Sunghoon Oneshot - Blog Posts

⋆｡°✩ just a little bite ✦ park sunghoon

you can't just contain it can you? biting onto something so forbidden ... god fucking dammit forbid your lover has meaty guns for arms holy fuck

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park sunghoon x male!reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — fluff, then suddenly suggestive, implied male!reader down bad for sunghoon, cuddles, intentions to fuck but we'll see, you see i wrote this just looking at sunghoon's arms, and y'all wanted it okay !!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — erm the urge to hold this man down because his arms are fucking thick what the fuck

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 1.2k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ looking for my main masterlist? — here's the legacy one!

The low hum of the television is a distant murmur, barely registering beneath the weight of Sunghoon’s presence beside you.

The documentary plays on—some sweeping shot of Arctic tundra, glaciers groaning under their own weight—but the screen might as well be static for all you care.

Because Sunghoon is warm.

Not just warm—radiant, like the sun itself had curled up next to you on the couch instead. He’d come home later than usual, hair still damp from the shower, smelling faintly of that body wash you always tease him for buying.

It’s ridiculous how good it smells on him. Like something expensive and forbidden, clinging to his skin long after he’s stepped out of the steam.

And now here he is, in that tank top—that specific one, the one you know he wears on purpose because it clings to every dip and curve of his shoulders, the fabric thin from too many washes, nearly translucent where it stretches over his chest. His arms are bare, his skin still flushed from the heat of his shower, and when he’d pulled you against him without a word, you hadn’t even pretended to resist.

How could you? This was your lover we’re talking about. Your warmth itself.

His arm is heavy around your own, slowly tracing down with his fingers tracing absent circles into your hip. You can feel the flex of his forearm every time he shifts, the muscle tightening unconsciously as he adjusts his grip.

Your cheek rests against his bicep, and the warmth of his skin seeps into yours, slow and syrupy.

Your body molds to his effortlessly, your head finding its usual spot against his bicep, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his thigh. Sunghoon hums, content, his arm tightening around your waist as the documentary drones on in the background.

You can hear his breathing, steady and deep, but when you glance up, his eyes are already on you—dark, amused, knowing.

He’s not really paying attention either.

Because you—you were staring.

He can feel it—the weight of your gaze, the way your fingers flex against his leg, the quiet, hitched breaths you think he doesn’t notice. Sunghoon smirks to himself, tilting his head just enough to catch the way your eyes linger on the curve of his arm, the way your teeth worry at your bottom lip.

Cute.

"You’re not even watching," Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low, rough at the edges like he’s been laughing too hard at practice. His thumb strokes over your abdomen, deliberate, and you swear he presses just a little harder when your breath catches.

You hum, pretending to consider the screen. "Polar bears," you say, deadpan. "Very educational."

A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest, and you feel it where you’re tucked against him, the vibration of it sinking into your ribs.

"Liar," he accuses, but there’s no heat in it—just that familiar fondness, the one that makes your stomach flip. "I’ll melt if you keep looking at me like that."

You could deny it. You should deny it.

He expects you to deny it, to swat at him, to roll your eyes and call him cocky—but instead, you press your lips to the inner seams of his arm—just a brush, barely there.

A soft, pliant kiss upon his silken complexion.

Sunghoon goes still, his fingers twitching against your side.

Your mouth is warm, soft, and when your teeth graze over his skin—just the barest hint of pressure—his breath catches, his fingers twitching against your side.

"Ticklish?" you tease, your voice muffled against his skin.

His exhale is shaky. "Y-you know I’m not."

But you do know.

You know the way his breath stutters when you touch him like this, the way his pulse jumps under your lips when you linger just a second too long. You know the way his grip tightens when he’s trying not to pull you closer.

So you do it again—this time, letting your teeth graze lightly, just to hear the sharp inhale he tries to stifle.

Sunghoon jolts, his arm flexing instinctively under your mouth. His grip on your hip tightens, fingers digging in just enough to make your stomach swoop.

You pull back just enough to meet his gaze, and his eyes are dark, his lips parted, his chest rising just a little too fast.

“I felt your teeth right there …”

"Sorry," you say, not sorry at all.

Sunghoon exhales, slow, his free hand coming up to tangle in your hair, fingertips scratching lightly at your scalp. "You’re mean," he mutters, but his voice is thick, rough around the edges.

"First you ignore the documentary, then you come kiss me and bite me—"

You do it again. Harder.

This time, his breath catches, a quiet, punched-out sound escaping him.

Sunghoon flinches, his whole body jerking beneath you—muscles tensing, breath hitching—and before you can even process it, his grip slips. Just barely, just enough to send you both tumbling off the couch in a tangle of limbs, landing in a heap on the floor.

The fall knocks the air from your lungs, but you barely feel it. Not when you’re half on top of him, your chest pressed flush against his, your face burning, your pulse hammering in your throat like it’s trying to escape.

Sunghoon blinks up at you, dazed, his lips slightly parted, his dark hair mussed from the fall.

The dim glow from the TV flickers across his face, catching the curve of his cheekbone, the faint sheen on his lower lip where he’d bitten it earlier.

And then he laughs—soft and breathless, his chest shaking beneath yours, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt like he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

“You—” He lifts a hand, rubbing at the faint red mark you’ve left on his bicep, his grin lazy, molten. “You marked me.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry. “Didn’t mean to.”

“Liar,” he says again, but there’s no bite to it—just that same rough-edged fondness, the kind that makes your stomach tighten. His fingers trail up your spine, slow and deliberate, sending shivers skittering across your skin. “You’ve been eye-fucking my arms since I came out of the bathroom.”

You could argue.

Instead, you press your lips to the mark again—lingering this time, letting your tongue dart out to soothe the sting, just to feel the way his breath stutters.

And in an unprecedented fashion, you travel your lips damply onto his arms—guiding it thoroughly until your reach collarbone, his jaw, and eventually, his parted lips.

Sunghoon shudders, his fingers tightening in your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath catch. “Fuck,” he whispers, his voice rougher now, darker. “Do that again.”

So you do—this time with teeth.

He gasps, his hips jerking beneath you, and suddenly his hand is on your waist, flipping you over with barely any effort, pressing you into the floor.

All he had was a dominating form on top of your waist, his chest heaving, and his pupils blown so wide his irises are nearly swallowed by black.

“You,” he breathes, leaning down until his lips brush against yours—close enough that you can taste the mint on his tongue, the sweetness of the energy drink he’d gulped down earlier.

“—are dangerous.”

You grin up at him, your fingers tracing the lines of his arms, the swell of his biceps, the way his muscles tense under your touch. “You love it.”

Sunghoon exhales, shaky, his nose bumping against yours. “Yeah,” he admits, voice rough.

“I do.”

And then he kisses you—deep and passionate, his tongue sliding against yours, his hands gripping your chest down to your shoulders, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

His body presses you into the floor, solid and unyielding, and you pull him down closer without thinking, chasing the heat of his skin, feeling his tantalizing weight gripping you down tightly.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are red, his breathing uneven.

“More …” he murmurs, his thumb swiping over your bottom lip, smudging the wetness there.

“Please…”

And you don’t even argue.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — ASKFJKAJSFKLAE!!! yes im a freak for his arms bro have you seen?! him !? flexing it?! ever since i saw him being all proud of it since paradox i was like … fuck you have GOT to be kidding me WHAT THE HELL!! so yeah, here it is … me just writing how it owuld feel to just .. have this man like be with you so warm like RAAAAA and it won the poll so don't judge me YOU'RE THE SAME !?!

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ a table for two, and sunflowers too

sometimes, healing isn’t a grand gesture—it’s sunflowers from a soft-spoken boy who believes in second chances.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ pairing — park sunghoon x reader

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ tags — sad to fluff, generally gn reader, sunghoon x reader, finding love after a breakup, silent boy sunghoon, healing bit by bit, blind date, slighty love at first sight, more to come!

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ warning + notes — kinda wrote this first as implied male reader, but i didn't really put any male pronouns HAHA, was listening to winner takes it all and read several prompts, plus the music felt really gutwrenching and so thanks for that, author's interpretation of the people in this fic might not reflect them irl~

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ word count — 0.8k

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ updated unsorted masterlist coming soon — here's the legacy one!

The world had faded into a monotonous gray since the breakup.

You moved through your days like a ghost, burdened by the stress of work, the fatigue of insomnia, and the empty coffee cups piling up on your bedroom desk—each one a relic of a life you no longer recognized.

The split hadn’t merely ended a relationship; it had erased the version of yourself that once believed in good things.

You couldn't believe that you fell for someone who made you lower your expectations. Was this what love had to be? A constant struggle to compensate for another's flaws? It was a harsh realization, yet you didn’t want to blame the other person. You never wanted to taint their memory in your mind, but the pain lingered like a shadow that wouldn’t leave.

Friends tiptoed around your grief, their pitying glances a constant reminder that you were now the "sad friend," the one who wore melancholy like a second skin.

You felt utterly ... pathetic.

Flopping over your large bed, you heard the light buzz of your phone. Flipping it open amid the dimly lit room, you saw a message from your overly enthusiastic friend.

"Got you a date! Tomorrow. 5 PM. 7th Street Cafe. He’s sweet. Take the chance!”

You lingered, casting a heavy gaze on your screen, your finger hovering above the delete button. Yet a part of you—one that craved to feel anything again—won this time.

Hope, irritation, curiosity—these emotions bubbled to the surface, and you hesitantly decided to accept the invitation.

Maybe this time ... maybe you were ready again.

˚ ⋆ . ˚ . ★ ⋆ .

The noise of the city blurred into the background of your mind as you walked mindlessly through a sea of pedestrians, each person living life as it was intended.

Approaching the cozy café, nestled just beyond the street sign, you paused for a moment. Taking a small breath, your feet unwittingly dragged you toward the entrance of the establishment.

Inside, the café was warm, a comforting contrast to the melancholic grays outside that dripped with the fresh kiss of rainfall. You lingered at your spot, only hearing your heart throbbing in your ears.

What are you even doing here? A last-minute thought crawled into your mind. In this moment of doubt, you realized you’d forgotten how to be someone worth meeting.

And then you saw him.

A tall guy sat near the cafe window, an old sketchbook open in front of him, fingers smudged with charcoal.

He wasn’t striking in the way that demanded attention; he was … soft. Welcoming, with a sense of just the right gentleness in your eyes.

He wore an almost fluffy comfy white sweater, his hair tousled as if he’d run a hand through it to get a quick fix moments ago.

His eyes were downcast as he scribbled, but when he finally glanced up and saw you, his smile unfurled like the break of dawn.

“Hi,” he said, standing too quickly and nearly knocking over his mug. A warm, unguarded laugh escaped him. “H-Hi! I… brought these.”

From beneath the table, he revealed a bouquet of sunflowers, their bold, golden petals contrasting sharply with the muted café and your frayed sweater, somehow defying the storm that brewed in your chest.

"For you ..." He offered with a shy smile.

“F-flowers on the first date, huh?” you croaked, your throat tight.

“Yeah,” he replied, rubbing his neck, suddenly shy. “People say bringing flowers on the first date is overrated and boring, but I disagree."

Unknowingly, a smile crept onto your lips.

He was gentle, yet there was an air of confidence about him — he genuinely wanted to make a connection.

“Sunflowers are stubborn, you know? They grow even in bad soil. Kinda… kinda like people, I guess.”

˚ ⋆ . ˚ . ★ ⋆ .

"And that's how they saw you?" You spoke, coming in as enthusiatic as you could.

"Yeah!" He spoke, his tone as giddy as his story. "Park Sunghoon. My name, written all over the screen!"

"Ugh ... to have such silly friends, am I right?" He nodded, agreeing with you.

You talked. Or rather, he talked — about his close friends, his fascination with charcoal art, his obsession with indie films, and his silly dog who had it out for his houseplants.

You listened, startled by how his voice anchored you, how the flowers in your lap seemed to radiate warmth into your bones. His enthusiasm made you forget that this was your first date together.

He felt like an old song playing softly on the radio, a familiar breeze you were willing to feel on your skin.

When silence fell, it wasn’t heavy. He tilted his head, studying you. “You’re allowed to not be okay, you know? But… I’m glad you came.”

Something cracked then — not a collapse, but a thaw.

You laughed, shaky but real.

He reached for his sketchbook, tearing a page from it — a beautifully drawn bouquet of sunflowers, folded into fourths and placed under your palm.

“Keep this."

"Hmm?"

"It's ... proof I’m not a total stranger anymore.”

You smiled, seeing him talk to you so openly.

In your trance, you never noticed how the sunset tore through the windows, illuminating the room with a golden glow.

The rain had finally stopped, and the sun was setting on the distant horizon, casting a warm light over everything.

˚ ⋆ . ˚ . ★ ⋆ .

The night ended with a stroll under the streetlights, the bouquet cradled in your arms, its vibrant colors a stark contrast to the shadows of your past.

You didn’t kiss, didn’t make promises. But when you got home, you placed the sunflowers in a vase, their faces turned toward the window where the moonlight peeked through.

For the first time in months, you dreamed of something other than what had been lost.

For the first time, you looked forward to what was yet to come.

EN—D

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖✦⋆˚ kai's notes — like i said, was really inspired by those tiktoks and prompts about breakups, then having some ideas about finding new love after what seems to be a dump of sadness and gloom. personally experienced that too but, life goes on! if you ever feel sad, just know that there are people around you. let them know and they'll help you out. you've got help, even if you feel like you don't. stay strong!

my masterlist! | made by writhyv 💘

⋆｡°✩ you were always in his heart

unsorted | park sunghoon x male!reader

pairing: sunghoon x male!reader genre: fluff !! words: 3.1k notes: have you ever had that one person in your past that you just never forgot? what if they went out and looked for you??? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA just knew this trope for almost all the fandoms i've been but not here?? atleast for male readers?? so i had to do it to em!! LOL

"Want this pack of chips I've got?" You offered the silent boy a small pack of cheese-flavored chips, looking at him with a bright smile on your face. The playful glint in your eyes seemed to lighten the mood of the cramped elevator.

"Uhm..." He muttered, clearly unsure what to do with it, his gaze darting back and forth as if searching for an escape route from the awkwardness.

"Don't worry!" You shook the pack in front of him, the crinkling sound breaking the silence. "It's not that cheesy! But it is tasty, hehe." Your enthusiasm was infectious.

The boy examined you with a long gaze, taking in the way the cheese dust coated your fingertips. It was messy, but somehow charming. You were obviously bigger than him, and that felt... strange. Yet, there was something comforting about it. Knowing he had someone to share this moment with in a hellish, broken elevator made him smile, even if it was just a little.

"Oh! You smile!" You cheered, noticing the small smirk forming on his lips. His laughter echoed softly as you both shared a moment of joy, the tension lifting slightly.

"Of course I do." He fiddled with his hands, the skating gloves protecting his fragile fingers. "I'm not a robot."

"Hmm." You put your hand on your chin, trying to think deeply, which made you look even more playful. "Well, my friend has this big robot at his house."

The boy's eyes widened with curiosity. "Really?"

"Yeah! It will definitely blow your mind." You twirled your fingers in the air, mimicking an explosion. "Even dances like a real person!"

"Whoa..." The boy was fascinated by the topic. A robot that dances seemed to spark an interest in him, lighting up his expression. It may sound childish, but he was definitely hooked on the idea of it.

Even though it was 2016, technology still held a certain magic for him. He had never been spoiled with so much toys or even a nice phone, but the thought of a dancing robot captivated him. It was a world he could only dream of, and he liked the idea of entertaining people too.

"Yeah!" You spoke as you continued to munch on your chips, the cheesy flavor making your eyes sparkle. "I'm sure you have one! You look rich."

The boy tilted his head, confused by the compliment. He looked... rich? His family can barely afford their lifestyle, opting to travel overseas just to find cheaper skating lessons. Was it the way he dressed? Or the way he spoke? He felt uncomfortable at that observation but couldn’t blame you for it.

Looking back at you, he wondered about your own life. How did you experience the world? You seemed so carefree, so mature, yet so childlike. Where did you get all this energy? He could only wish to play with someone like you, a normal boy.

"Wait..." You asked, sensing his silence. "You must be a prince or something!"

The boy could only look down at the ground, his thoughts drowning out your words.

Realizing the shift in his demeanor, you quickly stood up and walked to his side. You playfully slid your back against the metallic wall of the elevator, settling down next to him.

"You good?" You spoke softly, trying to catch his attention.

"Y-yeah..." He mumbled, still avoiding your gaze.

Curious, you held the bag of chips in front of his face, and he flinched at the sudden movement.

"You sure you're not hungry?" You asked, still offering the bag, your voice full of warmth and kindness.

"I'm not a kid..." The boy thought for a moment, when his stomach growled deep in response. The two boys looked at each other.

Sunghoon sighed. "You really are persistent, huh?"

You laughed, surprised by his response. "Not hungry?"

He took the pack of chips from your hands, quickly grabbing whatever he could.

"Wait a minute..." He looked at you, his expression turning from excitement to confusion.

"Hmmm?" You tilted your head, not yet realizing the issue.

"It’s just dust!" He whined, clearly disappointed as he peered into the bag.

"Wah?" You looked inside the bag, brow furrowed. "No, it's not! There's still more stuff. Look harder."

The boy, still wanting to complain, peered back down into the bag. Indeed, there were still bits of chips at the bottom, the smell of cheese and salt wafting up and making his stomach grumble again.

Suddenly, a loud noise interrupted the moment. "Is..."

"What?" You asked, confusion etched on your face.

"That was you, wasn't it?" He asked, realizing how loud his stomach had been.

"No way." The boy answered, bringing the bag up to his face and taking a handful of chips.

"Wah, hey!" You exclaimed, half-laughing, half-worried as you watched him devour the remnants. You wanted to either save some for yourself or scold him for eating so quickly.

After he wiped his lips clean, satisfaction washed over his face. "That was good." He tried to flick the dust off his gloves, but it was futile; they were already stained.

"Thank you," he added, unsure if he should be embarrassed or grateful.

You assumed a reply was coming, and took a deep breath, but what came next was entirely unexpected.

"Wah! Your face!" You chuckled, unable to contain yourself as you noticed the remnants of cheese dust on his cheeks. It was too funny not to laugh at.

"What?" The boy asked, genuinely confused, his brows furrowing.

"Haha, look!" You raised a finger and tried to wipe the dust off his face, unintentionally smearing it across his cheeks. "Cheese!"

His eyes went wide as he realized how messy he looked, and he quickly tried to wipe his face with his gloves. In the process, he only managed to dirty them further.

"Oh no," he muttered, anxiety creeping in. His mother would definitely get angry.

"Huh?" You looked at him, before spotting the dirtied gloves.

"Take those gloves off then," you suggested. "Let's take it off so it doesn't bother you."

He hesitated, thinking about the consequences of his actions, but ultimately decided to let his hands free from the tight grip of his gloves. As he tried to salvage them, you continued to brush his face clean, your touch gentle and caring.

Noticing how close you were, the boy felt a warmth spread across his cheeks, turning bright red. He was mesmerized by the way your hands moved on his face.

Embarrassed, he instinctively moved away, refusing to let you touch him anymore.

"Oh?" You spoke, a playful tone in your voice. "I... I'm just cleaning it."

"I- I can do it," he stammered, trembling at the situation. Why on earth was he blushing about a boy in front of him? He didn't want to like that, but the touch of your hand on his cheek felt... nice.

Alarming both of them, the elevator suddenly jolted, and the doors opened revealing the bright lights of the mall.

"Ah! We're safe!!" You jumped up high, cheering at the top of your lungs. The boy, still dazed, could only think about the warmth of your touch when suddenly, you wrapped your hands around his and clasped them tightly.

You were holding his hand... you were holding his hand.

Even as you jumped for joy, and as the guards entered the elevator to safely assess the two of you, he couldn't get that moment out of his mind.

He liked the warmth he felt from you. It was like a fire he wanted to bathe in. Like a moth drawn to a flame, you occupied his thoughts for a while.

After getting rescued by the mall security, your mother came to talk to you, but you noticed that Sunghoon looked a bit... melancholic. It didn't sit well with you, and as you approached, you could hear how his mom and dad talked down to him. Your heart ached for him.

Running carefree, you walked towards him, determined to cheer him up.

"Hey!" You shouted when you saw him again, and he felt a rush of warmth as his face flushed.

"You good?"

Was he good? He couldn't even think straight...

"Hey..." You tried to communicate, catching his attention one last time.

"Yes?"

"You alright?" You asked, genuinely concerned but trying not to pry. You were just a kid after all.

"Y-yeah." The boy noticed how you had gone silent, while his parents looked at you with uncertainty before walking a bit farther away.

"You know, my mom told me you were a skater!" You exclaimed, your eyes lighting up as if a huge star had twinkled right beside him.

That's why you were dressed so elegantly. It was a beautiful costume that made him stand out.

"Y-yeah." He replied shyly, feeling the warmth of your compliment.

"You wear those blade things, right?" You asked, your curiosity spilling over as you admired him.

"Right??" You repeated, as if needing confirmation.

"Yes. And they're called roller blades."

"How do you not cut yourself?" You asked, your eyes wide with intrigue.

"You uhh..." The boy thought for a moment, trying to give a proper answer. "You really have to be careful."

"Woah..." You smiled, leaning closer as if he had just revealed a great secret. That was definitely something fascinating for you.

"Yeah." He nodded, seeing how your face lit up with admiration. "Why?"

"Why? Can't your new best friend ask you?"

"New best friend?" That was sudden. But not that he minded.

"Yeah!" You declared with confidence, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Who decided that?" The boy asked, amused.

"Me!" You chirped, causing him to giggle softly at your boldness.

"Of course it's you." He smiled, feeling a bit closer to you than he had earlier.

"Yeah!" You beamed back, your joy infectious and making his cheeks heat up a little. He was becoming fond of you already.

"We shared food together and I like you!" You announced proudly. "So now, we're best friends!"

"L-like?" The boy stuttered, clearly surprised by your declaration.

"Yeah!" You replied without a second thought. You both were definitely on different pages.

"Ahh..." The boy smiled, the word 'like' resonating with him in a pleasant way. To him, it beautifully described this interaction.

He liked you.

"Can I just say? You're definitely cuter than any other girl classmate I have." You smiled brightly. "Really!"

Okay, maybe you were on the same page together.

But for the boy? That heated his face even further, turning it bright red.

"And you have the cutest moles too..." You pointed out as you looked at his small face. "Look!"

He instinctively covered his face in embarrassment, wishing he could disappear into the ground. Even at the young age of 14, this was not how he pictured his simple day going.

Suddenly, he heard his parents call out to him. With your ears perking up, you held his arm, trying to talk to him one last time.

"Wait!"

The boy looked back at you, confusion evident on his face.

"Hmm?" He glanced at you, still holding onto his arm.

"What's your name?" You asked, your tone playful yet sincere.

It felt ridiculous not to know, but it was fair; he didn’t want too much attention anyway. Relaxing, he smiled softly.

"Park Sunghoon." He beamed, showing off his shy smile. "I... I skate professionally."

"Ahh..."

"And you?"

You gave your name, and Sunghoon made sure to remember it, etching that smile into his memory.

"It's ... a beautiful name." Sunghoon looked at you with fascination written all over his face.

"So is yours!" You cheered, making him giggle at that.

As he ran to catch up with his parents, you bid farewell to the skater, your heart a bit heavy at the parting.

As for Sunghoon, he couldn't care less about his performance for the day. Instead, he was only thinking of your name, itching to write it down in his notebook back at the hotel.

"I'll have to remember it," he thought to himself, gazing out the car window as the city lights glimmered against the darkening sky.

Unbeknownst to him, his future self would retire gracefully from skating. But being scouted as an idol wasn’t so bad, as he would later join a company focused on training the next big stars.

Yet, with everything that happened, nothing changed whenever he thought of you. There wasn't a single day that he didn't wonder what you were currently doing.

Did you pursue something amazing, like medicine or law? Did you commit to a good job that paid well?

Had you moved on from the memory of him? Had you dated anyone in your school or neighborhood?

And what about him? He definitely failed to forget you.

In the end, your memory lingered in his mind, like a song on repeat. Sunghoon had your name written in his heart with permanent ink, occupying a specific part of his brain that continued to wander.

Then, when he finally debuted, he could finally come to your country.

Finally, he had a way to see you again. To find you at least. To see you one last time before he let's go of that precious memory.

As he was on tour inside a shopping mall, Sunghoon browsed through a selection of fragrances. He couldn't wait to try some, fascinated by the exclusive items only sold at this location.

As if by random chance, he looked out the window and saw the bright sun shining outside the hall. Children played, adults walked by, and the scene was warm and cozy.

In a split second, he caught sight of the most unexpected thing he had ever seen through the thin glass.

You, standing there, exchanging a call with someone on your phone.

Sunghoon couldn't believe it. It was you. Really you. After all those years of not seeing your face, he was shocked to recognize that familiar sliver of hair. Maybe it was the way you stood? The way you carried yourself? Or just your eyes?

He couldn't even fathom it. Even after examining every angle, only he could recognize you from afar.

As you began to walk away, Sunghoon let go of his bags and handed them to his manager, rushing after you in a split second.

The wind whipped around him as he pushed through time and distance. He needed to see if it was really you. If it was your eyes he recognized, your stature, or just the very essence of you.

In his mind, he was set on one thing: finding you.

With what seemed like a goose chase, Sunghoon finally caught up to you.

Thinking of a way to get your attention, he recalled all the things he had practiced saying if you ever met again.

"Hey! It's Sunghoon. The skater guy? ... No."

"Hi! I'm Sunghoon's Enhype... shit."

"Hello? I... I think I know you?" Coming up with a quick line, he tapped your shoulder and waited for a response, his heart racing.

As he waited for you to turn, he steeled himself. Until he saw your face.

Or not.

"Sunghoon!!" It was a fan who just happened to be there. Thinking he was so utterly screwed; he stood frozen as he watched people flood around him. Smiling sheepishly, he scanned the crowd, searching for you again.

Suddenly, a tug pulled him out like a fish from the wild crowd.

"Get your head down, you're too tall." A whispering tone spoke to him, as if only he could understand. He nodded, prioritizing his safety as he ducked down.

Slowly, the stranger led him to a nearby exit door. It was a closed space, away from prying eyes, secluded from the bustling crowd.

"What were you trying to do over there? Public execution?" Sunghoon turned his head upwards, finally catching his breath. In that moment, he stood stiff, planted like a log on the ground.

The familiar eyes, the stature, the confident aura... it was you.

You found him first.

"Remember m-"

Before he could finish, a tight hug enveloped your body as you spoke. It wasn't just any hug; it was a warm embrace that expressed how much he longed to see you again. Even for just a second, he would sacrifice it all to be with you.

He never knew he missed you this much. Way too much.

"I remember you." As cheesy as it sounded, he gripped onto you tightly, cherishing the moment he had yearned for so long.

He met that boy again.

He was here with you, again.

You could only smile back, hugging him just as tightly. There were no words needed; only the warmth you two shared at that moment.

He was happy. And so were you.

After that, you talked and talked for moments, forgetting everything else around you.

Sunghoon was definitely smiling as he learned about your life and your dreams.

And you? You were happy to see how well he was taking care of himself. He was definitely taller than last time, and—

"You became even more handsome. Or pretty?" You smiled, taking in his physicality. Sunghoon couldn’t help but brush his hand through his hair, flustered and shy.

"Even better than the girls in your school?" Sunghoon quoted, still having that engraved in his mind.

It took you a second to understand, before bursting out in laughter.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"You remember that?"

"Of course." He chuckled softly. He remembered every little detail, replaying it like a favorite movie in his head.

You looked at him, seeing his genuine affection take center stage.

"Even better than anyone else." The way you said it made Sunghoon’s heart race.

Caught off guard with your boldness, he had no hesitations. With a rush of sweet adrenaline, he grabbed your face and kissed you with all the warmth and affection he had kept inside.

It was a kiss he had reserved just for you, his first.

As he pulled away, a bright smile adorned his features, his laughter bubbling up in childish joy.

"That... that was definitely a first." You stammered, feeling a bit taken back to be kissed like that.

"Yeah, I... I have no idea what a kiss with a guy should be."

"Oh, so you’ve kissed girls before?"

"No." That was quite a response.

"No?" You thought. You seemed ... relieved at that too?

"Never kissed a girl." Sunghoon replied straightforwardly. "My mind was filled with thoughts of only you."

You laughed again, finding it absurd that he had such thoughts of you.

"Seriously?!"

"Really." Sunghoon smiled. "You were very persistent in my head, even after everything. Even when you weren't there."

You looked at him, seeing his genuine affection take center stage.

"Same." You hugged him again, resting your head on his broad shoulder. Sunghoon liked that, caressing your back as you enjoyed having your weight upon his frame.

You stayed like that for a while, reminiscing and rekindling the bond you both had formed.

One thing was clear: Sunghoon wasn’t going to forget you anytime soon.

And neither would you.

WASNT THAT JUST THE SWEETESTTTTT i wish i could do moreeeeee but alas my head couldn't pump out enough ... i will do more if i could later onnn.... pls enjoy tho!!!

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