sweets," you chuckled. "Maybe next time."

As outnumbered and nervous as he felt, Bard was actually glad that the children couldn't join in meeting your family; he would have hated it if he had disappointed them by making a bad impression, even if you were adamant that he would never.

There was always a chance; a wrong choice of words here, a stumble there, dropping something, not realising how things were done - he knew it was easy to make mistakes.

He was well aware that your family had expectations; you were only a few years younger than Bard, and he knew full well that you would be expected to take over the farm and to settle down and marry someone who would help.

You didn't seem to care, though, as whenever he brought it up, you admitted that you didn't mind if he wanted to stay in Lake-town as a bargeman. If he was happy, you were happy.

"I love you," Bard admitted quietly, bringing your hands to his lips and gently kissing your fingertips.

You grinned, sight getting a bit blurry as your face felt hot. You swallowed thickly. "That's the first time you said that..."

He paused, eyes widening as it dawned on him. "So it is."

"I love you, too," you whispered, gently pulling your hands from his grasp so that you could cup his cheeks, kissing him softly. "I love you... trust me, tonight is going to go just fine. They'll love you. Just be... you. Be the Bard I fell in love with, yeah?"

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mimilind · 6 months

Text

Stranger of the Falls - Part 6

Pairing: Boromir x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2400

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

※※※

6. Defense

You twirled a smooth horn between your hands. Boromir had made it from a curved ram’s horn, drilling a hole in it and turning it into a sort of trumpet. Should the enemy approach you would blow it and alert everybody.

You were on the lookout that evening; Boromir had divided the nights into watches and now it was your turn. You sat on a rooftop and observed the deserted plains in the growing darkness.

A few days had passed since the village prepared for war, and the dreary darkness from Mordor had finally disappeared, blown away by a fresh south-west breeze. Nothing had happened yet, and you were hoping it never would. Without the strange darkness to hide them, the orcs probably wouldn’t dare venture this far.

Even if Boromir had a plan, no plan was foolproof.

You wished you knew how the war went, but no news had reached you since you learned about the attack of Cair Andros. It felt like the world was holding its breath, waiting for something – be it good or bad.

It made you restless and nervous.

You heard steps from below and turned to see Maja approaching you. “My mama needs you. It is time!”

You were about to climb down and fetch a replacement lookout when something else caught your attention: a group of people coming running across the southwestern plains. They were far away still, but heading to the village.

No… not people. Orcs! You noticed their crooked swords and axes now.

The sight filled you with cool tendrils of fear. This was it. War. War was upon you!

You remembered the horn and blew it, producing a dull hoot. As you climbed down from your post, you blew and blew and blew, and from all doors around you people came out.

Boromir was among the first to reach you. He looked alert and strangely excited.

“The enemy army is here,” you told him. It came out like a terrified squeak.

He observed the orcs briefly. “No, just a minor band, thirty or so at the most. Raiders perhaps, or deserters. With our precautions we should take them easily.” He turned to Vidar. “Take a lantern and wait for my signal over by the trench. Be sure not to drop it until every orc has crossed.”

You tried to swallow but your throat felt too narrow and too dry. Was this the last time you saw these men? Vidar… and Boromir.

You wanted to tell him to be careful but no longer trusted your voice.

“What about Mama?” Maja asked, pulling at your sleeve. “The child is coming.”

Boromir looked at her, then you. A fierce, crooked grin broke out in his face and he pressed your trembling shoulder encouragingly. “Then you deliver the child and I deal with the orcs. I will be seeing you!”

You nodded. Deliver the baby. That you could do.

As soon as you entered Sigrid’s house you became completely calm. There was a patient needing your help and until she and the baby were safe you had no time to worry about orc attacks.

※

You could not say how much time had passed when you finally laid the wailing infant on her mother’s chest. It had not been an easy birth.

“Thank you,” Sigrid said tiredly. “Damn Torsten for putting this little monster in me and then riding off to war.” She stroked the baby’s damp head. “He thought it was a boy but I knew it would be a girl. When he returns I shall gloat at him that I won.”

Something about the way she said ‘when he returns’ made you want to cry. She did not think he would.

But then you remembered about the orcs and your heartbeat increased. Had Boromir made it?

You ran out. Guttural yells and clangs of steel reached you from beyond the palisade and you ran to the gate, expecting the worst.

You were met by a spectacular sight. A burning ring surrounded the village, sending sparks and bright tongues of fire high into the air. Within the ring lay a litter of dark corpses in the grass, and others hung skewered on the sharp lances along the palisade. Some were still writhing in death throes; Vidar walked among them, grimly beheading anyone moving.

Boromir was chasing two last orcs on Svarten. He sat tall and formidable, driving them before him like Béma the Hunter himself. His face was streaked with soot and his hands covered in black blood.

This was his right element, here in the midst of battle, bravely protecting people.

You had never admired him more.

Desperate to evade the menacing pursuer, the orcs leaped through the fire, but the burning tar stuck on their boots and turned them into living torches.

Svarten easily jumped over the trench and followed them. Two neat sword slashes later and the orcs fell to the ground in reeking piles.

It was over.

※

Other villagers had joined you at the gate, now a loud cheer broke out. He had made it! The village had withstood the attack!

Boromir dismounted. Standing there tall, proud, victorious. Beautiful.

“After tonight, I will no longer call you ‘Främling’,” said Vidar. “You are no stranger to us anymore. Hence, since you still do not remember your name, I say we name you ‘Hjälte’! For, you are a true hero, and we are blessed to have you among us.”

His words were met by an even louder cheer and Boromir graciously bowed. “It was the least I could do after you took me in so generously.”

Everyone then helped put out the fire with buckets of sand and refill the trench with tar in case of new attacks. Like Boromir had said, this had only been a small band. They could be forerunners or scouts from a larger army.

Afterwards, you walked home beside Boromir almost shyly. For the first time, you had seen warrior-him in action. You wanted to hug him and tell him how glad you were that he had survived, but felt too intimidated.

“Thank you for saving us,” you said instead. “The ring of flames was fantastic.”

“It worked better than I had dared hope,” he said proudly. “I got the idea from a place called Moria where I once saw orcs hesitate before a burning chasm. Not one of my best memories, but this time it was helpful.”

Back in the house, you noticed red blood in the water when he cleaned his hands.

“You are hurt,” you said worriedly.

“A mere nick.”

“Let me treat it. There could be poison on their weapons this time also.”

Like the other day, your concern seemed to amuse him, but he obediently sat at the table and held out his hand.

You sat next to him, putting a generous amount of ointment on the cut and binding it neatly.

Still with his hand in yours, you looked at his beautiful face. You could not express your gratitude with words. He saved you; all of you. Maja and her mother, the newborn baby, Vidar, little Kalle, everyone had him to thank for their life.

This handsome, kind, generous man was truly a gift to your people. To you. You had never met anyone like him.

You admired him so much. Held him in such high regard… no. More than that.

You loved him.

Part of what you felt must have shown in your eyes, for Boromir gently eased his hand from yours and rose. “We must get some rest.” But instead of stretching out on the bed, he leaned back in your comfortable chair.

At your surprised look, he explained: “Long have I been imposing on your hospitality. You should have your bed to yourself.“

“I do not mind sharing,” you said earnestly, feeling a lump in your throat. He was pushing you away. Creating a distance.

“You already did so much for me,” he said seriously. “I never even thanked you for saving my life. Twice. First you healed me, and then your faith in me and stubbornness hindered me from taking the cowardly way out. This way is better; I can do some good now. And for that, you shall always have my heartfelt gratitude.”

His words shook you to the core. This way is better.

Did he mean to die in battle?

Now you saw the scene earlier in a new light. Boromir’s excitement before the fight; his heroic charge against over thirty orcs. It was not courage. It was the fearlessness of one who had nothing to lose.

Was he still choosing the cowardly way out, but disguising it as bravery?

You did not say anything of what you were thinking. Instead you tried to hide your dismay and make your voice steady. “I am a healer; it is what I do. Think nothing of it.”

You went to bed, ignoring how large and empty it felt, and exhausted after the long night’s events you fell asleep almost immediately.

※

The next morning, Boromir, Vidar and you went out to gather the orc carcasses, piling them up and setting them on fire. While you were working, a group of riders approached from the same direction the orcs had come. They were Rohirrim!

As they came closer, you felt your heart soar with relief. It was people from your village, as well as the neighboring ones. Jan, Ragnar, Karl, Torsten, all the rest of them. They had survived! Did that mean the war was over?

“Welcome back!” Vidar waved excitedly.

The men looked weary, but relieved when they saw your pyre. “Béma be blessed. We were worried we would find naught but smoking embers like in so many other villages. We have been tracking these orcs for days and found only ruins and homeless refugees in their wake – until now. How did you defeat them?”

You proudly indicated Boromir. “We had help.”

Torsten cut in: “Why, if it is not Lord Främling! You look well. I am glad you made it.”

“He is Lord Hjälte now,” said Vidar.

"Congratulations on becoming a father again, Torsten,” you said.

“The child is born? And everything went well?” He leaped off the horse in a smooth jump. “I have to go see them at once. Was it a son? No, say nothing, I know it was. I have a talent for guessing these things.”

You smiled smugly as he hurried off.

Meanwhile the other riders filled you in with news from the war, at long last. A lot had happened. Théoden King and his riders found their way to Gondor blocked by the orcs at Cair Andros just as Boromir had feared, but got unexpected aid by a people who dwelled in the mountains and took them on a shortcut to Minas Tirith, capital of Gondor, just in time to save the day and help defeating Sauron’s enormous host.

They then described the battle in detail, encouraged by a barrage of questions from Boromir.

There had been many losses and injuries. Théoden King was dead, and his niece Éowyn, who unexpectedly joined the army, was badly hurt. Her brother Éomer would become the new King of Rohan.

Another man who died was Denethor, the Steward of Gondor. Boromir’s father.

“Poor old fellow; they say he lost his mind and burned himself alive, broken with grief after what happened to his sons,” said Ragnar, unaware that one of them was standing right in front of him. “The eldest was killed in battle in the north prior to the war, you see.”

Boromir did not betray any emotions at the news, but you saw his fists clench and his whole stance become rigid.

You wished you could hug him. What a gruesome way for a man to die!

“And the youngest?” His gaze was intent.

“Hurt in battle, but Lord Aragorn healed him. He is greatly improved; they say he will survive.”

Boromir grew visibly less tense. “And what now? You said this mysterious heir to the throne has appeared, this Lord Aragorn. What are his plans? The Dark Lord lives, and although he lost a battle, he will return with renewed force soon enough.”

Ragnar shifted uneasily. “Lord Aragorn is on his way to Mordor. It is a ruse, and he does not expect to survive, but…” He lowered his voice. “There is a secret, powerful item, you see… a ring, they say, a ring of power. It was forged by Sauron a long time ago and if he can get it back he will use it to usurp the entire world. But a brave young halfling is on a secret mission to cast the ring into the fires where it was once wrought. A halfling is–”

“I know what a halfling is.” Boromir had grown very pale.

“Oh. Well, so Lord Aragorn has decided to make this decoy attack to distract the enemy, hence increasing the chances for the halfling to succeed. I know, it sounds impossible, but Aragorn believes it might work, and nearly everyone is following him there.”

“But not you?”

He blushed hotly. “He sent us to free Cair Andros. Us and some others…”

“We were afraid and did not want to die,” Karl cut in. “We have families waiting for us. He saw that and released us. A good man, he is. And a great king, if he survives.”

“We bested the army at Cair Andros,” said Ragnar. “This group we were tracing were the last survivors.”

After exchanging a few more words the men left you, eager to go see their families now that their task was finally over.

Boromir left too, with a curt “I shall take a walk” that made it clear he did not want company.

You looked long after him.

※

That night Boromir moved out of your house. He said he was no longer a patient, and did not want to impose on your hospitality. Therefore he had arranged with Vidar to sleep in his spare room.

Your stomach grew tight; you knew what this was about. He wanted to keep a distance from you, and you were fairly sure it was because he suspected you had feelings for him.

“I am happy for Vidar’s sake,” you said, smiling forcedly. “He has been lonely since his wife passed away.”

“Goodnight then.” He bowed and left.

”Goodnight.”

You went to lie in your empty bed. And then you cried.

※※※

Parts: [ < Previous Part ] [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

#boromir #boromir x reader #boromir fanfiction #boromir x oc #boromir x you #boromir lives au #lotr #lotr fanfiction #lord of the rings #hurt/comfort #healing #heroism #Stranger of the Falls

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cosmic-glow · 6 months

Text

Notes: Invited to spend Halloween night (Samhain) with Bard, he didn't expect it would end with a declaration.

Warnings: Bard x fem!reader; reader gets along well with children; mention of burning; SFW.

It was Samhain day, if it weren't for Bard's invitation you would be in your house eating all the good things your salary allowed you to buy, which wasn't much. But luckily for you, you were now together with the children trying to cut the pumpkins to make lanterns, the task being more difficult than you imagined and making everyone laugh. You were too focused on trying to draw a smile on the pumpkin to notice Bard looking at you with a discreet smile on his face. The children adored you, and the feeling was reciprocal because even if they weren't your children you would die for them. You knew that life in Lake City wasn't easy, every day you woke up early to work and got home late at night, but even so you were kind to the children, never taking away their hopes of having a better life one day. And with each passing day, Bard's admiration for you grew.

- Okay, everyone finished? On three, everyone shows how it turned out... 1..2..3!

At the same time, the children who were sitting in a circle around you turned the pumpkins with you and the room was filled with laughter once again when they saw the result of the lanterns. Some had missing teeth, one eye bigger than the other and crooked smiles, it was a disaster and that's why they were perfect. When they managed to recover from the laughing fit, you turned to Bard, your cheeks still red from laughing so much.

- Can you get us some candles, Bard? We have to put up these lanterns to ward off the spirits before nightfall - you joked placing your pumpkin in front of your face, a crooked smile and cross-eyed eyes staring back at him.

- I think you outdid yourselves this year, this will be the most protected house in the city during the night of Samhain - he laughed - I'll be right back with the candles.

As promised, Bard didn't take long to return with the candles and handed one each and you a matchbox. You promptly placed the candle at the bottom of the pumpkin and lit the match to light the candle, teaching the children, but when you held the match at an angle in the small space to light the wick, the flame grew and burned the tip of your finger. The response was automatic, pulling your hand away and letting out an "Ouch!" before extinguishing the match. Hearing, Bard turned and walked over to you when he saw what had happened.

- Are you fine? Let me see - he carefully took your hand and checked the burn - Luckily it's nothing serious, wash it with water and bandage it, help her Sigrid, I'll turn on the flashlights - he smiled to calm you down.

When the lanterns were lit and placed in the windows and you had already wrapped your finger in a piece of cloth, you went with the girls to the kitchen to finish preparing the Samhain feast, with sweet breads, cakes and other treats. Bain wasn't there because he's a disaster in the kitchen. Taking advantage of the privacy of being alone with his father in the living room, Bain broached the subject.

- You like her, right?

- Who? - Bard asked, suddenly caught.

- Her, dad - the boy pointed discreetly to the kitchen - I noticed how you look at her.

- Y/n? No, the only woman I've ever loved was your mother and you know it - he sat back in his chair to get away from the subject.

- It's okay if you like her, dad. She's cool, Sigrid and Tilda like her too... And if she makes you happy you have to tell her soon, it's not like you're the only suitor.

- What? - Bard frowned.

But before his son could say anything else, Tilda entered the room to call them to dinner. You thanked, ate and laughed amid conversations, Bain's advice not leaving the archer's head throughout dinner. After they were done and everything was cleaned and put away, you helped Bard put the children to sleep by telling them stories. When they fell asleep and you turned out the candles in the room, the two of you left. The silence seemed thicker, which found you strange, the atmosphere between you didn't used to be like this. You absentmindedly looked out the window.

- The sky is beautiful today... You can see all the stars.

- Do you want to go out to see better?

- I’d love to - you smiled.

The wind outside was cold, the night was calm and silent, the clear dark sky filled with stars like thousands of fireflies, the sound of crickets in the distance. You sat on the steps of the house stairs and Bard sat next to you. He remained silent for a while, thinking about how to tell what was weighing on his mind. It was true that you were the only one in the city that Bard considered a true friend, that he felt comfortable around and could forget about his problems for a moment when you smiled. Deep down he knew he liked you, but he felt guilty about it, he shouldn't fall in love again, he had already gotten married and he had sworn to himself that he would never get married again after he lost his wife, he couldn't handle feeling the pain again. Besides, now he had children to raise, what woman would have a relationship with a man who is already the father of three children? But you didn't seem to care about any of that, you took care of the children and always helped him, they loved you and now he did too. The man called your name breaking you out of your trance.

- There's something I need to tell you.

- You can talk, Bard.

- I wanted to thank you for everything you've done for the children, for our friendship, it's good to have someone to trust.

- I think I was the one who should be saying that, inviting me to spend the night with you and the children, helping me when I needed it most, I'm happy that you consider me so much - you smiled.

- I don't know how to say this, but - he adjusted his posture, nervously - the children like you so much and so do I that I would like to know if you don't want to... stay with us forever? - you blinked your eyes at him.

- Like what...?

- I would love for you to be my wife, Y/n - he found the courage to say - I understand if you don't want to, if you think it's too much responsibility because of the children or - you silenced him by sealing your lips with a kiss that surprised him , but he soon reciprocated, the desire warming you both on that cold night.

- You don't know how many times I dreamed about this - you smiled at him.

Bard also smiled, after all, since you met, your smile always made him feel better.

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

October Calendar;

Masterlist

#bard x reader #bard x fem!reader #bard oneshot #bard imagine #bard drabble #bard headcanons #bard hobbit #bard fanfic #hobbit fanfic #hobbit oneshot #hobbit imagine #hobbit x reader #lotr x reader #lotr fanfic #lotr oneshot

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iwritetopassthetime · 1 year

Text

home to you (1/9)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x fem!reader

PROLOGUE // Masterlist // Next chapter

Wordcount: 3.8K

Summary: When two people are meant to be together, fate will always find a way to bring them to each other. It's just that sometimes it's not under the normal-est of circumstances. But a flower that blooms in adversity is the rarest and most beautiful of all, and Bradley will be ready to go through anything for the love of his Blossom.

Warnings: some Bradley and Amelia brother/sister fluff, mentions of terminal illness, mentions of death, mentions of grief, Bradley has a lot of feelings, themes of abuse/domestic violence

Song inspiration: Home to you by Sigrid

When you're waitin' for a voice to come

In the night, but there's no one

A-don't you feel like a-cryin'?

Don't you feel like cryin'?

A-don't you feel like a-c-cry, c-cry, c-cry-cry

Cry, c-cry, c-cry-cry, cryin’?

Bradley bobbed his head like the bird he was nicknamed after as he belted the last lines to Cry to Me. He had wanted to test the new sound system in the Bronco on his way from base to Penny’s… and possibly annoy every 16-something brat blaring DJ Khaled in their dad’s BMW M5. So far he’d passed at least three of those types. The satisfaction he got from the boys’ annoyed, little pimply faces was the reason he decided to keep the hood down even though it was a surprisingly cool evening for mid-May.

Despite the chill in the air, it was still a pleasant enough evening. The sky was awash with dark pinks that transformed into purple and navy blue the further up you turned your gaze. A thin line of light lingered on the horizon where the sun had dipped over minutes ago, making this the perfect time for a walk, a drive, and especially for a barbecue in Penny’s backyard.

Her and Maverick had made that a weekly occurrence since the mission, inviting Bradley over since he was stationed on North Island for the time being along with the rest of his new squadron. They would sit on the old picnic table in Penny’s backyard with burgers, and grilled veggies, and cold beers that she’d picked up from the Hard Deck after closing for the night. And Bradley would usually bring a starter or a side dish. The bowl of potato salad that he’d pledged for tonight was wrapped in cling film on the passenger seat.

The beginning notes to Boogie Wonderland were suddenly interrupted by Bradley’s phone ringing in its dashboard holder. The obnoxious ringtone that Amelia had picked — and Bradley couldn’t change — mixed with the disco anthem in a horrific remix; thank god for the red light ahead so Bradley could stop and pause the music to take the call.

Maverick’s name was above a picture of him giving the camera thumbs up from the cockpit of his P-51 Mustang. The edge of Penny’s helmeted head poked from the edge of the screen. It was a picture that Bradley himself had taken after he and his godfather finished putting it together before Maverick’s test-flight-slash-joy-ride with Penny.

‘Hey, Mav!’ Bradley called after pressing the answer button and putting the call to speaker. ‘I’m on my way now. Is there anything else you guys need?’

‘Rooster, uh…’ Maverick’s voice sounded uncharacteristically unsure as he began and it gave Bradley pause. He immediately clicked the indicator for a right turn, opting to take a shortcut through Penny’s neighbourhood instead of going the usual way. If this was an emergency, he had to get to the house ASAP.

‘What’s happened?’ He asked worriedly.

‘Penny and I have to go to Los Angeles. It’s urgent.’

‘Is Penny okay?’

‘Yeah— no, she’s fine. It’s uh… it’s something else. Bradley, can you come and stay with Amelia for the night. I don’t know how long we’ll be and…’

‘You got it, Mav.’ Bradley stepped on the pedal as soon as the light switched to yellow. Whatever the situation was it merited some degree of alarm. He tried elevating some of the tension. ‘You know Amelia is not the type to need a babysitter?’

Maverick huffed, ‘Yeah, yeah. She told us as much. But she likes having you around and you two can catch up on whichever TV show you’ve been watching lately.’

‘That’ll be Friends. We’ll just have to finish the potato salad on our own, too I guess.’

There was a pause on Maverick’s side of the line as they supposedly got in the car and started speeding away from the house. Bradley heard him muttering something to Penny. Her voice — although Bradley couldn’t detect what she was saying — sounded high-pitched and worried. It struck him as extremely odd how the usually chipper and confident owner of the Hard Deck sounded on edge, even downright panicked.

‘Penny and I are sorry for having to skip on tonight. It’s just that—’

‘Mav, there’s no need to explain,’ Bradley stopped him. ‘We’ll postpone to next week or whenever you guys are available. Whatever this is… comes first. Alright?’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ Bradley heard the door slam on the other end and figured they must already be leaving the driveway. ‘I’ll drop you a line when we get to Los Angeles.’

‘Thanks! I’ll take Ames for pancakes tomorrow morning, is that alright with you and Pen?’

Maverick seemed to pull the phone back so he could relay the question. Bradley heard Penny give an affirmative reply although her voice still sounded emotionally distant. ‘Yeah, she’s cool with that. Just nothing with nuts, unless you have her EpiPen at the ready.’

‘Got it! I’m nearing Pen’s driveway now, I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Yeah… see ya, Rooster.’

Maverick was the first to hang up and the silence lingered for a few moments before Bradley turned into Penny’s driveway, his headlights illuminating Amelia’s figure huddled on the front porch. He grabbed the bowl of potato salad from the passenger seat before getting out, then jogged up the pebbled walkway and the short flight of stairs to get to the teen.

‘Hey, Ames! Looks like I’ll be your babysitter for the night.’ Bradley tackled her in a bear hug, one arm squeezing her to him and the other keeping a steady hold on the ceramic bowl.

With her free hand Amelia pointed a finger to her mouth and feigned gagging at that which ultimately made both of them laugh. Bradley released her and handed her the potato salad. Amelia grinned wider and licked her lips like a cartoon wolf when she greedily grabbed the bowl.

‘Pop that in the fridge, squirt!’

‘Nuh-uh!’ She cradled the bowl. ‘We’re sharing this while we finish season four. I want to know if Rachel gets to Ross’s wedding on time.’

Bradley chuckled; he knew he really shouldn’t be spoiling anything, especially not about those last two episodes in particular, but half the time it was just too hard. Part of the magic of introducing Amelia to Friends was enjoying her unadulterated first-watch reactions to the classic sitcom. And it also meant that she’d understand some of the pop culture references he made on a daily basis.

Bradley shut the door behind him and followed Amelia into the house. He toed off his Timbs and placed them neatly on the shoe rack. He made his way into the kitchen where Amelia was fishing in the utensil cupboard for a pair of forks.

‘Hey, Ames?’

‘Yeah?’ She said between two big mouthfuls of potato salad.

‘Do you know why Mav and Penny are driving up to LA.’ He was quick to add, ‘It’s alright if it’s a personal matter and they told you not to tell me.’ He leaned against the granite island and bit the inside of his cheek. ‘I just wanna know if it’s something serious.’

Amelia nodded, swallowing down before speaking. ‘Yeah, they didn’t tell me much either.’ She pursed her lips in deep thought as she took a seat on one of the nautical style stools across from Bradley. ‘Mom got a call when Maverick and I finished cooking the burgers— Oh! By the way, there are burgers in the fridge, if ya want any!’

‘I’ll keep that in mind, Ames.’

‘Right so… mom got really serious all of a sudden. She sounded… really worried, and her voice got all high and pitchy which I’ve heard only once and that was when I got a severe allergic reaction. She told Maverick that she needed to get to Los Angeles as soon as possible. Something about the daughter of a friend of hers being in trouble.’

Bradley nodded along to her retelling of the events. He then gave the teen an uplifting smile. ‘Well, let’s hope it’s nothing serious. How ‘bout we put on the show now before you get a food coma and pass out on the couch like last time.’

‘Hardy har har!’ Amelia jumped down from the stool and snatched the bowl from the countertop before Bradley could take it. ‘This is mine now, jerk face.’

‘Hey! I made it, so it’s at least fifty percent mine, smartass!’

In the end, the two spread out in two opposite directions on the couch with the potato salad placed between them. Their forks were moving in a repetitive motion from the inside of the bowl to their open mouths as the two watched Friends.

It was Amelia’s newest favourite TV series, Bradley had grown up it with it. He had binged it with his mum when he was little and then again around the time when she got really sick and he wanted to lift her spirits.

It always felt bitter-sweet watching it after Carole’s death, being reminded of those moments he wished he could relive with her. Now, it meant spending time with Amelia, forming new memories, something he found he enjoyed since his stationing on North Island and his unofficial inclusion into this family.

It had been a mere month since the mission, since his and Maverick’s reconciliation, since Maverick and Penny’s decision to give their twenty-something year long on-and-off relationship another go. And in that time, seemingly so much had happened. The weekly barbecue, evenings at the Hard Deck, weekends at the beach. Amongst all those interactions, Bradley and Amelia struck up a friendship that quickly developed into something akin to an older brother-younger sister relationship.

Amelia was happy to have someone around when her mum was out of the house “relighting the fire with her old flame”. Someone who was willing to get on her level without patronising her. And Bradley, who had spent his entire life without any siblings or cousins, was happy to have something of a little sister in Amelia.

Some time after finishing the season finale and moving onto the next season, Amelia checked her phone to find a general lack of messages of any sort from her mum. ‘You’d think they reached LA by now.’

Bradley patted her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry about that now. They could be stuck in traffic. Mav will text me when they reach your mom’s friend.’

‘I’m not being unreasonable in being worried, right?’

‘Of course not, Ames!’

‘And you’re sure Maverick will text you.’

‘He definitely will.’

‘Okay,’ Amelia switched her positioning, grabbing a cushion and placing it against Bradley to use it and him as a head rest. ‘It’s just… I don’t like seeing mom worried. I’m used to her being the cool-headed woman she always is, the one that my friends at school are jealous of. And I can’t help her.’

‘Amelia, you’re fourteen.’ Bradley softly reminded her. ‘You should remember that from time to time. I know you’d rather grow up fast and help you mom. Even boss her around.’

Amelia laughed at that.

‘But I know from experience that trying to grow up too quickly will worry your mom more. She’ll want you to stay her child for a while longer and take care of you. So enjoy it, you’ll have all the time in the world to take care of her later.’

‘Just have to wait till eighteen, I guess.’

Bradley laughed good-naturedly, he knew there was no point arguing further if Amelia had reached a conclusion. He’d do better to argue with a brick wall.

Sometime around the middle of the fifth season of the show, Amelia had fallen asleep — just as Bradley had predicted — with a belly full of potato salad and her arm loosely wrapped around the now empty bowl.

Bradley made sure she wouldn’t startle if he moved it out of her grasp to put away. Once he had the sofa cleared and the TV turned off, he carefully sneaked his arms underneath Amelia’s huddled form — one under her back and the other under the backs of her knees — and picked her up.

He carried the teen to her room, gently kicking the door to open it. He put Amelia down on the bed, making sure to tuck her in with the massive fluffy blanket she had laying at the foot, seeing as he couldn’t pull the duvet without eventually disturbing her.

Once he’d made sure she’d be fine, Bradley left the bedroom, his retreat only followed by the soft click of the door closing behind him. He went back to the kitchen, intending to clean the salad bowl when his phone vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans. Bradley fished it out and saw that he had two messages from Maverick.

Mav: Sorry, I forgot to text when we arrived.

Mav: Everything’s okay, we might not be back till the morning.

Bradley opened his phone to see the grey ellipsis at the bottom of their chat. He waited a few seconds when a third message appeared.

Mav: We gotta take Penny’s friend’s daughter to the hospital and then to the police.

Mav: Don’t worry. I’ll explain more tomorrow.

Bradley’s brows furrowed at the last two messages. It obviously wasn’t all okay like Maverick said, otherwise they wouldn’t have to take that friend’s daughter to the hospital and the police. He contemplated phoning Maverick out of worry, but resined himself to just wait until the morning for him and Penny to come back.

If things were as serious as he believed them to be then calling Maverick to just pester him with questions like a worried mother hen wouldn’t be helpful at all.

Instead Bradley replied with a few short lines, letting his godfather know that he understood and to let Penny know that Amelia went asleep alright after finishing half a bowl of potato salad. After few seconds Maverick responded with a laughing face sticker which effectively seemed to end their correspondence for the night.

Bradley went back to washing the salad bowl, leaving it on the drying rack when he was done. He then grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked out onto the back porch to enjoy the peace and quiet of the neighbourhood.

Just beyond the relatively short back fence, Bradley could watch the dark expanse of the ocean the waves of which lapped at the shore with a repetitive hum. The nature choir of cicadas, crickets and the early summer breeze prevailed over the distant noise of the city beyond the confines of this fairly peaceful corner of San Diego.

Penny’s backyard wasn’t much to be fair, she’d even said it herself once two weeks ago during the barbecue. The grass was uneven and displayed the usual signs of being burnt by the near constant California sun. Off to the side there were flat stones organised into flower patch borders without any flowers behind them save for one overgrown rosemary bush near the back stairs. And the picnic table sat close to the porch. Penny said that she just never came around to hiring someone to give it some major TLC. But goddamn — the view was what made that backyard so special.

Bradley continued staring off into the distance, periodically bringing the bottle to his lips to sip on the bitter drink. For a moment he felt the acute sting of loneliness deep in his chest as even the insects chirps dulled down and silence overtook him. The sting planted roots in his chest and started to grow until it pretty much occupied his thoughts.

He had something resembling a family which included his friends from the squadron — even Hangman, on very good days — but he couldn’t help but feel the want for something more, for someone.

It’s not like it’d be hard for him to date, there were plenty of women in the area if his former Hinge profile was to be believed. But he didn’t wasn’t a meaningless fling or a one-night stand. He wanted someone to have, to care for. Someone to love. For god’s sake, he was thirty-six! Shouldn’t these things get easier with time? Mav and Penny certainly had no problem.

Bradley thought about his mother at thirty-six, just a year shy of her terminal diagnosis. She never even reached forty. Hadn’t gotten whites in her hair, nor wrinkles and age spots. Hadn’t gotten to properly live her life since she became a single mother at twenty-five.

But she’d had someone, she had Nick “Goose” Bradshaw and she still had him after his death if her stories were to be believed. Stories she told Bradley when he was younger about how she could still feel him with her. That he never truly left her.

As he grew older, Rooster began to understand that those were her ways of explaining it all to him and handling her grief which never left her either. Instead it lingered like a pestering relative that hadn’t got the cue to leave. And once Carole was gone and buried with Goose in their family plot, that same grief latched onto Bradley, too.

And in those moments when he felt well and truly alone, Bradley wished he had asked his mother more about how she pulled through it all. How she managed to lose someone so important to her and still carry on with living.

Around the time of her death, Bradley was filled with so much rage and confusion. Maverick pulling his papers at the Academy only seemed to fuel that rage. Bradley sped through his twenties, never really having a proper relationship, never settling down like many of his colleagues. He knew of love, he loved his mother and he sure as hell loved his friends. But he never found someone to love in that very particular way that doesn’t compare to any other love.

Carole had once promised him that; that he would find someone that would make him as happy as Goose made her. Don’t you worry your little head about when and where, it will happen and that’s a fact, she’d softly told him once when he’d childishly pestered her about not having a girlfriend in pre-school.

But at thirty-six, Bradley still hadn’t found that person, that love that did not compare to others. You could call it impatience, but what truly plagued him was the loneliness. The emptiness he felt after every mission and deployment when he had no one to come back and hold on to.

With a familiar heaviness in his chest, Bradley went to have another sip of the beer only to feel a single drop trickle down the neck of the bottle and onto his lips. He took one final look at the peaceful landscape before going back inside, leaving his self-deprecating train of thought on the steps to the backyard.

Bradley, being not that deep of a sleeper, was shaken awake by the sound of Penny’s jeep pulling up to the house. He instantly sat up on the couch, rubbing his face and the sleep from his eyes. There was a knot in his back from the uncomfortable position he slept in, but he was unwilling to let that bother him right now. Although he lamented that he hadn’t taken the bed in the guest bedroom instead.

It was early in the morning. Not so early as to be still dark outside, but early enough to feel like he was back at the Academy and was rising at first light for training.

The front door opened with a subtle click and creak. Bradley could hear Penny saying something to Maverick, then to someone else and he assumed that they were accompanied by whoever they’d gone to help in LA. He impatiently treaded over the living room carpet, before deciding to go into the kitchen and make coffee for everybody. Penny and Maverick had had a long night and a pick-me-up would do them good.

Bradley was about to put in the coffee pot in Penny’s coffee maker when Maverick walked in the kitchen, his feet dragging along the floor until he reached the island and dropped into a barstool.

‘Did we wake you?’ Maverick asked tiredly.

Bradley turned around once the machine started buzzing and a steady stream of coffee started dripping into the pot. ‘Don’t worry ‘bout me. I was practically already awake. You good?’

Maverick rubbed his face and Bradley took notice of the haunted look in his godfather’s eyes. They were dark and troubled like they’d seen more in one night than they were prepared to. Bradley turned off the coffee machine once it was done and pulled the three cups from the cupboard above his head, placing them on the counter and pouring equal amounts into each one.

Maverick didn’t wait for Bradley to offer him milk or sugar and downed half of the steaming coffee. Really not good then, Bradley thought with worry. He went around the kitchen island and sat next to his godfather, quietly sipping on his own coffee and waiting for him to speak whenever he was ready to.

‘I don’t think I can talk in detail about last night right now, but I… I need to ask you a favour.’

‘Shoot.’

Maverick looked towards the door to the corridor, probably waiting to see if Penny would walk through. But she was most likely still upstairs.

‘Penny’s friend’s daughter… we brought her here, couldn’t leave her in LA. She has no one,’ Maverick explained.

Bradley nodded along.

‘The favour I want to ask from you is… well, I might be asking too much of you. Can you hang around the house for a few days? Penny and I think she could use a friend right now and you’re… about the same age. You might be able to help her more than we do.’

Bradley simply nodded. He couldn’t think of anything to ask but her name which Maverick quietly supplied.

The older man continued drinking his coffee and the two sat in silence for a while.

‘It’s not my place to talk about her affairs.’ Maverick broke the silence. ‘But she was in a… very physical argument with her ex-boyfriend. Managed to get away at some point and call Penny. She was so frightened, she didn’t even want to go to the police. Penny and I didn’t know what to do,’ he mumbled more to himself than to anyone else, eyes still horribly lost.

Bradley inhaled sharply. Although he knew nothing more than the girl’s name, he felt a twinge of anger at the thought of any sort of abuse befalling her. Someone might say his mum raised him properly, Bradley would argue that he was just a decent human being.

‘I’ll do my best, Mav.’

Maverick finally looked up towards Bradley, his upper lip curling in a semblance of a smile and some of the light returned to his eyes. With a heavy sigh, he patted his godson on the shoulder, thanking him for his help. The two then returned to their state of quiet while sipping on their coffee.

Next chapter

(Taglist is open and I've made a Google Docs form to make it easier)

tags: ...

#home to you #iwritetopassthetime #Bradley Bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw

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