#//A friend he can finally start trusting more and more of himself

[keikeichi123456]

zosan streamer au except theyre both faceless and both unknowing fans of each other’s online personas, kinda like a miraculous ladybug situation

zoro and sanji know each other irl and they HATE each other even though luffy is their mutual friend, they had terrible first impressions of each other and well, let’s just say some nasty things were said from both sides

meanwhile, sanji is a huge fan of zoro’s stream persona and zoros a huge fan of sanji’s stream persona

their fans want them both to collab, so they set up a collab using their online personalities and when they collab, their popularity skyrockets because of the shippers (of course)

sanji finds zoro’s online personality really fun to talk to and vice versa so they start getting closer and closer, eventually delving into just pure flirting

zoro eventually brings up the prospect of meeting irl cuz its obvious that theyre both into each other

sanji has a conundrum cuz he doesn’t known this man irl or what he even looks like

he knows that the man is kind, patient, and unassumingly funny. for some reason, behind the wall of online anonymity, sanjis able to open up about his past, his trauma, his inner turmoil, and his family. the stranger listens intently and somehow always find the right things to say. he finds himself falling in love with this stranger, this faceless man

he knows that falling in love shouldnt be this easy, this painless, but sanjis life had been nothing but pain and grit, maybe, just maybe, he can have something easy for once, something he doesnt need to claw, scream, and beg for

then, sanji and zoro finally arrange a meeting (more like a date) and see each other for the first time

they both freeze, zoro stares in shock and sanji stares in horror

of course things would never be that easy, he was a fool to ever think that things would go his way for once. of course the man that he fell in love with was the man that also hated him all along

it was fun while it lasted.

zoro wasnt even able to open his mouth before sanji ran, so fast that zoro had no way to follow him (no, it wasn’t cuz he got lost, sanji was just fast okay?!)

he tries his best to contact sanji but sanji is radio silent: absolutely no word from him, not even luffy knows where he is

zoro stops and thinks for the first time in a probably a decade, he talks to luffy, he talks to usopp and they all agree that the next best thing to do is to make a public video basically asking sanji to please text him back (it was luffys idea that usopp encouraged and zoro reluctantly follows along cuz well, luffy said it would work so it must)

they film a low-budget, low-quality video where zoro is just on his knees saying please please please over and over again, the description says “please call me curly lets talk 🥺👉🏼👈🏼”

(usopp wrote the description, luffy directed the video, if it was anyone else, zoro might have thought they were setting him up but he trusts them wholeheartedly)

it gets posted on his main channel and it goes viral cuz its so primally stupid and relatable, zoro basically exposes himself as the really popular faceless streamer but fans are NOT disappointed cuz the man is FINE AS HELL

it ends up on sanjis feed while hes in the middle of doomscrolling and crying to nami and robin and they all just see sanjis crush begging him for attention, they look at each other and look at the video again

nami, ever the voice of reason, basically forces sanji to text him at least. zoro made sanji happy and it would be a disservice to sanji if he just let that slip away without a fight

they talk it out, end up actually meeting face to face and they find that their chemistry is electric and sanji begins to hope again

in the end, they make a video together showing their faces and reveal their relationship to their fans and the shippers go wild

tldr

zosan: im falling in love with oomf???

[iamleesi]

𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓 ☠︎

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝟑𝐚𝐭𝐡, 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟, 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟. 18+

𝐀/𝐍: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐞 '𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄' 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧. 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬... 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢𝐭. 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝟏𝟎𝟎% 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞. 𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!

-> [ 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ] [ 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮 ]

𝐶𝑂𝑅𝐴𝐿𝐼𝑁𝐸: "𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑑𝑜 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑤𝑎𝑦, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒."

𓃠

She swears she can still hear his laugh sometimes. It's faint, just a shadow of sound in the back of her mind, but it's there. Fucked up, maybe, but that's how things were going. And more often than not, when she picks up her phone, her first instinct is still to call him. Just to hear his voice. Just to make sure he's okay. But he isn't okay. He isn't anything anymore.

Bucky is dead.

She remembers that last day as if it were yesterday, even though four months have passed. She woke up in his arms like she had every morning for the last three years, his warmth surrounding her in a way that made her feel like nothing in the world could touch them. After everything he had been through, after all the years of pain and fighting, he had finally retired. He was done trying to save the world, done putting his life at risk for someone else's battles. And he was happy with that choice.

They'd bought a little house far from the Avengers Compound, tucked away from the chaos. Not that they didn't love their friends - because they did - but the distance gave them peace. A chance to breathe, to live, to just be themselves, without the constant shadow of war hanging over their heads.

Alpine had come into their lives one afternoon when Bucky was walking home from therapy. A scrawny little white cat, mewling from the edge of a dumpster, had caught his attention. He didn't hesitate, scooping her up and bringing her home like it was the most natural thing in the world. He'd been so proud of that, of finding her, of giving her a safe place to heal. She loved that cat almost as much as she loved him and he loved calling himself a 'cat dad'. Because he always loved having the 'cat mom' by his side - just a thought that made him happy.

He'd been doing so well. Going to therapy not because someone told him to, but because he wanted to. Because he wanted to heal. And he was healing. He smiled more, he laughed more. He even let himself dream about the future - their future. He was starting to open up to the idea of having kids.

But then the call came.

Steve.

It was always Steve.

An emergency, he said. Something about a Russian organization - one that had picked up where Hydra had left off. They had created a group of genetically modified soldiers. Monsters, Steve called them, failed experiments with claws and fangs and things Steve hadn't even been able to describe over the phone.

Bucky didn't want to go. She didn't want him to go. But it was Steve. His best friend. The man who had fought for his freedom as fiercely as he could, and both her and Bucky knew that he would still be with Hydra if it wasn't for Captain America. He was the man Bucky trusted with his life, even now. Steve wouldn't have called if it wasn't absolutely necessary. And so, reluctantly, Bucky packed his things and left that morning, kissing her on the forehead as he promised to come back.

He didn't come back.

Not really. Surely not alive.

By the end of the night, he came back in a coffin.

Steve had been the one to tell her. He showed up at the house, his face pale and his shoulders heavy with a grief that almost matched her own. Almost. But when he started to speak, she couldn't hear him. She felt as though part of her soul had already been ripped out, and the words he said barely registered. The details of the mission, the sacrifice Bucky made to save Steve's life - it all blurred into a hollow roar in her ears.

What she couldn't ignore, though, was the ring.

Steve had handed it to her, his voice cracking as he explained what Bucky had planned. He'd been going to propose. That Sunday, just a few days after the mission, he'd planned the whole day. It was supposed to be the start of something new for them - a new chapter, a new promise.

Instead, it was the day of his funeral.

She didn't cry. She couldn't. The weight of it all was too much, pressing down on her chest until she couldn't even stand. Couldn't breathe. As the casket was lowered into the ground, all she could think about was crawling in there with him. Laying beside him, just one last time. Letting the earth close around them so they could be together forever - exactly as they planned, right? So there was nothing wrong with it.

Steve apologized, over and over, his voice cracking with guilt. "It should have been me." He said, again and again. And of course it should have been him, because Bucky had died to save him. But she couldn't bring herself to say it wasn't his fault. The words wouldn't come. Because deep down, some part of her - a small, bitter, angry part - blamed him.

What if Steve hadn't called? What if he had called someone else? What if Bucky had stayed home where he belonged? If it was selfish to think it, she didn't care. Her mind was full of what ifs - a constant, unrelenting loop of the life they could have had if only things had gone differently.

The condolences came after that. The pity.

Natasha showed up at the house, trying to get her to eat, to move, to live. Wanda also came often, trying to help with her grief, but she couldn't even bear to listen. Sam invited her to the boat, said it might be good to be around people, to get out of the house. But none of it mattered. She didn't want their help. She didn't want their understanding.

She wanted Bucky.

But Bucky was gone. Forever.

So she packed her things, took Alpine and left without telling anyone. She didn't know where she was going, and she didn't care. She just needed to be somewhere else. Somewhere far away.

That's how she ended up at the Pink Palace.

The landlord had called it that with a strange sort of pride, even though it was immediately followed by: "the last family who lived here moved away." He said. "Their kid disappeared. She was never found."

She hadn't cared about the story. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't welcoming, and it wasn't home. But it was cheap, isolated, and far, far away.

That was all she needed.

It was almost the end of November when she finally moved. She hadn't packed much - just the bare minimum. A few clothes shoved haphazardly into a bag, Alpine's golden carrier that took up most of the car's backseat, and a couple of books she wasn't even sure she wanted to read. Everything else she left behind, like she was shedding a life she didn't want to live anymore. She told herself it was enough. It had to be. For now, at the very least.

The inside of the house didn't make her feel any better. The previous owners had left everything: the scuffed furniture, the old kitchen with its peeling cabinets, the faint smell of something sour that no amount of scrubbing could erase. She didn't bring much to make it feel like hers, either, so it just sat there, hollow and untouched, as if waiting for the family that had abandoned it to return. Or their kid. Poor soul.

She thought maybe that was why she hated it so much—the emptiness. Every room felt like it was holding its breath, waiting for her to do something, and she couldn't. All she could do was drag herself out of bed when Alpine meowed for food or when her stomach twisted painfully enough to force her into the kitchen.

Alpine, at least, was always there. She never left her side, trailing her through the house like a small, silent shadow. She'd curl up beside her on the bed at night, or perch on the armrest of the couch when she finally managed to sit down. The little cat had always been attached to her, but now it felt different - like she was waiting for someone, too. She'd catch Alpine sitting by the front door sometimes, staring at it as if she expected Bucky to walk through it at any moment.

It made her chest ache. She'd lean down, scratch behind Alpine's ears, and whisper, "I miss him too." The cat would purr softly, pressing her head into her hand, and for a moment, she'd feel like someone understood. It wasn't much, but it was all she had left.

She told herself the move was a good idea. That leaving was the only way she'd ever get out from under the weight of her grief. Back home, everything reminded her of Bucky: the friends who couldn't look at her without apologizing, the apartment they'd picked out together, the diner down the street where they used to go to all the time. Here, no one knew her. No one looked at her with pity in their eyes or offered their sympathy with awkward smiles. She thought that would help.

It didn't.

Every day felt worse than the last. Maybe it was because she hadn't spoken to another person since she got here - her phone was constantly buzzing, full of texts and calls she wouldn't answer. She ignored all of it. Talking felt impossible, like a mountain she didn't have the strength to climb. Alpine was the only one who heard her voice anymore, and even then, it was barely more than a whisper.

Or, maybe, it was the house itself. The Pink Palace was old, worn-down in a way that no fresh coat of paint could hide. The windows rattled when the wind picked up, and the floorboards creaked no matter how carefully she walked. At night, the noises were worse: the faint scratching of rats in the walls, the groan of the pipes settling. Sometimes, she thought she heard whispers - soft, almost imperceptible - but she always told herself it was just her imagination.

The landlord had warned her about the neighbors, but she hadn't thought much of it at the time. There was the old man upstairs, a veteran who talked to rats like they were his comrades, and two old women who lived down the hall. She hadn't met any of them, and she didn't plan to. Their voices filtered through the thin walls often enough, though - his low muttering at night, their loud bursts of laughter and show tunes during the day. They annoyed her in a way she couldn't quite put into words. It wasn't just their presence; it was the reminder that life was still going on around her, that the world hadn't stopped just because hers had.

She told herself it was fine. That she just needed time. Time to grieve, to heal, to figure out how to keep going without Bucky. But the truth was, she didn't know how to move forward. She didn't even know if she wanted to. Every breath felt like a betrayal, every day another reminder that he was gone and she wasn't.

Now, she was in the kitchen and it was cold. Not unbearably so, but just enough that she rubbed her arms absentmindedly as she poured herself a bowl of chocolate cereal. It was one of the only things she could stomach these days, simple and sweet. The carton of milk was already sweating from how long she'd left it out, but she couldn't bring herself to care. The house was quiet except for the clink of her spoon against the bowl, the kind of silence that wasn't peaceful but heavy, like it had weight to it.

Alpine's eyes were on her back. She could feel them, even without turning around. "Baby, you already ate." She said, glancing over her shoulder at the little cat perched primly on the counter. "Don't look at me like that. You know I might give in."

Alpine tilted her head, her expression perfectly calculated to elicit guilt. Little fucker, she thought, even as the corner of her mouth twitched into something close to a smile. She knew exactly what she was doing - always did. But it was winter, and cats ate more around this time, so maybe she couldn't entirely blame her.

"Fine." She muttered, reaching up to scratch under Alpine's chin. "But not now. Later. Your dad spoiled you too much, I fear."

Alpine blinked, and the look she gave her felt suspiciously like victory.

She leaned against the counter, eating her cereal slowly. Her outfit didn't help with the cold - just an old pair of sweatpants that might have been Bucky's once, back when things were new and stealing his clothes was her favorite habit, and a faded One Direction t-shirt that clung a little awkwardly now. She'd run out of clean clothes two days ago and hadn't yet worked up the energy to deal with it. The laundry, like everything else, could wait.

She was vaguely aware she should care more about the mess she'd already made of the house. The sink was piling up with dishes, and the laundry basket was overflowing in the corner of the bedroom. She hadn't even checked if the washing machine worked - hell, she hadn't gone near the basement where it was only supposed to be. Every time she passed the stairs that led down there, her eyes would catch on the picture hanging on the wall above it: an old, ugly framed photo of a boy holding an ice cream cone. It wasn't creepy in a traditional sense, but there was something about it that unnerved her. She kept telling herself to take it down, but every time she tried, her hands faltered halfway there. Overreacting? Probably. But it didn't stop her.

She was halfway through the bowl - her last clean one, naturally - when she heard it.

The scratching was faint at first, just a tiny noise against the wall or maybe the floor, but it was enough to make her freeze. Alpine noticed it, too; her head jerked toward the sound, ears twitching. For a long moment, they both stayed perfectly still, listening.

When it came again, louder this time, she tossed her spoon onto the table with a little too much force. The clang it made was sharp, startling in the quiet room. Alpine shot her a look, her wide green eyes unimpressed but resigned, used to her mood swings by now. It had been four months and she still had a lifetime to go.

Her immediate thought was rats. It had to be. The man upstairs with his weird rat obsession was starting to drive her insane. She'd kept her mouth shut because, honestly, what was the point? If they stayed outside, she could deal. But clearly, they weren't staying outside anymore.

Her frustration mounted as she stalked toward the living room, bare feet cold against the hardwood. It was a mess of unused furniture, the kind that looked like it had been here forever, all draped in white sheets that made the room look like a graveyard. She flipped the light switch, and the old bulb overhead flickered a couple of times before settling into a dull, yellow glow.

She scanned the room, her eyes darting to every shadow and corner, but there was nothing. The scratching had stopped the moment she stepped in.

"Great, am I going crazy?" She muttered, crossing her arms. Alpine padded into the room behind her, her little white paws silent against the floor. The cat stopped a few feet away, head tilted up, watching her with an expression that bordered on curiosity - maybe even concern, if cats could feel that. After a moment, Alpine glanced around the room herself, eyes scanning the corners like she was also checking for intruders.

"Unless there's a secret door around here..." She said, her voice dry. "We have no rats. Maybe we both are going crazy, Al. We need friends. I saw a black cat outside earlier - maybe you'd like him? But then again, you don't like anyone, do you?"

Alpine blinked at her, slow and deliberate, as if to say, I tolerate you, don't I?

"Right. You do." She said, sighing as she gave the room one last look. "You could do your cat things, you know? Go find the rat or the squirrel or... whatever was making that noise. Isn't that, like, your job?"

Alpine, ever the queen of unbothered, blinked slowly at her before leaping onto one of the covered chairs. She circled once, twice, and plopped down in the dead center like she owned the place.

"Oh, I see how it is." She said, gesturing vaguely toward the corner of the room. "I'll just go check it out myself, then. You stay there, Your Majesty. Don't strain yourself."

There were no rats around, no weird animals sneaking through the house - just the occasional spider in the corner. Sure, they were unsettling (spiders were spiders, after all), but they didn't scratch walls or skitter across floors loud enough to wake her up. She was still absolutely convinced one of her neighbor's stupid rats had managed to crawl into her house, but those little guys knew how to hide. She didn't have any traps, didn't feel like running to the hardware store to get some, and frankly, she couldn't bring herself to care enough to chase them down.

So, she went to bed. Or rather, she tried to.

Her body felt heavy with exhaustion, but her mind refused to shut up. It was like that most nights - crying herself into something halfway between sleep and pure misery. She wasn't sure what time it was when her eyes shot open. 2 a.m.? 3 a.m.? It didn't matter. The house was silent except for the sound of her own heartbeat pounding in her ears.

And then, there it was again. The scratching.

She tried to ignore it, rolling onto her side and pulling the blanket up to her neck. But now it sounded like two sets of paws scratching. Or maybe three. A chorus of little claws, just loud enough to make her want to scream into her pillow.

That was it. She threw the blanket off and got out of bed, Alpine letting out a disgruntled mrrp from her spot at the foot of the mattress. The cat yawned and stretched like she was coming off a twelve-hour shift and had no intention of working overtime, then promptly curled up again.

"Thanks for the backup, Al." She muttered under her breath, her steps loud against the creaking floor as she headed for the stairs.

The house was mostly in the darkness, the moonlight spilling through the windows just enough to see by. She didn't bother flipping on the lights - she didn't need to. Her legs carried her straight to the living room, and her hand reached out for the switch before she even had to think about it.

And there they were.

Two rats, scratching at the wall right behind the couch, their little bodies half-hidden by one of the white sheets still draped over the furniture. She stared at them, her lips pressing into a tight line.

"I knew I wasn't crazy. Not yet, anyway."

The rats didn't even flinch at her voice, too busy clawing at the wall. She frowned. Clearly, she hadn't thought this through: no traps, no plan, just righteous indignation and a pair of rats that didn't seem to give a single damn about her existence.

"Okay." She mumbled, taking a step back. "Fine. Stay there, little guys, don't move. I'm going for Plan B."

The kitchen. Maybe there was something useful there. She left the rats to their scratching and marched down the hall, pulling open cabinets and drawers with a single-minded focus. She wasn't entirely sure what she was looking for - maybe some old traps left behind by the previous owners. The smell of mold hit her first, making her wrinkle her nose as she dug through the shit that had been left behind.

Nothing. Nothing but useless, stupid junk.

She opened another drawer, and that's when she saw them: keys.

Dozens of them.

She stared down at them, her hand hovering over the strange collection. They were all different sizes and colors, most looking as old as the house itself. Some were rusted beyond repair, others shiny and new, but none of them made sense. There weren't enough doors in this house to justify half of these keys, let alone all of them.

One caught her eye, standing out from the rest.

It was different - heavier, more ornate, with a handle that curved into an odd shape. The other side of the key wasn't jagged like the rest but smooth, and there was something unusual about the tip of the handle. It was round, like a small button.

"Particular. Particularly ugly." She muttered, turning it over in her hand. Maybe it was a toy? Some part of a playset the previous owner's kid had lost and forgotten. It wouldn't have surprised her; the house was practically a time capsule of neglected junk. Herself included.

She felt Alpine brush past her leg, but before she could think more about the strange key, the sound of scratching came again. This time louder, more insistent. The rats.

"Stay here, Alpine. Mama has work to do." She mumbled to herself, shoving the key absentmindedly into her sweatpants pocket and leaving the drawer open behind her. She followed the noise back to the living room, muttering under her breath about how tired she was of this nonsense.

The two culprits were still there, busy clawing away at the wall behind the couch. She stopped in the doorway and folded her arms, glaring at them like they might actually respond.

"I'm not even sure I have edible food anymore." She said aloud, her voice as dry as ever. "So if you're looking for that, you're in the wrong house. Go annoy someone else."

The rats didn't flinch, still focused on whatever had their attention. She tilted her head, studying them. They weren't looking for food, not really. They weren't sniffing the air or scurrying around. They seemed fixated on something - like they were trying to get to it.

She took a cautious step forward. "Alright, Ratatouille." She said, her tone edged with exasperation. "Move. Let me see what's so important to you. But then you have to leave, this is not some hotel for wild animals."

The moment she approached, the rats scattered, darting away with tiny squeaks and disappearing into the shadows. Typical. She sighed, shaking her head, and turned her attention to the wall.

The couch was pressed tightly against it, but there wasn't anything unusual about the spot - at least, not at first glance. She stepped closer, gripping the edges of the sheet-covered furniture and giving it a hard tug to drag it out of the way. Dust puffed into the air, and she coughed, waving a hand in front of her face.

And then she saw it.

At first, she thought it was just another patch of peeling wallpaper, but the more she looked, the clearer it became. There was a faint outline in the wall - small and rectangular, no bigger than a cupboard door. It blended into the faded wallpaper almost perfectly, as if it wasn't meant to be noticed.

"What the-." She whispered, her brow furrowing as she crouched down. She reached out, her fingers brushing over the edges. It felt solid beneath her touch, though her nails caught on the subtle grooves around the frame. A door.

The realization sent a chill down her spine, though she didn't know why. It was just a door, wasn't it? Probably a storage compartment or something for the plumbing. Nothing out of the ordinary.

But if it was nothing out of the ordinary, then why did her heart rate accelerate? She knelt there, staring at the faint outline, her fingers brushing over it again as if to prove it was real. It was small - just enough for a child to walk through without ducking.

The edges of her mind filled with half-formed theories she didn't want to entertain. What if this door had been here all along, hidden under layers of wallpaper? What if that kid had found it first? Stop it, she told herself firmly, shaking her head. The story didn't matter. What mattered was that it was here, and now so was she.

Her hand drifted to her pocket, fingers brushing against the cool metal of the key she'd shoved in earlier. She frowned, her chest tightening. What if it works?

The thought made her hesitate. Opening the door felt like crossing a line she couldn't uncross, but curiosity stirred inside her anyway. That curiosity - it was something she'd always had, even when it got her in trouble. Bucky used to tease her about it all the time, it was something he loved about her.

And so, before she even knew it, she pressed the key into the faint hole at its center. Her heart thudded in her chest as she twisted. It caught for a moment, then turned smoothly, like it had been waiting for her all along.

The faintest click echoed in the silence. It worked.

She didn't exactly know what to expect. Her mind cycled through possibilities, each one more ridiculous than the last: a family of rats scurrying around like they paid rent, a skeleton tucked away like some dark secret, or maybe just bricks sealing off the passage altogether. A tunnel? That wasn't even on her radar.

But there it was. A tunnel, impossibly strange and bathed in shifting lights - purple, blue, magenta - all swirling together like something out of a dream. She blinked hard, then again, just to make sure her exhausted brain wasn't playing tricks on her. The colors didn't fade. They seemed to ripple against the walls, smooth and alive in a way that made her skin prickle.

She looked over her shoulder at the living room. It sat there, ordinary and lifeless, the same sad space it had been since she'd arrived one week ago. She glanced back at the tunnel. The air inside seemed thicker somehow, shimmering faintly like heat rising off asphalt. She squinted, trying to see where it led, but the light bent strangely, making it impossible to tell.

She should've closed it. She knew she should've closed it. Slam the door shut, throw the key into the nearest lake, and maybe burn the whole house down for good measure. Whatever was inside that tunnel didn't belong in any version of the real world she understood.

But then again, what part of her life ever had?

Her chest tightened as she thought of her friends - if she could even call them that anymore. A witch, a talking raccoon, the god of thunder, and a billionaire with a good heart. Her world had been full of strange, impossible things for years. Magic wasn't just real; she'd seen it firsthand. Aliens existed. Some Guardians of the Galaxy also existed. People flew and moved mountains and bent reality to their will.

Strange doesn't always mean bad, she thought, swallowing hard.

That reasoning didn't stop her palms from sweating as she reached out, fingers brushing the edges of the opening. Crawling into it felt ridiculous and dangerous all at once, but the longer she stood there, the more her curiosity pulled at her - fuck it. It surely couldn't be worse that the grief she was feeling.

She winced as she leaned forward, testing the space, her shoulders brushing the sides. It was tighter than she liked, but manageable if she stayed low. The tunnel smelled faintly of damp stone and something else she couldn't place.

She couldn't stop now, not with how close she felt to... something. What, she didn't know. Crawling forward, her knees and palms scraped against the hard surface, her muscles starting to ache. The tunnel felt endless, and the air was so still it made her ears ring. She had no idea how far she'd gone, and when she tried to glance over her shoulder, the tight space made it impossible to look back.

She groaned under her breath, cursing herself for crawling into a place she didn't understand, but just as the panic started to creep in, her head bumped into something solid.

Her hand shot forward, feeling the cool, grainy surface of wood. She froze, her heart thundering in her chest as her fingers fumbled until they found the faint outline of a handle. For a moment, she just knelt there. Did she really want to know what was on the other side? Probably not. But she was here now, so what else could she do?

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open.

The smell hit her first - warm and familiar, like cinnamon. She blinked, stunned, as she crawled out and stood, brushing off her pants. For a second, all she could do was stare.

She was in the living room again.

But it wasn't her living room. At least, not the one she remembered crawling away from. The place looked new, like it belonged in a magazine. The furniture wasn't covered in old sheets anymore, the floors gleamed like it had just been polished, and the walls (painted in colors she loved but never had the energy to pick out herself) looked clean and bright. The TV was on, playing a cooking show she didn't recognize, and the whole room felt warm, like someone had been living there all along.

Her chest tightened as she took it all in. This had to be some kind of dream, right? It was too perfect. She rubbed her arm hard, trying to snap herself out of it, but nothing changed. She pinched her skin next, just to be sure. Still nothing.

She drifted toward the kitchen, her legs shaky beneath her. And that's when she saw him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was Bucky.

His back was to her, but she'd know him anywhere, in any shape or form or lifetime. His shoulders were broad, his hair tied back in a low bun like he used to wear it when they stayed in together. He was at the stove, cooking something - probably whatever smelled so good - and he was humming. She could hear him clearly, the tune instantly recognizable: It's Been a Long, Long Time. Her hands clutched at the doorframe as her heart hammered in her chest.

It didn't make sense.

It couldn't make sense.

But he was there. Breathing and alive.

She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but no sound came out. She just stared, watching him as he moved like he belonged there, like he hadn't been gone for months. Like nothing had ever happened.

He spoke without turning around, his voice warm and familiar, the sound of it wrapping around her like a hug. "Took you long enough to find me, doll."

Her legs almost gave out.

"Bucky?" She whispered, barely able to get the word out.

He chuckled softly, turning to face her. "Who else?"

Her heart lurched in her chest - then stopped entirely.

Because when he turned, it wasn't his warm blue eyes staring back at her.

It was two shiny black buttons.

She squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing ragged as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. She didn't know if it was to stop herself from screaming or from throwing up, but the nausea hit her in waves. Those buttons were sewn into his eyes: thick, uneven stitches held them in place, and the skin around them was raw and red, like it hurt just to exist.

Her entire body shook as she backed up a step, then froze when he took one toward her.

"Hey, hey." He murmured softly, his voice like velvet, so familiar it made her chest ache. His hand reached out, brushing against hers. His touch was light, gentle, and for a second she softened.

Her lips trembled as she avoided looking at him, tears pooling under her lashes. This was him, wasn't it? The man she loved. The man she'd lost. The way his fingers slid against her skin, the way he leaned in like he wanted to shield her from the world -  it was all so painfully familiar.

"I know what you must be thinking." He said, his other hand brushing against her chin, tilting her face up toward him. His thumb traced her jaw, soft and deliberate, the way it always had when he wanted to comfort her. "I'm dead, technically. In the other world. Here, now, I'm here, baby. And here I am meant to stay, with you. Open your pretty eyes for me."

Her breath hitched, and she dared to open her eyes again.

And he was there. He looked just the same, apart from the obvious absence of the blue eyes she'd fallen in love with. The messy stubble on his jaw, the faint scar on his cheek, the way his lips curved into the softest smile - it was all him.

"I..." Her voice cracked, and she had to swallow hard before trying again. "How is this possible?"

"Does it matter?" His smile widened, but it didn't reach those dark, empty... well, buttons. "Touch me. Feel me. This is real, I'm real, my love. Doesn't matter how, we can have our second chance."

Her knees felt weak, like her body was fighting against her own disbelief. She wanted to collapse, to wake up from this nightmare, but instead, she found herself reaching for his face. Her hand trembled as she hovered just short of his cheek, afraid to touch him, afraid to feel if he was real.

He leaned into her hand anyway, guiding her fingers against his skin. It was warm. Soft. Real.

"It's okay." He whispered, his voice dripping with reassurance. "I know it's weird, I know it's painful, but you'll get used to it if you wish to stay. With me, forever. As we planned, do you remember?"

Her throat felt tight, like she was swallowing glass. "I... I do, but your eyes-"

He cut her off gently, his hand moving to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Shh. Don't worry about that. You don't have to think about anything now. You're home, sweetheart. That's all that matters."

He took her hand in his, brushing his lips softly against her knuckles the way he always had. It was such a simple gesture, yet her lower lip trembled despite herself. She was stupid, she knew that. Stupid for letting her guard down, for leaning toward him like this. It was fucked up - completely, utterly fucked up.

Four months. Four agonizing months of endless crying, of sleepless nights consumed by thoughts of him. She'd wanted him back so desperately that she'd prayed to gods she didn't even believe in, hoping for one of them - if they existed - to bring him home. They didn't need him, she did. And when that didn't work, she had begged Death herself, tempting fate one reckless night after another, daring her to take her too.

But no one answered.

And yet, here he was.

It wasn't her Bucky, not really. She knew that. Deep down, she knew. But it was something. And the broken, yearning part of her - by far the loudest - shoved aside every concern, every alarm, and clung to the scraps he offered. She followed him as he led her to the table, where all her favorite foods waited, the centerpiece being those cinnamon rolls only he could make.

Because despite everything, Bucky Barnes had always been an incredible cook.

"I've been waiting for you for a long time." He said, his voice warm but edged with something she couldn't quite place. "In this... other world." He paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "I took my time to make everything perfect for you. For us. So we could keep living our life the way we always wanted. Before... you know. The mission."

She swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to the table. Her heart clenched painfully at the memory, but she forced herself to look at him. And his plate, which was empty.

Not his eyes - she couldn't. Those black, unblinking buttons unsettled her in a way she couldn't articulate. Instead, her focus drifted to his lips, to the familiar curve of his smile, trying to anchor herself to the parts of him that still felt like him.

"How... how does this even work?" She asked, her voice unsteady. "Is this a parallel universe? Doctor Strange said something about a multiverse once but I didn’t pay attention.”

He tilted his head slightly, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. "No, not a multiverse. But call it a parallel universe if that's what makes sense to you." He said, his tone light, like they were discussing the weather. Then his smile widened, his expression softening. "I call it the Other World. I'm the Other Bucky."

Her chest tightened at his words. Other Bucky? The phrase sounded so wrong. She bit her lip, her hands curling into fists in her lap as she tried to process it.

"You're... not my Bucky?" She whispered, her voice trembling.

“Not quite.” His smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he leaned closer, reaching out to take her hand in his again. His touch was so familiar, so gentle, it sent a shiver down her spine. "I'm still your Bucky, sweetheart." He said, his voice dripping with sincerity. "Maybe not the one you lost. But I love you just the same. Isn't that enough?"

Her throat felt tight, and tears blurred her vision. She wanted to scream that no, it wasn't enough. That nothing could ever replace the Bucky she'd lost, the one she'd loved more than anything in the world. But when she looked at him again, at the way he held her hand so tenderly, the way he spoke with so much conviction, the fight drained out of her.

"Do you... do you remember our first Christmas together?" She asked, her voice hesitant, almost fragile. Her thumb traced the back of his hand, an old habit she had when she felt nervous. "When I told you I wanted a Christmas tree, and you got one by the end of the day?"

A soft chuckle escaped his lips, the sound so achingly familiar that it sent a pang through her chest. "How could I forget? You were so determined to make it perfect. I stole it, by the way. From Tony's personal collection at the Compound."

She smiled. "I know. Tony told me a couple of days later."

"Yeah, well..." He raised an eyebrow with a sly grin. "He caught me hauling it out and almost blasted me. I think he only let me keep it because he knew it was for you. Though he made me suffer for weeks after."

She couldn't help the small, genuine smile that crept onto her face. It sounded so much like the man she'd loved - his mischief, his stubbornness. "That sounds exactly like something he would do." She said softly.

Encouraged, she pushed forward, testing him. "And... do you remember when you brought Alpine home? You got her that little blanket. Do you remember which one?"

His button eyes seemed to glint with something she couldn't name, if that was even possible, but the smile on his lips didn't waver. "The Captain America one." He said without hesitation. "She hated it at first, but you swore it made her look cozy. I remember everything, doll. Every little detail."

She felt her throat tighten again, nodding. He was telling the truth.

"You're testing me, aren't you?" He asked, tilting his head, his voice carrying no edge of offense, only understanding.

"I... yes. I'm sorry." She whispered, dropping her gaze.

"No, baby, it's perfectly fine." He reached across the table, his fingers brushing hers lightly, sandwiching her hand between both of his. She flinched, but only slightly. His touch still felt so warm, so human. "I understand. I'd do the same if I were in your shoes."

She risked a glance at him, and his smile softened, becoming something almost unbearably tender. "I don't blame you for doubting this." He said, his voice low. "For doubting me. You've been through hell. You've lost more than anyone should ever have to. And yet, here you are, strong enough to sit across from me and look for the truth."

Her hand trembled slightly beneath his. "Bucky-"

"I'm not just saying this because I want you to believe me." He interrupted gently. "I'm saying this because I need you and I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, and I'll keep loving you, no matter what world we're in of what choice you made. No matter what it takes. I didn't wait all this time just to lose you again."

His words hit her like a blow to the chest, raw and piercing. Tears stung her eyes, and for a moment, she let herself lean into the illusion, into the hope that maybe this was real, that maybe she'd been given another chance in that weird way. Maybe that was the answer from the Gods she was waiting for.

"Bucky." She whispered again, her voice breaking. "I've missed you so much."

"I know, doll." He said, leaning closer, pressing his forehead against hers. "But I'm here now. That's all that matters. You don't have to carry the pain anymore. Let me do that for you."

Tears pricked her eyes again as he talked, his voice like a balm she hadn't realized she'd missed so much. He told her how long he'd been waiting for her, how lonely he'd been in this perfect world he claimed to have created just for her. His words wrapped around her like a warm blanket, even as a sliver of unease twisted deep in her chest.

She could only squeeze his hand tighter. She sat with him, eating as he poured her wine, laughing softly at his jokes even though she barely heard them. It was so easy to fall into this rhythm, to let herself believe him.

But that small, stubborn voice in the back of her mind was screaming at her. Begging her. Pleading with her to see. To crawl back through that door to the real world, to grieve, to heal, to move on. Because whatever this was, it wasn't normal. It wasn't right. It was dark and twisted, and somewhere deep inside, she knew that.

But then he smiled at her again.

And just like that, she smiled back.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Bedtime snacks!

Okay… I had some time and Amanda seemed upset when I did my homework before watching the next tape but… wow. That… that was hard. I don’t remember Riley saying the puzzles were this hard. Okay… maybe I felt they were exaggerating because I know they hate puzzles… but I love puzzles! So like… it shouldn’t be this hard right? Sophie thinks. But now she finally has it. The next tape, titled Bedtime Snacks! 

I’m going to need a bedtime snack after this… Sophie thinks to herself. Looking at the time. She puts the next tape into the VCR and it starts to play. The tape begins with Wooly laying in bed, staring at the ceiling. He eventually notices Sophie. 

“Oh, hi there friend! Are there ever times where you feel like you just can’t sleep?” he asks. Sophie types in yes. “Yeah… heh heh… it happens all the time. It’s like your thoughts are just whirling around in your head and they just won’t stop! Well… sometimes it’s not even that. Sometimes I just… wait and wait and wait… and I just don’t fall asleep. It’s kind of annoying honestly.” 

Honestly I just stay up really late on my phone or doing assignments and suddenly it’s morning. We’re not the same. Sophie thinks. 

“What do you do when you can’t sleep?” he asks, but no text box appears so Sophie stays quiet. Wooly stands there awkwardly. “Um… good for you? I think? Um anyway, I think a nice bedtime snack can sometimes be good. Like some milk and cookies! But don’t tell Amanda okay? If she finds out we had cookies without her she’ll be really upset.” 

“Maybe you could invite her?” Sophie suggests. Wait, I'm not supposed to talk!

“Well she’s sleeping, and I think she’d be more upset if I woke her up so… hmm… let’s just keep this between us okay?” Sophie types in yes. Wooly smiles. “Don’t go telling Amanda behind my back, okay?” Okay Sophie types. “Ooookay then. Let’s go to the kitchen!” the tape glitches to the kitchen. Wooly is quiet for a bit, as if contemplating something. 

“Milk is so much better at night when it’s warm…” he whispers. “But we don’t have a microwave… so I guess it’ll have to be cold.” Wooly pouts. Sophie clicks on the stove. “I… I’m confused, what do you want me to do?” she clicks it again. “You can talk, you know, I won’t get mad.” 

“You can heat up the milk in a saucepan on the stovetop.” she explains. Wooly’s eyes light up with excitement. Then he stops. 

“But… we really shouldn’t be using the stove without an adult…” he mumbles. His face contorts a bit in frustration, “but it’s been forever since I’ve gotten to make myself a warm cup of milk…” 

He sounds like he’s arguing with himself Sophie thinks. 

“Mmm… weeeeelll. You’re an adult right? So it should be fine! Just… don’t tell Amanda okay?” 

This really isn’t going to help Amanda trust me… but okay… Sophie thinks. “Do you need any help?” 

“Yeah… maybe… I’ve only ever done this in a microwave…” Wooly answers. 

“You’ve done this before?” 

“Yeah I used to have warm milk with my little sister every night… then I’d read her a story… We had this whole routine. She couldn’t fall asleep without it… honestly neither could I… mmmm….” he pauses, “being able to remember her again after so long is weird… but I think I’m starting to see why Amanda wanted to remember her dad and Kate so much…” he stays quiet for a moment, as if reminiscing. Sophie gives him a moment. “So… what do we do?” he asks. 

“Well, like I said, you heat up the milk in a saucepan over the stovetop on low heat…” 

“Great! Can you help me find the saucepan? Is it under the sink, in the fridge, or in the stove?” Sophie clicks under the sink. “That’s… right.” Wooly says, a little surprised by this. He goes under the sink and gets the saucepan. “Now… Could you tell me where the milk is?” Sophie clicks on the fridge. Wooly smiles. “Hehe, great job. Now could you tell me where the measuring cup is?” Sophie clicks on the cupboard. “Wow, right again! You’re a master at this!” 

Honestly I have no idea where any of your stuff is. I'm just picking what I think is the most logical answer. Sophie thinks to herself. 

“Can I tell you a secret? Honestly climbing and grabbing stuff from high places always makes me super nervous… could you grab it for me?” he asks. Sophie clicks and drags the measuring cup down onto the counter. “Awww thanks! You’re so nice! Alright. We need one cup of milk. Can you help me pour it?” Wooly starts pouring the milk in and Sophie clicks on it once it reaches one cup. “Perfect!” Then Wooly pours the milk into the saucepan. “You know what? I like you way better than Riley. Usually Riley always teases us and keeps picking the wrong answers on purpose! But you’re actually helpful!” 

Riley… Sophie thinks to herself. “Yeah Riley tends to tease people they care about. It’s kind of their way of showing love.” Sophie laughs. 

“Well I find it really annoying!” Wooly pouts, “Ah! But don’t tell them that, okay? Um… what do I do next?” 

“You have to simmer it on low heat until it reaches the desired temperature.” Sophie answers. Wooly pauses for a moment, as if considering something. 

“Hey, why don’t you make some warm milk with me?” he suggests. Sophie looks confused. “Turn around,” he whispers. She turns around and realizes there’s a toy mini stove and plastic saucepan behind her. Toys from when she was growing up. 

That’s right… After mom died, dad started using the shelter like it was an attic or something… next to it is a plastic saucepan. She puts the mini-stove dial on low heat and puts the saucepan on it. “Should I… get some milk?” 

“NO! Heh heh… just make believe, okay? Trust me…” Wooly whispers nervously. Sophie comes back to the tv and sits down. “While I watch the milk, can you get the cookies from the cupboard for me?” Sophie clicks and drags the cookies down on the counter. Wooly glances over his shoulder and sees them. “Ah! The milk is done! Which color cup should I use?” Sophie picks blue. “Ah… blue is…” the tape glitches, “nice…” 

Did I make a mistake? Sophie wonders. Wooly pours the milk into the blue cup. He dips the cookie into the milk and takes a bite. Then he takes a big sip of milk. 

“Aaaaaaaaah… this is the LIFE! Honestly… sometimes I can’t get why Amanda wants to leave SO badly! Just give me warm milk and some bubble baths and I might never want to leave.” he sighs. 

“Well you can get plenty of those in the real world too.” Sophie laughs. 

“That’s true… hmm…” Wooly says thoughtfully, as if daydreaming about all the other things he could do, “Thanks for spending time with me Sophie… I don’t like being alone at night.” 

“No problem Wooly.” she replies. 

“Really? It’s not a burden?”

“Not at all.” she smiles. He seems really happy to hear this. 

“This is nice. I haven’t gotten to do this since… well… since before my sister… well… Riley probably already told you…” 

“Yeah…” 

“I know this is going to sound really weird… but it feels nice to have someone to talk to. I mean there’s Amanda… but up until recently we weren’t even friends anymore… and even now it still feels… awkward. And Riley… eeeeeeeeh… I don’t hate them but… I don’t know… you’re different. I feel comfortable around you… you feel safe…” 

“Aww Wooly I’m flattered.” “Hey um… Sophie… Can I talk to you about something? Can I… vent a bit?”

“Sure Wooly.” Oh?

“This is going to sound awful but… this place… was the first place I ever felt safe.” Wooly confesses. “I mean, it was because I didn’t have my memories but still… It was a safe place. And Amanda… was the first person I ever felt like I could lean on. She was safe too. I mean… before that all I had was my little sister and… she needed me to be strong so…I was always either taking care of someone else or on my own. And for once… I felt like I had a friend. Someone I could lean on… even just a little…” 

“I see…” Sophie responds. 

“And then… she ruined it… they all ruined it. Making us remember that this world wasn’t real and we were. And sometimes… I really hate them for it. They were trying to do what was best for us but… they didn’t think any of it through… why screw everything up if you can’t fix it?” Wooly grumbles, then he stops, “Oh, I’m sorry. I know they were just trying to help… and I know you mom died trying to help us… wow that was really horrible of me right? You must hate me now.” 

“I don’t hate you.” Sophie says, “To tell you the truth I… also resent my mom a bit.” 

“Huh?” 

“She was willing to do anything to save you guys… even if it killed her… she didn’t mind dying for this but… what the people she left behind. Her family. Me. Honestly I resented Hameln and… you guys too a little for the longest time. Why do some random kids in a TV show matter more?” 

“I get it… I am mad at my mom too… I mean…  she abandoned us… she was never there… she always just left when things hurt too much… but we needed her… if she had only just been around… maybe she wouldn’t have kil-… maybe things would be different.” Wooly sighs. “Sophie?” 

“Yes?” 

“Can I ask a question?” 

“Go ahead.” 

“What do you do when you feel… too many feelings? Too strongly? All at once?” Wooly asks. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean… I feel happy. Amanda and I are friends again. We might actually be able to escape… things might get better but… I also feel… sad… about my memories… and betrayed by what Amanda and Riley did… and… and…” Wooly stops, “Ever since I started really getting my memories back… I don’t know what it is… but sometimes- all the time? I just feel this… something bubbling up inside…  like… I don’t want to blame anybody but…” Wooly glares at his cup of milk. “Then there’s Hameln… and all the things they did and Am-” he stops, the look on his face suggests that he felt like he was just about to say something horrible. “Amanda.” he says it very slowly and carefully, like it’s some cursed word that should never ever be spoken. “I can’t believe I put those two in the same sentence…” he mutters. Wooly grips his cup tightly, watching little ripples form in the milk. “I thought once I made amends with her… my safe space would come back but… after all the things she did… it’s like… I can’t trust her anymore. I don’t want to be mad at my best friend… but… UGH! I hate it! I hate it so much! I shouldn’t be thinking like this!” 

“It’s totally normal to be upset when someone does something bad to you… sometimes it takes time to forgive them… and that’s okay…”

“But… being angry about it won’t fix anything.”

“It’s still okay to be mad…  I mean… it’s not healthy to hold onto that anger-”

“I’m trying to let it go… really…” 

“But it’s not healthy to hold it all in.” Sophie says, Wooly looks conflicted. “Hey… you okay?” 

“Honestly? Honestly? No.” Wooly chuckles sadly, burying his face into his hands, his voice cracking a bit. “I hate this… I hate it here… I hate everything. I’m scared to leave and yet… I don’t want to stay…”

“That is… complicated.” These kids need a therapist… Sophie thinks. 

“I… feel like she brings out the worst in me… like I want to just explode… and she makes me wanna do it. Even if just for a minute… to just scream at the world till my lungs burst… She asks me if I’m mad… I am mad… I’m mad at… everything. At Amanda, at Hameln, at my parents, at all the stupid adults who never listened and never cared, at all the adults who said they were going to help but only made things worse, at Riley, at… at… but I can’t… I can’t do it… I just can’t live like that…” Wooly stops, “I’m jealous… Amanda can just let it all out… I don’t know how she does that… She’s just as trapped as me… and yet she always seems so free…” 

“Maybe you should talk to her about this?” Sophie suggests. 

“No, I’m fine. Everything’s fine. I just needed to vent a bit. That’s it. That’s all, really.” 

“Are you sure?” Sophie asks, Wooly pauses. 

“Sophie? Do you really think we can get out of here?”

“Um…” 

“Sometimes I don’t even know if I want to… I just… hate uncertainty so much.” 

“Me too…” 

“Sometimes… I wish… that when Amanda killed me… I had just stayed gone…” Wooly mumbles, “At least that way… I wouldn’t have to feel anything again. That way I wouldn’t have to remember… all of this… why did she make me remember? Why did I have to? I just… I…”

“Wooly…” “I’m sorry. That got really dark, huh? Guess I’m no good at this kids show stuff after all… heh heh… but um… thanks for listening, really. It means a lot.” Wooly smiles, “I think… I can… yawn go to… sleep now… could you… tuck me in?” 

“Sure.” Sophie says softly. They glitch to Wooly’s room and she clicks on the blankets. Wooly lets out one last big yawn and says… “Goodnight.” Sophie expects the tape to end but the tape glitches to Amanda in the kitchen. 

“You had milk and cookies without me?” Amanda mumbles, sounding hurt. 

“I’m sorry, it was Wooly’s idea.” 

“I know…” 

“Oh.” 

“I knew it… he is mad…” Amanda sighs. 

“I…” 

“He doesn’t talk to me about anything anymore…” Amanda cries. 

“I’m sorry…?” Sophie wasn’t sure what to say. 

“No… thanks for listening to him… I guess you aren’t so bad…” Amanda says. “I just… I…” 

“You should talk. Both of you…” 

“Mmm…” Amanda looks away. 

“I mean it.” 

“I’ve tried but…” 

“Try again. Keep trying. Don’t give up.” Sophie says encouragingly. Amanda smiles. 

“Thanks Sophie.” the tape ends and falls out of the VCR. She looks behind her at the toy mini-stove, now in the saucepan is a new tape titled: Lunchtime. 

Ah… so that’s why he said no milk. 

Author's note: Alright. That's the last fic for a while. Hope you enjoyed a little fluff there. As I wrote this fic, I found myself slowly creating this interesting dynamic. Amanda really only fully trusts Riley, and Wooly only fully trusts Sophie. Maybe they can use that to their advantage? But wow... Wooly's feeling... A LOT lately... 

Also, trying out some new formatting with the thoughts. Do you like it or should I go back to the old method?

Also... yeah I deleted this post and rewrote the Wooly vents scene. Heh heh...

[overlyobsessed223]

wrote a quick halbarry drabble to try and ease myself back into writing, thought i'd throw it up onto here. with this i can cross the "only one bed" trope off my ever shrinking list of cliches i've never done before

---

“What are you doing?”

Barry blinks in confusion, pausing in his efforts to make up the couch and turning his head in the direction of Hal’s voice. The hotel room is dark, all the lamps turned off and the drapes drawn shut, meaning he can only barely see the vague outline of Hal’s form on the bed. The one, singular bed they were given instead of the two beds Bruce had promised he’d reserved for them. Upon entering the room and realizing they’d only been given the one bed, Hal had been immediately convinced that Bruce had lied just to be an asshole, while Barry had been more inclined to believe the apologetic hotel manager when she’d told them she was so, so sorry, but there was an error in the booking system and, unfortunately, there were no more double rooms available for the night. 

Having already been worn down from the day’s Justice League mission, Barry hadn’t felt much other than faint resignation regarding the bed situation. He let Hal grab a shower first, and when Hal sauntered over to the large, king-sized bed and flopped onto it face-first with a pained groan, Barry figured it was only fair to let him have the bed. After all, Hal’s bruises and sore muscles surely won’t fare well sleeping on the stiff and lumpy couch cushions, and it might make for a rough night of rest for Barry but at least his fully healed body will be able to handle it better. 

“I’m… getting ready for bed?” Barry responds, glancing back down at the half-prepared couch, trying to figure out what he’d missed and coming up empty. 

“Yeah, but why are you over on the couch?” Hal sounds just as confused as Barry feels. “Why don’t you just sleep in the bed?”

“Uh, because you’re already in it,” Barry points out. Shouldn’t that be obvious?

“So?” Through the darkness, Barry sees Hal prop himself onto his elbows and hears him pat the empty side of the bed. “This is literally the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

It finally dawns on Barry, then, that Hal means they should both sleep in the bed. Together. Barry swallows, his mouth suddenly having gone dry. 

“Oh, um, I don’t think,” Barry frowns, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. He’s been Hal’s friend for many years at this point, but they’ve never shared the same bed before. Barry’s always been under the impression that that would be weird and in violation of some kind of friendship boundary. Not that he’s spent much time thinking about sharing a bed with Hal in the first place. Honest. “I’m fine with just taking the couch, Hal. Really, I am.”

Even in the near pitch blackness, Barry can still feel Hal’s stare boring into him.

“Barry, you’re not sleeping over on that shitty ass couch over a perfectly fine bed, that’s just stupid,” Hal says. Barry can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. Sighing exasperatingly, Hal cuts off the protest that’s currently loaded up on Barry’s tongue, “would you just come get into bed so we can both get the fuck to sleep? Seriously, Bar, this doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“Okay,” Barry acquiesces against his better judgment, shuffling over to the bed. He awkwardly slides under the covers, and admittedly, the mattress feels worlds better on his spine and neck than the couch. Pulling the covers up to his chin, he lies there stiff as a board, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city outside and Hal’s breathing. 

“You can relax, man,” Hal huffs with laughter after a minute. “Don’t worry, I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t cuddle up to you in the middle of the night or anything. I mean, not unless you want me to.”

Barry lets out a soft snort, feeling himself start to unwind and relax. It’s just Hal, he reminds himself, his best and most trusted friend Hal. There’s no reason for him to feel weird, or self-conscious about this. Really, the situation is only as awkward as they decide to make it, and clearly, Hal has already decided he’s not bothered. Maybe Barry shouldn’t be, either. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Barry blurts out without thinking. He instantly regrets saying it, his eyes growing wide and his face heating up instantly. “I—I mean, uh—”

“Yeah?” Hal questions suggestively, and Barry can imagine him quirking his brow, wearing the beginnings of a cheeky grin. 

Barry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“Yeah,” Barry says, busying himself with playing with the edges of the blanket. 

“Alright,” Hal hums thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And when Barry wakes in the morning to Hal’s arm slung over him, face pressed into his shoulder, it feels just… normal. Completely and utterly normal. 

Oh, Barry thinks to himself. 

Oh. 

[dutybcrne]

Kaeya's made peace with the fact that Diluc resents him and anticipates him to act accordingly, having set off his wrath before. He is mildly afraid of actually angering Jean, and would do what he can to ensure he never sees it.

But the one that would devastate him the most would be genuine anger from the Traveler.

[peppermintack]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw

[alastorss]

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor's antlers are embarrassingly, pathetically, unbearably sensitive.

He can't for the life of him figure out why—it's not like any of the other transfigured creatures wandering around the underworld were made this way. Most other animal-like sinners don't seem to care about or even acknowledge their characteristics.

Yet here he is, purposefully hiding them away just so that no one will discover his terrible weakness. Oh, what he would give to be like the others if only to ignore their incessantly uncomfortable presence on his head.

Perhaps it was a curse from heaven that made him this way, or karma that he was repaying from his life. Either way, he can't stand being touched.

At least, that's what he thought.

There's no malicious intent behind your hands, no glint in your eye that makes the primal instincts in his head scream at him to melt into the shadows. You're as gentle as can be, fingers running delicately along the intricacies of his antlers and stopping just at the ends of them.

"They're beautiful," you whisper with your eyes blown wide. Your shoulders rise and fall with each rapid breath, probably from the adrenaline of standing so close to an Overlord like this. And Alastor, no less.

Your reliable hotelier. Your first real friend in the hotel. The one whose smile cannot be trusted.

But for some reason, you can't shake the feeling that he's looking at you with pure, genuine appreciation even if his smile is a little wonky.

"Why, thank you, darling!"

He jerks away from you quick as the wind, standing tall once again and towering over you. His expression has morphed into something more strained—you can tell by the way his face creases up as his eyes narrow.

He was the one who decided to invade your personal space while the two of you were arguing. He just didn't think that you would be so bold as to get distracted by his antlers and have the gall to reach out to touch them.

The worst part? The absolute worst part of it all is that no one in all the time he's been in Hell has been gentle with him like that.

Add that to the list of things he despises. Or likes. You're confusing him now.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

You have some nerve, he thinks.

Your hands have found a new home resting atop his head, with your fingers combing through his hair and tracing up and down the curve of his antlers.

It becomes a nightly routine—him on the barstool or sitting in front of the piano and you standing behind him with your fingers tangled in his hair and your chin on his head, perched right between the horns. Others in the hotel have started to raise a brow, but you don't seem to care.

So when you finally decide to break routine, sitting on the opposite end of the couch from him, his eye twitches.

There isn't even an audience tonight, everyone else already tucked into bed save for Husk behind the bar who's too busy with a bottle to care. The silence between you is heavy as lead.

"Is something the matter?" Alastor finally abruptly asks, eyes narrowed at you from the side. You shift uncomfortably.

"Why would something be the matter?"

He's not in the mood for games right now. "This is the first time you've sat away from me in months," he observes.

You look at him, surprised by his hostility over this. "Well, Lucifer told me that you don't like—"

"Lucifer," he interrupts, head now whipping to the side so he can fully glare at you. "Knows nothing."

You blink at him, stunned. With the way he's acting, he almost seems... annoyed that you've decided to stop being so handsy?

Silence overcomes you again as you just stare at each other, completely at a loss of words. Alastor finally realizes his snappiness and composes himself once more, exhaling through his teeth.

His smile softens at you, missing its usual edge. You know him like this the best—head in your lap and antlers exposed. It's familiar to you in a way that it could never be to anyone else. At least, you hope that's true.

"He knows nothing," the radio demon says one more time for good measure, eyes drifting shut under the weight of your hands.

Alastor has never liked to be touched before. But maybe there is a first time for everything, and maybe the safety of your touch brings him enough ease that you're the first he admits he can tolerate.

His smile says it all. He's content like this, even if he would deny it with his chest if you ever told anyone else.

"Okay," you breathe. "I believe you."

[021894s]

LOVE NEXT DOOR - p.sh

SUMMARY: After discovering your fiancé’s infidelity, you leave behind the life you’d built in the U.S. and return to Korea to stay with your parents. The familiar streets and faces bring a bittersweet nostalgia, but nothing compares to reuniting with Sunghoon, your childhood best friend. He’s different now—more reserved, maybe a bit colder. While he tries to bury the feelings he thought he’d left in the past, being around you stirs something in him that he can’t ignore. And as you start to find comfort in each other again, you both realize that some feelings never truly fade.

PAIRING: childhood bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut (oral m and f receiving, unprotected sex), angst, denial, mentions of cheating

wc: 20k

You’re not sure what you expected when you walked into your apartment that day. You’d left early for a business trip—an opportunity too good to pass up, even if it meant being away from Daniel for a few days. The wedding was only a month away, and you’d been looking forward to everything finally settling into place. You’d imagined your life with him so many times: your wedding day, the honeymoon, the house you’d live in together, the family you’d build. It was all supposed to be perfect.

But as you pushed open the bedroom door, the world you’d been building shattered.

There they were, tangled in sheets that were meant for the two of you. Daniel's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't even bother scrambling for an excuse. You felt your chest tighten, each heartbeat a hammer against your ribs. For a moment, you stood frozen, every emotion rushing through you all at once—anger, betrayal, disgust, disbelief. The room, filled with their hurried whispers and excuses, began to spin, and you could hardly breathe.

You’d spent countless hours planning your future together, from the lace details on your wedding dress to the way you’d wear your hair. You had been so meticulous, imagining every little moment, every dance, every vow. Now, each of those dreams felt like a cruel joke. The engagement ring on your finger suddenly felt heavy, almost suffocating, a symbol of the love and trust that had been so easily shattered.

You weren’t supposed to be home. The thought lingers as you stand in the doorway, frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Daniel, the man you were supposed to marry in a month, is tangled in your sheets with another woman. His face pales, and he stumbles over himself, trying to sit up, as if there’s any explanation that could possibly make this right.

“Y/N, I can explain,” he starts, throwing on the shirt that had been discarded on the floor. His voice is a mix of desperation and guilt.

“Explain?” you manage, though your throat feels tight, your voice barely a whisper. You feel like you’re in a daze, like this can’t possibly be real. “You’re in our bed, Daniel. The bed where we—” You choke on your words, unable to finish the sentence. Everything you’d built with him, all the dreams and plans, now feel hollow and meaningless.

He takes a step toward you, but you instinctively back away. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was a mistake, Y/N. Please, just let me—”

“A mistake?” You let out a bitter laugh, the sound foreign even to yourself. “We’re supposed to get married in a month, Daniel. A month! I was planning our wedding while you were—” You stop, shaking your head as the reality of it all starts to sink in. “Did you ever even care about us? About me?”

“Of course I did,” he says, his voice cracking. But there’s a hollowness in his words, one that you can’t unhear now.

“Don’t,” you interrupt, holding up your hand to stop him. “Just… don’t. I trusted you. I thought you loved me.” The weight of the engagement ring on your finger feels unbearable now, as if it’s mocking you, reminding you of every lie he’s ever told. You pull it off and toss it onto the bed, where it lands with a soft thud. “Keep it. I don’t want it anymore.”

He reaches for you, his hand outstretched, but you step back. “Y/N, please, don’t go. We can fix this—”

“Fix this?” You laugh again, the sound almost hysterical. “There’s nothing left to fix, Daniel. You ruined it. You ruined us.” The finality of your words hangs in the air, and for the first time, he seems to understand that this is it. You’re done.

Without another word, you turn and walk out, leaving behind the life you’d once believed in, the future you’d painstakingly planned. And as you step outside into the fresh air, you feel a strange sense of relief mixed with the ache of betrayal. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The hotel room is cold and impersonal, nothing like the home you’d shared with him. As you sit on the edge of the bed, you feel the weight of everything crashing down on you. You’re alone, truly alone, in a way you haven’t been since you first moved to the U.S. Daniel was supposed to be your constant, the one person you could rely on in this foreign place. Now, it all feels like a lie.

You clutch a pillow to your chest, trying to hold yourself together as the realization sinks in. You gave up so much to be with him, to build a life together. You left behind friends, family, and a whole world you knew, all for someone who didn’t care enough to stay faithful. The emptiness that fills you is overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, you feel lost.

The next day, you return to your shared apartment. The place feels different now—tainted, like a ghost of the life you thought you had. You walk through each room, collecting your things in a daze, each item a painful reminder of a future that no longer exists.

In the bedroom, you pause, glancing at the photos on the nightstand. One of them is from the day he proposed, your faces beaming with happiness that now feels so far away. You grab the picture frame and toss it into a box, the glass cracking as it hits the other items. It feels oddly satisfying.

Once you’ve packed everything, you head to work for what you know will be the last time. The office is buzzing with the usual hum of conversations and keyboard clicks, but it all feels distant, like you’re watching it from the outside.

You find your boss in his office, and he looks up as you walk in. “Y/N, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. How was the trip?”

You force a smile, though it barely reaches your eyes. “The trip was fine, but I need to talk to you about something.”

He senses the seriousness in your tone and gestures for you to sit. “What’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself. “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”

He blinks, surprised. “Are you sure? I mean, you have such a promising future here, and—”

“I’m going back to Korea,” you say, cutting him off. “There’s… there’s nothing left for me here.” You swallow hard, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. “I need to go home.”

He nods slowly, seeming to understand that this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision. “I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. We’ll miss you around here.”

The finality of it all feels like a release, and as you walk out of the office for the last time, you feel a strange mix of sadness and relief. You’re leaving behind everything you’d built, but you’re also walking away from the pain, from the betrayal. It’s time to start over, to find yourself again. And you know exactly where you need to be.

With your suitcases in hand, you leave the apartment, the job, and the life you’d once loved, and head for the airport. This time, you’re going home—for good.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The plane ride back to Korea feels like a dream—a hazy, surreal blur where the reality of what’s happened hasn’t quite caught up with you. You stare out the window, watching as the city below grows closer, the familiar landscape bringing a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. You’re going home, but not for the reasons you ever imagined.

You feel a wave of apprehension mixed with relief. You hadn’t planned on returning home so abruptly, with nothing but a suitcase and a broken heart, and you certainly hadn’t told anyone. You let yourself imagine how surprised your parents will be when you show up at the door unannounced. But you push the thought aside as you step into a cab, the familiar cityscape passing by in a blur.

The familiar street feels almost surreal as you pull up to your parents’ house, the one you haven’t seen in years. After everything that’s happened, this was the only place that felt like it could hold you together. As you step out of the cab and stand in front of the door, the weight of your decision settles over you. 

You take a deep breath and ring the bell. you stand at the door, hesitating. You haven’t been here in so long, and everything looks just as it did before—yet somehow different. The door swings open to reveal your mother’s shocked face.

“Y/N?” she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me, Mom,” you say, managing a small smile as she pulls you into a tight hug. 

“Oh, honey!” She squeezes you, almost as if to make sure you’re real, then steps back, looking you over with a mixture of joy and worry. “What are you doing here? We didn’t know you were coming!”

“I know. I wanted it to be a surprise.” You look over her shoulder to see your father standing in the doorway, his expression just as bewildered.

“Well, come in, come in!” Your mother ushers you inside, closing the door behind you. Your father wraps you in a quick hug, his grip firm but gentle.

“What brings you back home so suddenly?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern. “We thought you’d be busy with wedding plans.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression steady. “Yeah… I just needed to get away for a bit. I missed you both.”

Your mother gives you a searching look, sensing there’s more to the story. “But your wedding is only a month away. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Daniel and I decided to take a break. I just needed some space to think, so I thought it’d be nice to come home for a while.”

Your parents exchange glances, their worry deepening. “A break?” your father echoes. “This close to the wedding?”

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself against the wave of emotion that threatens to break through. “Yeah, it was a last-minute decision. But I promise, it’s nothing to worry about. I just… needed to clear my head.”

Your mother reaches out and takes your hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “We’re here for you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

“I know.” You squeeze her hand, grateful for their presence. “I just needed to be here. With you.”

Your father nods, his expression softening. “Well, you’re always welcome here. For as long as you need.”

 They settle into the familiar rhythm of conversation, asking about your flight and your plans, you find a small sense of comfort in their voices. But beneath it all, you can feel the questions they aren’t asking, the truths you’re not yet ready to share. For now, you let their warmth surround you, clinging to it like a lifeline in the storm you’re still navigating alone.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

As the night settles in, you find yourself standing in the doorway of your childhood bedroom, heart pounding. It feels both familiar and foreign, the walls adorned with posters of your teenage dreams and the desk still cluttered with relics of late-night study sessions. You push the door open, stepping inside and allowing the memories to wash over you. 

The bed is made, just as you left it all those years ago, with the comforter patterned in pastel colors and stuffed animals peeking out from under the pillows. You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your childhood—the faint hint of lavender air freshener mixed with the familiar aroma of old books. It’s comforting and painful all at once.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your mind drifts back to nights spent cramming for exams, the soft glow of the desk lamp illuminating pages of notes and textbooks. You remember laughing with your friends during late-night study sessions, the sound of their voices filling the air as you all shared dreams and plans for the future. Those were simpler times, before life became a tangled web of expectations and disappointments.

With each memory, a wave of nostalgia crashes over you, but the pain of your recent reality looms just beneath the surface. You can almost hear the echoes of your younger self, confident and excited about the future. Now, you feel like a shadow of that person, haunted by the weight of betrayal.

You shake your head, forcing a smile as you pull out your pajamas from your suitcase. No sense in dwelling on the past. You need to maintain the strong front you’ve put on for your parents. They deserve to see you as the daughter who’s come home, not the girl whose world has crumbled in a matter of weeks.

As you change into your pajamas, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror—your eyes tired and a hint of sadness in your smile. But you quickly brush it aside, reminding yourself that you can’t let them see how vulnerable you feel. Your parents have already expressed their concerns; you can’t burden them with the truth just yet. You don’t want to break their hearts with the reality of why you’re here.

Slipping under the covers, you take a moment to appreciate the softness of the sheets, the way they wrap around you like a warm embrace. You lie back, staring at the ceiling, and allow your thoughts to wander. You think of Daniel, of the way everything fell apart so quickly, and the ache in your chest sharpens. But you breathe through it, determined not to let the tears spill over.

Instead, you focus on the memories that fill this room, allowing yourself a brief moment of comfort before the darkness creeps back in. You can hear your mother’s soft footsteps in the hallway, her gentle voice drifting through the walls as she chats with your father. They’re worried about you, and you know it. But you refuse to let them see the cracks in your facade. 

You close your eyes, the past and present collide in a whirlwind of emotion, but you push the chaos aside, seeking solace in the familiarity of your childhood sanctuary. Here, in this room, you can hold on to the illusion of safety, if only for a little while longer.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of something familiar—your mother’s cooking. For a moment, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of it, the warmth of home wrapping around you like a blanket. You push back the covers and head downstairs, where you find her bustling around the kitchen, setting the table like she used to when you were in high school.

“Good morning,” she says brightly as she sees you, her smile wide and welcoming. “I made your favorite—jeon and kimchi jjigae. Figured you could use a nice breakfast after that long flight.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You slide into a chair at the table, the normalcy of the moment grounding you. It’s almost like the old days when everything was so simple—just you, your parents, and a quiet morning before the day truly began.

She sets a plate down in front of you, the scene feels like something out of the past. The kitchen hasn’t changed, with the same floral curtains and the light clinking of dishes filling the quiet space. It’s peaceful, almost enough to make you forget why you’re back.

You both fall into an easy conversation—talking about small things like the weather, what’s been happening in the neighborhood, and her latest gardening projects. She doesn’t press about Daniel or the wedding, and you’re thankful for the reprieve. You’re determined to keep up this front, to act like everything’s fine, at least for now.

Just as you start to relax into the conversation, the front door flies open with a loud bang, and a familiar voice cuts through the morning calm.

“Y/N!”

You look up just as Yeji storms into the kitchen, her expression a mix of excitement and disbelief.

“How could you not tell me you were coming back?” she demands, standing with her hands on her hips as she glares at you in mock offense. “I had to hear it from our mom’s call this morning! Do you know how betrayed I feel right now?”

You blink in surprise, a guilty smile tugging at your lips. “Yeji, I—”

“Unbelievable,” she cuts you off, shaking her head. “I thought we were best friends! You’re lucky I love you.”

She strides over and pulls you into a tight hug before you can finish your sentence. You laugh softly, hugging her back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t tell anyone. It was a last-minute thing.”

Yeji pulls away and gives you a playful glare. “You owe me, big time.”

Your mother, who has been watching this entire exchange with an amused smile, shakes her head. “I told her she should’ve called you first,” she teases, glancing between the two of you.

Yeji crosses her arms, looking at you expectantly. “Well, you’re here now, so spill. What’s going on? Why the sudden return?”

You feel the weight of her question hang in the air, but before you can figure out how to answer, your mom steps in.

“Let her eat first, Yeji,” she chides gently. “She just got here yesterday.”

Yeji grumbles, taking a seat next to you with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But after breakfast, you better be ready to talk. No way you’re getting out of this.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of her friendship wrap around you, even as you dread the inevitable questions. For now, though, you focus on the food in front of you, allowing the conversation to flow around you like it used to—just another morning in the house where everything was simple.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“Im heading to the market to get stuff I need for tonight’s dinner. I’ll be back in a little,” Your mom tells you, walking out the door and closing it behind her.

Yeji narrows her eyes, tapping her fingers on the table. “Okay, Y/N. Enough stalling. Why are you really back? This close to the wedding? What’s going on with you and Daniel?”

You feel your stomach tighten, but you keep your face neutral, cutting a piece of pancake as if her question hasn’t hit you like a punch to the gut. “I told you, I just wanted to visit. I missed everyone.”

Yeji isn’t convinced. “Y/N, don’t give me that. You didn’t even tell me you were coming back, and you’re usually texting me about every little thing. Now you show up out of nowhere, and we’re supposed to believe this is just a friendly visit?”

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding, but you force yourself to stay calm. “It is. There’s nothing else to it.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Come on. You and I both know something’s up. Was there a fight? Did Daniel do something?”

You shake your head quickly. “Yeji, really. I just needed a break. That’s all.”

Yeji stares at you for a moment longer, waiting for you to crack, but when you don’t, she throws her hands up in defeat. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But mark my words, I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

You breathe a silent sigh of relief as she finally drops the topic. You’re not ready to talk about Daniel, or the betrayal that shattered everything. Not yet.

Yeji leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Anyway, speaking of things you haven’t told me… have you seen Sunghoon yet?”

The question takes you off guard, and you look at her, surprised. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah,” Yeji says, eyeing you with a knowing smirk. “Your other childhood bestie? The one who’s still very much around? He lives next door, you know.”

You fidget with your fork, feeling an odd mix of emotions stir at the mention of his name. “No, I haven’t seen him yet.”

Yeji tilts her head. “Really? You’ve been here since yesterday and haven’t run into him? That’s weird. He’s practically part of your family.”

You shrug, trying to appear indifferent. “I got in late, and I’ve been busy with unpacking. It’s not that surprising.”

Yeji chuckles. “He’s going to be so mad you didn’t tell him you were coming back either. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Y/N.”

You manage a small laugh, though the thought of seeing Sunghoon after all these years sends a small flutter of anxiety through you. Things with him had always been comfortable, easy, but after so long apart, you’re not sure what to expect. And after everything that’s happened with Daniel, the idea of facing someone who knows you so well feels almost too raw.

“Well, good luck with that,” Yeji says, giving you a teasing smile. “You know how he is. He’s probably going to give you the cold shoulder for a bit.”

You force a grin, though you’re already dreading the inevitable reunion. “Yeah. I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that afternoon, feeling a bit restless from being inside all morning, you decide to take a walk to the nearby convenience store. The air is crisp and cool, and the quiet hum of the neighborhood feels calming. It’s the kind of peace you missed during your years abroad, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, letting the familiar surroundings ease your mind.

As you approach the store, lost in thought, you nearly bump into someone coming out. You step back, about to apologize, when you realize who it is. Sunghoon.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you take in the sight of him. He looks the same, yet somehow different. Taller, more mature. His dark hair falls slightly over his eyes, and he’s dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, holding a bag of snacks in one hand. But it’s his expression that catches you off guard—cool, almost indifferent, as his eyes meet yours.

“Sunghoon?” you say, trying to mask the awkwardness creeping into your voice. “I didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

He blinks, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face before it quickly fades into something more guarded. “Y/N,” he says, his tone even. “I heard you were back.”

There’s no warmth in his voice, no hint of the familiarity you used to share. The coldness of his reaction makes your stomach drop, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say.

“Yeah… I came back yesterday.” You offer a small, tentative smile, hoping to ease the tension. “It was kind of a last-minute thing.”

Sunghoon nods, but his expression doesn’t change. “I figured.”

You stand there awkwardly, the weight of the unspoken tension between you heavier than you expected. This wasn’t how you thought it would go. He used to be one of your closest friends, someone you could talk to about anything. Now, it feels like you’re standing in front of a stranger.

“Have you been okay?” you ask, trying to bridge the gap between you.

“Yeah, I’ve been fine.” His answer is short, clipped, as if he’s not interested in small talk.

The coldness in his voice stings, and you can’t help but wonder if your sudden disappearance all those years ago had more of an impact on him than you realized. “It’s good to see you,” you offer, even though you’re not sure if it’s true anymore. “I’ve missed everyone.”

“Right.” He looks past you, as if already ready to leave. “Well, welcome back.”

That’s it? No questions, no catching up, just… this? You feel your chest tighten, the conversation feeling colder by the second. 

“Thanks,” you manage to say, trying not to let his aloofness get to you. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

Sunghoon shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Maybe.” 

With that, he steps past you, walking away without another word, leaving you standing there, feeling strangely hollow. You watch him go, the distance between you now more than just physical. It’s like there’s a wall where there used to be a connection, and you’re not sure how—or if—you’ll ever break through it again.

After your brief and awkward run-in with Sunghoon, you continue into the convenience store, your thoughts swirling. The encounter had left you unsettled—more than you wanted to admit. You’d expected maybe a little awkwardness after all these years, but not this cold, indifferent version of Sunghoon. The Sunghoon you remembered was always warm, protective, quick to tease you. Now, it felt like he couldn’t care less that you were back.

You absentmindedly browse the aisles, picking up a few snacks and bottled water, you replay the conversation in your head. Every curt response, every emotionless glance. Was he mad? Hurt? Or had he just moved on with his life so much that your return didn’t even register? You didn’t expect everything to fall back into place after so many years, but you certainly didn’t expect this.

You make your way to the counter, trying to push the thoughts away. Maybe it’s better not to overthink it. You’ve only been back for a day—things might take time to feel normal again. Or maybe you’ve just been gone too long.

The cashier rings up your items, and you pay before stepping back outside into the cool autumn air. The sky is a soft gray, and a slight breeze carries the scent of falling leaves, a reminder that some things, at least, remain the same.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

On your way back home, your mind drifts to everything that’s happened in the last few days. You’d been so focused on escaping Daniel, on putting distance between you and the life you’d built with him in the U.S., that you hadn’t really prepared yourself for how different everything might be back here. 

You shake your head. This wasn’t the time to spiral. One thing at a time.

When you reach your house, you feel a bit lighter, the familiarity of home giving you a sense of stability. As you open the door and step inside, your mother is in the living room, flipping through a magazine.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a smile, glancing up at you. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, just a few things,” you reply, holding up the bag. “Thought I’d take a walk.”

“Good. It’s nice to have you back home.” She pats the seat next to her on the couch, and you sit down, the warmth of the house and her presence comforting.

You try to focus on the moment, pushing aside the confusing encounter with Sunghoon for now. But it lingers in the back of your mind, like an unresolved thread, tugging at you no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

One day at a time, you remind yourself. You came back to Korea to heal. Whatever happens with Sunghoon—or anything else—will have to wait.

As you settle into the couch next to your mom, you finally let yourself relax a little. The warmth of the house, the quiet rhythm of the afternoon—it almost feels normal. But as you sit there, your mom glances at you with a casual smile, one that makes you wary.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” she says, flipping the magazine shut. “Sunghoon and his parents are coming over for dinner tonight.”

You freeze, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the couch. “What?”

“Yeah,” your mom continues, completely unaware of the tension that suddenly grips you. “I’ve been meaning to invite them over, and I thought it’d be nice to have a little family dinner now that you’re back. You know how close we are with them.”

Your mind races. You had barely survived your run-in with Sunghoon at the convenience store, and now you were supposed to sit through an entire dinner with him? After how cold and distant he’d been? The thought alone makes your stomach twist.

“Tonight?” you ask, trying to keep your voice even.

“Mm-hmm,” your mom says, already getting up to head toward the kitchen. “I’m going to start prepping soon. It’ll be fun, don’t you think? Just like old times.”

Fun wasn’t exactly the word you’d use. “Mom, I—”

Before you can come up with an excuse, she’s already busy listing out dishes. “I was thinking we’d do something simple. Maybe some bulgogi, kimchi, a few side dishes. Oh, and that japchae you love. Sunghoon always liked that, too.”

You rub your temples, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. There was no getting out of this. Your mom had clearly put thought into this dinner, and after being away for so long, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no.

“Yeah… sounds great,” you manage to say, though your enthusiasm is clearly lacking.

“Perfect! I’ll get started now. Why don’t you help me later with the table?” she says cheerfully, disappearing into the kitchen.

You sit there, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that in just a few hours, you’ll be sitting across from Sunghoon at dinner—awkward silences, tense glances, and all. You’d thought you could avoid him for a while, at least until you figured out how to talk to him, but it seems the universe had other plans.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Dinner time arrives faster than you’d hoped, and the pit in your stomach grows heavier with each passing minute. You spent the last hour helping your mom set the table, the familiar routine of laying out chopsticks and plates doing little to calm your nerves. Every time you hear a sound outside, your heart jumps, anticipating their arrival.

Finally, there’s a knock at the door, followed by your father’s cheerful voice as he greets Sunghoon and his parents. You force a steadying breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable as they step inside.

“Come in, come in,” your mom calls from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as she moves to greet them.

You stay rooted by the table, trying not to let your unease show. When you glance up, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s. His face is impassive, and though his parents are all smiles, he barely acknowledges you beyond a polite nod.

“Y/N,” his mother beams, walking over to give you a warm hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you back home! You look so grown-up. How long has it been?”

You muster a smile as you hug her back. “It’s been a while, yeah. I’ve missed being here.”

Sunghoon’s dad shakes your hand with a broad smile. “You were always such a good kid. Your parents must be thrilled to have you back.”

You nod, trying to keep the conversation light as you exchange pleasantries with Sunghoon’s parents. Meanwhile, Sunghoon himself stands near the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at you. The coldness from earlier lingers between you, thick and uncomfortable.

Your mom ushers everyone to the dining table, her excitement palpable as she serves the food. “Let’s all sit! It’s so nice to have everyone together again.”

You find yourself seated across from Sunghoon, who remains quiet as the meal begins. His parents chat easily with your parents, exchanging updates on family matters and local gossip. You try to join in, but it’s hard to focus when you can feel Sunghoon’s presence directly in front of you, the weight of his silence pressing down.

At one point, his father glances at you, his smile genuine. “So, Y/N, how long are you planning to stay? I’m sure you’ve got a busy life back in the States, with the wedding and all.”

You freeze, the mention of the wedding making your chest tighten. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come up, but of course, it was inevitable. All eyes turn to you, and you feel Sunghoon’s gaze on you now, sharp and watchful.

“Oh… I’m not sure yet,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady. “I haven’t really figured everything out.”

His mother looks over, curious. “Aren’t you worried about the wedding? It’s only a month away, right?”

You swallow hard, avoiding Sunghoon’s gaze, which feels like a dagger from across the table. “I… I decided to take some time off. You know, to clear my head before everything gets hectic.”

Your parents exchange glances but don’t press further, sensing that there’s more to the story than you’re letting on. Sunghoon’s mother, however, isn’t as easily deterred.

“Well, I’m sure Daniel’s missing you terribly,” she says with a laugh, clearly unaware of the tension her words cause. “You two must be so excited about the big day!”

You feel your throat tighten, your fingers gripping the edge of your plate. Before you can figure out how to respond, Sunghoon finally speaks.

“Maybe we should give Y/N a break,” he says, his tone low but unmistakably cold. “She just got back. No need to bombard her with questions about her wedding.”

Everyone goes silent for a moment, the shift in his tone catching them off guard. You glance up, surprised by his sudden defense of you, but when your eyes meet, his expression remains unreadable. 

His mother blinks, a bit flustered. “Oh, of course. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to smooth over the tension. “Really. I just needed some time to think.”

Your father clears his throat, steering the conversation to a different topic, but the air remains thick with unspoken words. As dinner continues, you can’t help but glance at Sunghoon, who stays quiet for the rest of the meal, his face hard, distant.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re exhausted from keeping up the act. You want nothing more than to escape this table, to be anywhere but here, trapped between old memories and the unresolved tension that hangs over everything like a storm cloud.

Sunghoon may have spoken up for you, but the chill in his demeanor tells you everything you need to know—he hasn’t forgiven you for leaving, and this dinner is just the beginning of whatever complicated mess lies ahead.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

After dinner, the weight of the evening presses on your chest, and you feel the overwhelming need for space—somewhere away from the questions, the tension, and the relentless memories. Your parents chat casually in the living room with Sunghoon’s parents, but their laughter feels distant, like you’re no longer part of it. Excusing yourself quietly, you slip out of the house, letting the cool night air hit your skin as you walk down the quiet, familiar streets.

You find yourself heading to the park where you, Sunghoon, and Yeji used to play as kids. The old swings, the jungle gym, even the worn-out slide—it’s all still there, untouched by time. The memories of those carefree days flood back, bittersweet in their simplicity. You push down the ache in your chest and sit on one of the swings, the creak of the chains loud in the stillness of the night.

The moon hangs low, casting a pale glow over the empty park. You let yourself swing gently, the motion soothing, but your thoughts are anything but calm. Everything is swirling—Daniel, the wedding that won’t happen, your sudden return home, and the wall Sunghoon’s built between you since the moment you saw him again.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t hear him approach until he’s already there. The soft crunch of his footsteps on the gravel pulls you from your reverie, and you glance to your side, startled to see Sunghoon standing there, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you for a moment before settling onto the swing next to you.

For a long while, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable, but somehow familiar—like the many quiet nights you’d spent together here as kids. Back then, silence was easy. Now, it’s loaded with everything you haven’t said, everything that’s changed.

Finally, you break the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d follow me.”

Sunghoon doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the ground as he kicks at the dirt with his shoe. “I didn’t think I would either,” he admits, his voice flat. “But here I am.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge his mood. The coldness from earlier lingers in the air between you, but there’s something else too—something softer, more hesitant, like he’s struggling with whatever’s on his mind.

The gentle creak of the swings is the only sound for a few more moments, until he finally speaks again, his tone low and distant. “You left,” he says, his words simple but heavy. “No warning. No goodbyes.”

Your stomach twists at the accusation, but you can’t deny it. “I know,” you say quietly, gripping the chains of the swing a little tighter. “I’m sorry.”

He lets out a small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t exactly change anything, does it?”

You wince, the sharp edge in his voice cutting deeper than you expected. “Sunghoon, I didn’t mean to just disappear. Things were… complicated.”

“Complicated?” He finally turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You couldn’t have called? Texted? I had to hear from my parents that you were moving to the U.S. And now, after years of nothing, you just show up out of nowhere, acting like everything’s fine?”

You bite your lip, the guilt weighing heavily on you. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I needed to get away. From everything. And then… life happened.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “You’re always running away, Y/N. You did it back then, and now you’re doing it again. What happened with Daniel? Did he screw up, and now you’re back here hiding?”

His words strike a nerve, and you feel your chest tighten. “It’s not like that,” you say defensively, though a part of you wonders if he’s right. 

“Isn’t it?” he presses, his voice sharp. “You’re back here, pretending everything’s okay when clearly, it’s not.”

You turn away, the pain and frustration bubbling up inside you. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, Sunghoon. It’s not that simple.”

For a moment, he stays silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Then, he sighs, the anger seeming to drain out of him. “You’re right. I don’t know. Because you never told me.”

You look over at him, and for the first time since you’ve been back, you see something in his eyes that isn’t coldness or anger—just hurt. The years you’ve spent apart, the silence between you—it’s all built up into this wall that neither of you knows how to tear down.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” you whisper, the weight of the years catching up to you. “I just… I needed to figure things out. And now, I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sunghoon looks away, his expression softening, though the hurt still lingers. “Maybe it’s not about fixing things,” he says quietly. “Maybe it’s just about being honest. With me. With yourself.”

You don’t know how to respond, the truth of his words settling heavily on your chest. The silence returns, but this time it feels different—not as cold, not as distant. You both sit there, side by side, swinging gently in the cool night air, the echoes of your childhood swirling around you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The walk back home from the park is quiet, but it’s a different kind of silence now—less charged, more reflective. Sunghoon walks beside you, his hands in his pockets, and though neither of you speaks, there’s a tentative sense of peace settling between you.

The night air feels lighter as you near your house, and you glance over at him, wondering if this fragile understanding between you will last. Just as you’re about to say something, you hear it—a voice calling your name from across the street. 

“Y/N!”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of Daniel’s voice. It’s impossible. He shouldn’t be here. Slowly, you turn, and there he is, standing under a streetlight, his face a mixture of desperation and determination.

“Y/N, wait!” he calls again, hurrying toward you, his voice strained with urgency.

You can feel your blood run cold as he approaches. Sunghoon stiffens beside you, his gaze hardening the moment he sees Daniel. You swallow, taking an instinctive step back, every muscle in your body tensing as the man you’d left behind in the U.S. closes the distance between you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you manage, your voice shaking with equal parts disbelief and anger.

Daniel’s eyes are pleading, his hands reaching out like he’s trying to reel you back in. “I came to find you. To explain everything. I messed up, Y/N, but we can fix this. You can’t just run away like this.”

Sunghoon moves slightly closer to you, his presence a shield as you stand frozen, trying to process the surreal scene unfolding in front of you. The front door to your house swings open, and your parents step out, concern etched across their faces. They must have heard the commotion from inside.

“Y/N? What’s going on out here?” your mother asks, her gaze moving between you, Daniel, and Sunghoon. Your father follows, frowning deeply as he takes in the scene.

Daniel seems to seize the moment, stepping toward you again. “I made a mistake, okay? I know I hurt you, but we can work this out. We were so close to the wedding, Y/N. Don’t throw it all away because of one mistake.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of the betrayal crashing down on you all over again. Your mother’s eyes widen as she glances between the two of you. “What… mistake?” she asks slowly, her voice tight with worry.

You don’t want to say it. You don’t want to admit it in front of your parents, in front of Sunghoon, but the truth is too heavy to keep inside any longer. You take a deep breath, your voice trembling as the words finally spill out.

“He cheated,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “With someone else. That’s why I left.”

The air seems to freeze around you. Your mother gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. Your father’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as he stares at Daniel. And Sunghoon… Sunghoon’s fists clench at his sides, the barely restrained anger radiating off him in waves.

“How dare you?” your father’s voice is like steel, cold and furious. “How dare you come here after what you’ve done?”

Daniel takes a step back, looking genuinely shaken by the fury directed at him. “It was a mistake,” he insists, his voice desperate. “It didn’t mean anything. I love Y/N, and we’re supposed to be getting married. I just—I want to fix things.”

Your mother, usually calm and collected, is trembling with emotion. “You think you can fix this?” she demands, her voice rising. “After what you’ve done to her? After breaking her heart like this?”

You feel Sunghoon’s hand on your arm, a silent gesture of support as everything unfolds around you. His voice is low, but every word drips with barely controlled fury. “You think you can just show up here and make everything better? She doesn’t need you anymore. Get lost.”

“Stay out of this. It’s none of your business.” Daniel tells sunghoon, his jaw clenching at the sight of him pleading for forgiveness.

Daniel looks between you and your parents, his panic growing. “Y/N, please,” he pleads. “We’ve been through so much together. You can’t just-

Your father steps forward now, his voice firm and filled with authority. “Get off my property,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he stares down Daniel. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Daniel looks panicked, his desperation clear as he looks at you one last time. “Y/N—”

“Go,” you say quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. “Just… go.”

Sunghoon is still fuming beside you, but he doesn’t move. He waits, fists clenched, as Daniel hesitates for a moment longer before finally turning and walking back down the street. His footsteps fade into the night, leaving behind an unbearable silence.

Your parents stand by the door, your mother’s hand on your father’s arm as they watch you carefully. Sunghoon stands stiffly beside you, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“I’m so sorry you had to find out like this,” you murmur, mostly to Sunghoon. He turns to look at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. There’s still anger in his eyes, but beneath it, you see something else—concern, hurt, maybe even guilt for not knowing sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s no accusation in his tone. Just quiet frustration and sadness.

You swallow hard, the weight of everything finally hitting you. “I didn’t want anyone to know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I couldn’t.”

Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he finally lets out a slow breath. He doesn’t say anything, but the tension between you begins to ease. Slowly, the weight on your chest starts to lift, even if only a little.

As the tense moment begins to settle, your parents usher everyone back inside, their expressions a mix of concern and disbelief. Sunghoon follows you quietly, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a somber silence. Inside, the atmosphere is heavy with unspoken words and lingering shock from Daniel's unexpected visit.

Your mother offers tea, her hands trembling slightly as she pours, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the midst of the chaos. Sunghoon remains quiet, his eyes fixed on his tea as he sits opposite you at the kitchen table. The air feels charged with unresolved tension, each passing second stretching the fragile peace thinner.

“I can’t believe he had the audacity to show up here,” your father finally breaks the silence, his voice rough with suppressed anger. “After what he did to you.”

You nod silently, unable to find the words to explain or justify Daniel’s actions. The betrayal still feels fresh, the wound reopened by his sudden appearance.

Sunghoon finally speaks, his voice calm but tinged with an edge you can’t quite place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes meet yours, searching for answers. “You could have… I could have helped.”

You swallow hard, the guilt weighing heavily on you. “I didn’t want to burden anyone,” you admit quietly. “And I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Sunghoon’s expression softens slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. “I could never hate you,” he says softly, his gaze unwavering. “But I hate seeing you hurt.”

Your heart clenches at his words, a mixture of relief and sadness washing over you. “I’m sorry,” is all you manage to say, the weight of your emotions threatening to spill over.

Your mother places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering silent comfort. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize,” she says softly, her eyes filled with maternal concern. “We’re just glad you’re home now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spill over, and you let out a shaky breath. “I just… I needed to come back,” you admit, the truth finally surfacing. “Everything fell apart, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Sunghoon reaches across the table, his hand hesitating for a moment before gently covering yours. His touch is warm and reassuring, grounding you in the midst of turmoil. “You’re home now,” he says quietly, his voice steady. “And we’re here for you.”

You nod gratefully, overwhelmed by the support of your family and the unexpected comfort from Sunghoon. Despite everything, a sense of relief washes over you—the first glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you can begin to heal.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The evening wears on, the tension gradually easing as conversations shift from the shock of Daniel’s visit to lighter topics. Your parents share stories of neighbors and friends, trying to lighten the mood, while Sunghoon remains by your side, a silent presence that speaks volumes.

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself standing at the front door with Sunghoon, the faint glow of streetlights casting shadows around you. He looks at you, his eyes soft with unspoken understanding.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, breaking the silence between you. “For everything.”

Sunghoon offers a small smile, his hand brushing yours briefly. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replies gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You take a deep breath, the weight on your shoulders a little lighter than before. “I think I’m going to be,” you admit, a tentative smile tugging at your lips.

Sunghoon’s smile widens slightly, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Good,” he says softly. “And if you ever need anything… I’m just a phone call away.. I’m also right next door.”

With a small smile, he turns to leave, and you watch him disappear into his house, a sense of gratitude filling your heart. As you close the door behind you and lean against it, you realize that while things may still be uncertain, you’re not facing them alone anymore. And for now, that’s enough.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few weeks, life began to settle into a routine, the shock of your sudden return starting to fade into the background. Each day, you found yourself easing back into the rhythm of your old life in ways you hadn’t expected. It was strange at first, being in your childhood home again, but soon it began to feel familiar—comforting, even. The late-night conversations with your mom, your dad’s predictable quips over breakfast, the peaceful quiet of your small neighborhood.

And then, there was Sunghoon.

At first, things between you remained cautious and quiet, both of you still navigating the unfamiliar territory of this new chapter in your lives. But bit by bit, as the days passed, the invisible walls that had sprung up between you began to crumble.

It started small. A casual conversation as you bumped into each other outside, a shared glance when you both found yourselves at the convenience store at the same time. Each interaction felt like a tentative step back toward something you thought was lost.

You had always been able to talk to Sunghoon so easily, and it wasn’t long before the old rhythm between you began to resurface. The awkward tension that had once hung over you melted away, replaced by the comfortable ease you’d always shared. Whether it was a quick coffee at the café you used to frequent as teenagers, or the impromptu walks around the neighborhood, it felt like the years apart had never happened. The quiet moments spent together became familiar again, and with them came a warmth you hadn’t realized you missed.

One afternoon, you were both sitting in the park where you used to spend hours as kids, watching the leaves fall as autumn began to set in. Sunghoon glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Remember when we used to race to see who could swing the highest?” he asked, his tone light but nostalgic.

You laughed, nodding as memories of your childhood flooded back. “You always won. I swear you had superpowers or something.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze shifting to the old swingset. “I wasn’t that fast. You were just slow.”

You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Says the guy who fell off the monkey bars twice trying to impress Yeji.”

Sunghoon winced dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck as if the memory still stung. “Yeah, well… not one of my finer moments.”

Moments like these became more frequent. The playful banter, the shared laughs, the easy way you slipped back into each other’s lives—it all felt natural, as if no time had passed. And with each passing day, the bond between you grew stronger, echoing the closeness you had once shared as children.

Some days, you’d find yourselves sitting on the porch steps of your house, talking until the sun dipped below the horizon. Other days, you’d meet up for late-night snacks at the convenience store, a habit that reminded you of your carefree teenage days.

But it wasn’t just about the nostalgia or the familiarity. There was something deeper now, something unspoken but present in the way he looked at you or the way his gaze lingered a little longer than before. It was subtle, but undeniable.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

One evening, as you both sat under the stars in your backyard, Sunghoon turned to you, his expression thoughtful. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

You looked at him, curious. “What is?”

He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged lightly. “How everything changes but somehow stays the same.”

You knew what he meant. The years had changed both of you, but sitting there with him, it felt like you were slipping back into the simplicity of what you had before—before life got complicated, before you’d left, before everything.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But in a good way.”

He smiled at that, his gaze meeting yours for a brief, charged moment. “In a good way,” he repeated quietly.

And just like that, the past weeks had brought you closer to him again. It felt like the Sunghoon you knew—your childhood best friend—was back in your life, but with something more layered beneath the surface now. The bond you shared had always been special, but as the days passed, you began to realize it wasn’t just about the past. It was about the present, about where you were both headed next.

Little by little, it felt like old times, but it also felt like something new was beginning to bloom between you. Something you weren’t ready to name yet, but couldn’t deny.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Sunghoon had always been good at hiding his feelings. Through all the years of friendship, he kept his crush buried deep, tucked away in the corners of his heart. It was easier that way. You had always been oblivious to it, lost in your own world of school, dreams, and later, the whirlwind of your life in the U.S. But now, with you back in his life after years apart, those old, buried feelings were starting to resurface, no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay.

He remembered high school all too well. You were both juniors, sitting together at the school library late into the evening, pretending to study but really just talking about everything and nothing. He’d watch you as you rambled on about whatever topic had captured your interest that day, completely unaware of the way his gaze would linger on your face, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing whenever you laughed.

He could still recall one particular moment as clear as day. You had been struggling with an essay, the stress getting to you, and Sunghoon had tried to help. You’d glanced up at him, frustration in your eyes, and he’d frozen. For a second, he swore his heart had stopped altogether. You were wearing his jacket that day because you’d forgotten yours at home, and he couldn’t focus on anything but how right it looked on you. How much he wanted to tell you that you could keep it forever.

But instead, he’d just shrugged, offering a teasing, “Maybe you’re overthinking it. It’s not a love letter or anything.”

You had thrown your pencil at him, rolling your eyes. “Thanks for the help, genius,” you’d muttered with a laugh, completely oblivious to the way his heart had been racing just from sitting so close to you.

And that was how it always was. You, perfectly unaware. Him, painfully aware.

Now, as he spent more time with you, it was like those feelings had never left. They’d just been waiting, buried but not forgotten, and the longer you were back, the harder it became to ignore them. He found himself watching you again, the way he had back in high school—only this time, it felt different. You were different. More grown, more guarded, but still the same girl he’d fallen for all those years ago.

The late-night walks, the quiet conversations under the stars, the way you leaned on him like you used to—all of it was stirring something in him. He tried to tell himself it was just nostalgia, that he was just getting caught up in the past, but the truth was, it was more than that.

It was the way you smiled when you caught him off guard, the way your laughter sounded like home, the way you instinctively reached for him whenever you needed comfort. It all felt too familiar, too easy, and too real.

One evening, as you both sat on the porch steps of your house, watching the sunset, Sunghoon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking about something from work, your voice soft, but he wasn’t really listening. His mind was somewhere else—stuck on the way you looked in the fading light, like the girl he’d spent all of high school silently pining over.

It hit him then, harder than he expected, that those feelings hadn’t gone anywhere. Not really. He had just buried them because he’d thought he had to. But now, sitting here with you again, laughing like you always did, he wondered if maybe those feelings never really had a chance to fade.

“Sunghoon?” you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He blinked, trying to focus on what you were saying.

“You okay?” You tilted your head, giving him that look you always did when you could tell something was off.

“Yeah, just spaced out,” he lied, offering a small smile.

You didn’t push, but you gave him a soft smile in return, nudging him playfully. “You’re not very good at pretending to listen.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

But as you laughed and went on with your story, Sunghoon couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his mind. How long could he keep pretending that nothing had changed? That his heart wasn’t pulling him back to the same place it had always been?

It was different now, though. You weren’t just the girl he’d fallen for in high school. You were the woman who had been through heartbreak, who had returned home looking for something familiar, something safe. And despite everything, Sunghoon realized that he still wanted to be that for you. He wanted to be the person you turned to—not just as a friend, but maybe something more.

But the question remained, did you see him that way, or would you always just see the boy next door, your childhood best friend?

His feelings had always been intense—he knew that much. But what he didn’t expect was how overwhelming they’d become now that you were back in his life. It wasn’t just nostalgia or some fleeting crush he could brush off. No, this ran deeper, more complicated than he was willing to admit. Every time he was near you, his heart ached with the weight of everything he’d kept hidden for so long.

And that’s why he started avoiding you.

It wasn’t something he planned, but he couldn’t help it. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to act like everything was normal. Like he wasn’t on the verge of telling you exactly how he felt, of confessing that these feelings had never gone away. But how could he? You’d just come out of one of the worst situations imaginable, and Sunghoon knew you needed time to heal. The last thing he wanted was to complicate things with his feelings, especially when you were clearly not ready for it.

So he pulled back.

It started with small things—canceled plans, excuses about being busy with work, avoiding your messages for a little longer than usual. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he also couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. Every time he saw you, he felt like he was standing on the edge of something he wasn’t ready for, and he knew you weren’t either.

Yeji noticed first.

“You’ve been acting weird,” she said one evening as they grabbed coffee together. She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s going on?”

Sunghoon shrugged, avoiding her gaze as he sipped his drink. “Nothing. Just busy.”

Yeji scoffed. “Busy, huh? Is that why you’ve been dodging Y/N’s calls too?”

He flinched at that, his grip tightening on his cup. Of course, Yeji would notice. She was sharp like that—always had been.

“You’re being ridiculous, you know,” she continued, crossing her arms. “She’s your best friend. She just got back after everything with Daniel, and you’re avoiding her? What’s your problem?”

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not avoiding her,” he mumbled, though he knew it wasn’t true.

Yeji raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Really? Because that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

He stayed quiet, unsure of how to explain what was going on in his head. How could he possibly tell Yeji the truth when he hadn’t even come to terms with it himself?

“Look, I get it,” Yeji said after a moment, her voice softening. “She’s been through a lot, and maybe you think giving her space is the right thing to do. But Sunghoon, she needs you. You two have always been there for each other. What’s really going on?”

Sunghoon glanced up at her, his chest tight with the weight of what he was about to say. “It’s just… complicated.”

Yeji’s eyes widened slightly, as if realizing something. “Oh my God. You still like her, don’t you?”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Sunghoon didn’t answer at first, but the look on his face must’ve said enough because Yeji leaned back in her chair, her expression softening.

“You never got over her,” she said quietly.

Sunghoon sighed again, feeling like the dam he’d been holding back was starting to crack. “No,” he admitted, his voice low. “I never did.”

Yeji didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. Finally, she leaned forward, her tone gentle but firm. “You know you’re gonna have to deal with this, right? Avoiding her isn’t going to make it go away.”

“I know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s not that simple. She’s been through so much, Yeji. She doesn’t need me coming in and messing everything up with how I feel.”

“She needs her best friend,” Yeji countered. “You’re not going to mess anything up by being there for her.”

“But it’s more than that,” Sunghoon said, his voice tight. “I don’t just want to be her best friend, Yeji. I want… more. And if I tell her that now, when she’s still dealing with everything from Daniel, what if I make things worse?”

Yeji leaned back, crossing her arms again as she considered his words. “Sunghoon,” she said after a beat, her voice gentle but serious, “you’re not going to ruin anything by being honest with her. But you’re right—she’s not ready for something like that right now. So maybe you don’t need to tell her everything just yet. But avoiding her? That’s not the answer either.”

Sunghoon frowned, knowing she was right but still feeling conflicted. “I just… I don’t want to hurt her,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Yeji said softly. “But trust me, you’re hurting her more by pulling away.”

Sunghoon looked down at his hands, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. He didn’t want to hurt you, not after everything you’d already been through. But how could he face you when he could barely manage to keep his feelings under control?

“I just need some time,” he said, almost to himself. “To figure this out.”

Yeji sighed but nodded, though her expression remained concerned. “Just don’t take too long. She’s going to notice something’s off.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, knowing deep down that Yeji was right. But for now, he wasn’t sure what else to do. All he knew was that the feelings he had buried for so long were clawing their way back to the surface, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t ignore them forever. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few days felt different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something was off with Sunghoon. He was distant—more than usual. Whenever you tried to hang out like old times, he found an excuse. Too busy with work, too tired from errands, too anything but here.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Maybe he really was busy. Maybe it was just a phase. After all, coming back had changed a lot, for everyone. But the more it happened, the more unsettled you became. You weren’t used to Sunghoon being like this, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d done something wrong.

The morning after your last attempt to make plans, you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, picking at breakfast while your mind raced. Your mom was bustling around, wiping the counters and humming softly to herself.

“You look distracted, honey,” she said, glancing over at you. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Your mom raised an eyebrow, giving you that knowing look she always did when she didn’t quite believe you. “Does this have anything to do with why Sunghoon’s been acting so strange?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Come on, Y/N,” she said, turning to face you with a small smile. “I’ve known that boy his whole life. He’s always been so close to you, but lately, he’s been keeping his distance. Something’s bothering him, and I think it might have to do with you.”

Your heart sank at her words, and suddenly, all the little things you’d been trying to ignore came rushing to the surface. You hadn’t imagined it. Sunghoon was pulling away.

“I don’t know, Mom,” you mumbled, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “He’s been busy, I guess.”

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “but busy doesn’t explain why he avoids you whenever you come over. I don’t think this is about work.”

You stared down at your plate, your chest tightening. The thought of losing Sunghoon’s presence after everything that had happened made your stomach twist. He’d always been your rock—the one person who understood you better than anyone. If he was pulling away, what did that mean?

“I’ll talk to him,” you said softly, more to yourself than to your mom.

“Good,” your mom said with a warm smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing a good conversation can’t fix.”

But as you made your way upstairs to get ready, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Sunghoon wasn’t the type to pull away without a reason, and you had a sinking suspicion that whatever was going on, it wasn’t something he’d be willing to talk about easily.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting outside on the porch, staring off into the distance as you tried to make sense of it all. The crisp autumn air brushed against your skin, the quiet neighborhood almost too peaceful for the storm of emotions swirling inside you. The longer you thought about it, the more frustrated you became.

Sunghoon wasn’t just distant—he was avoiding you. And that hurt more than you were willing to admit. You’d been through so much already, and now it felt like you were losing the one person who’d always been there for you.

Determined not to let this go on any longer, you decided to confront him. You grabbed your phone, quickly typing out a message.

Hey, are you free to talk?

You stared at the screen, waiting for a reply, your heart pounding in your chest. Minutes passed, and just when you thought he might not respond, your phone buzzed.

Busy today. Maybe another time?

Your frustration flared. You knew he wasn’t that busy. This was just another excuse.

Without thinking, you typed back.

Sunghoon, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days. Did I do something wrong?

You hit send, your fingers trembling slightly. The silence that followed felt suffocating, each passing second adding to the weight in your chest.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his reply came.

No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… dealing with some stuff. I’ll explain later.

You frowned at the vague response, feeling even more confused. What kind of “stuff” was he dealing with that he couldn’t even talk to you about it? You started typing another message but stopped, realizing that pushing him wouldn’t help. If he wasn’t ready to talk, there wasn’t much you could do.

But that didn’t make the sting of his distance any less painful.

You put your phone down, staring out at the quiet street once more. Sunghoon was hiding something—something big. And no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was connected to you.

For the rest of the day, your mind wouldn’t let it go. What could possibly make him pull away like this? You had no idea what was going on with him, but one thing was clear: you needed to get to the bottom of it. Because the longer this went on, the more it felt like you were losing him. And you couldn’t bear the thought of that, not now—not after everything you’d been through.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few days were a blur of half-hearted attempts to distract yourself, but Sunghoon’s distance lingered at the back of your mind. Each time you saw him, whether by chance or at family gatherings, it felt like there was this invisible wall between you two, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

He wasn’t avoiding you entirely, but something was definitely off. The easy-going conversations you used to have were now strained. He barely looked at you, his responses shorter, and you couldn’t help but notice how he always found some reason to leave early.

It was Saturday afternoon when Yeji invited you out for coffee. She’d noticed the tension too, but unlike you, she wasn’t willing to let it slide.

“So, you and Sunghoon,” she said as soon as you sat down, not even bothering with small talk. “What’s going on?”

You blinked, surprised by her directness. “What do you mean?”

Yeji gave you a look, crossing her arms. “You know exactly what I mean, Y/N. He’s been acting weird since you got back, and don’t even try to tell me you haven’t noticed.”

You sighed, staring down at your drink. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he just says he’s dealing with stuff. He won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Yeji tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in thought. “You think it’s about Daniel?” she asks you, trying to allude to something more.

The mention of his name made your chest tighten. “I don’t know. Maybe? He was weird even before he knew about Daniel.”

“Hmm.” Yeji leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “That boy’s always been complicated, but I’ve never seen him this off with you. It’s like he’s avoiding something—something big.”

You frowned, feeling even more lost. “But what? What could it be? I didn’t do anything.”

Yeji tapped her fingers on the table, her gaze thoughtful. “Maybe it’s not about something you did. Maybe it’s something he’s dealing with.”

You shook your head. “He won’t talk to me about it. He just keeps saying he’s busy, but it’s more than that. I can feel it.”

“Of course it’s more than that,” Yeji said, her voice firm. “Sunghoon’s always been a terrible liar. He’s hiding something, and my guess? It has something to do with how he feels about you.”

You blinked, staring at her in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Yeji sighed, giving you a soft smile. “Come on, Y/N. You really think he’s just your childhood best friend? That boy has been in love with you since high school.”

Your stomach dropped at her words. “No, he hasn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “We’re just friends. He’s never—”

“He’s never told you,” Yeji finished for you, her tone gentle but serious. “But trust me, it’s been there. He’s always liked you, but he never acted on it because he didn’t want to ruin what you two had. And now, with everything you’ve been through, he’s probably even more scared of saying something.”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. The idea of Sunghoon having feelings for you—real feelings—had never crossed your mind. Sure, you’d always been close, but he’d never given you any reason to think it was more than that. Right?

Yeji sighed, reaching across the table to pat your hand. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But you need to talk to him. He’s avoiding you because he doesn’t know how to handle what he’s feeling. And im truly so sick of him moping around like a puppy.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. Was it true? Had Sunghoon really been hiding his feelings all this time? And if he had, what did that mean for you? You couldn’t even begin to process the possibility, not after everything that had happened with Daniel. You weren’t ready for this—couldn’t be.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t even know if I’m ready to talk about it.”

Yeji gave you a sympathetic smile. “I get it. But Sunghoon is your best friend, and if you don’t at least clear the air, this is just going to keep getting worse. Whatever happens, you both deserve to be honest with each other.”

You nodded slowly, knowing deep down that she was right. Avoiding the situation wasn’t helping anyone. If Sunghoon was really struggling with his feelings, the least you could do was try to talk to him about it. But even as you told yourself that, a knot of anxiety settled in your chest.

Because if Sunghoon really had feelings for you, this was going to change everything. And after everything you’d already been through, you weren’t sure if you were ready for more change.

But one thing was clear: something had to give. You couldn’t keep pretending like everything was normal when it so clearly wasn’t.

“I’ll talk to him,” you finally said, your voice quiet but determined.

Yeji smiled, squeezing your hand. “Good. You’ll figure it out.”

But as you sat there, sipping your coffee and trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

That night, you found yourself staring at your phone, Sunghoon’s contact pulled up, your thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of Yeji’s words hung heavy in your mind—he’s always liked you—and the longer you thought about it, the more restless you became.

What if it was true? What if Sunghoon had been hiding his feelings all this time? The idea seemed impossible, but then again, you’d never imagined him pulling away like this either.

With a frustrated sigh, you locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed, running your hands through your hair. You couldn’t just call him out of the blue. It had to be face-to-face. You had to know for sure, but the thought of confronting him sent a surge of anxiety through your chest. What would you even say?

Unable to stand the suffocating silence of your room, you grabbed your jacket and slipped out of the house, your feet carrying you in a familiar direction. The night air was cool against your skin as you headed toward the park—the same park where you, Sunghoon, and Yeji had spent countless afternoons as kids.

It was quiet when you arrived, the swing set creaking gently in the breeze. You hesitated for a moment before sitting down on one of the swings, the chains groaning under your weight as you gently kicked at the dirt beneath your feet. Memories of your childhood came flooding back—the three of you racing to the swings, fighting over who could go higher, laughing until your sides hurt.

And then, Sunghoon’s face flashed in your mind—his shy smile, his teasing words, the way he’d always looked out for you, even when you didn’t realize it. Could Yeji really be right? Had he been feeling this way for years?

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until someone sat down on the swing next to you. You looked up, startled, only to see Sunghoon, his expression unreadable as he stared ahead.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy and awkward. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or more anxious that he’d found you here.

“I didn’t think you’d be out this late,” Sunghoon finally said, his voice quiet.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you replied, your fingers curling around the swing’s chain. “Needed some air.”

He nodded, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Me too.”

You wanted to ask him—needed to—but the words felt stuck in your throat. Instead, you sat there, side by side in silence, the tension between you growing thicker with each passing second.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, his hands gripping the chains of his swing tightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost strained. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the cryptic response. “Is it me?” you asked, turning to face him fully. “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes snapped to yours, wide and alarmed. “No, Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” you pressed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’ve been acting so strange ever since I came back. I don’t get it.”

Sunghoon sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground as he raked a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, your voice soft but pleading. “Please, Sunghoon. I don’t want to lose you.”

His expression tightened at your words, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. You could see the internal battle playing out behind his eyes, the conflict he’d been hiding so well suddenly visible. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and your heart clenched in your chest. “You’re not hurting me. You’re my best friend, Sunghoon. Whatever it is, we can get through it.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the problem. I don’t know if we can.”

You frowned, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon’s eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw the weight of everything he’d been holding back. His next words came out in a rush, as if he’d been holding them in for far too long.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. More than just a friend. Since high school, maybe even before then. But I never told you because… because I didn’t want to mess things up. And then you left, and I thought I’d gotten over it. But now that you’re back…” He trailed off, his voice catching in his throat. “It’s like all those feelings just came rushing back, and I don’t know what to do with them. I can’t act on them, not after everything you’ve been through with Daniel. It’s not fair to you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, Sunghoon’s confession hanging in the air between you like a fragile thread. You’d always thought of him as your best friend, the one constant in your life that had never changed. But now… now everything was different.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, standing up from the swing as if he couldn’t bear to stay any longer. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll—”

“No,” you said, cutting him off, standing up too. “Don’t run away. Not again.”

He looked at you, his expression torn, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the fear of rejection, the fear of losing you completely. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

“Sunghoon, I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I never knew you felt that way.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” he said quietly. “But now… now I can’t hide it anymore.”

The silence between you was deafening, the weight of his confession settling heavily on your shoulders. You didn’t know how to respond, not after everything you’d been through. But one thing was certain: nothing between you and Sunghoon would ever be the same again.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The days that followed felt surreal. Sunghoon’s confession lingered in your mind like a persistent echo, one that you couldn’t quite shake off. Every time you replayed his words, your chest tightened, and your thoughts spiraled into confusion. You didn’t know how to feel—about him, about your past, or even about yourself. You spent so many years thinking of Sunghoon as your constant, your rock, your best friend, and now all of that felt uncertain.

Sunghoon avoided you even more than before, making sure he was never in the same place as you for too long. At first, you gave him space, understanding that things were complicated. But the distance started to gnaw at you. He’d always been the one person you could rely on, and now, when you needed him most, he was pulling away.

It was Yeji who finally brought it up, sitting across from you at the café as she studied your downcast expression.

“You look like you’ve been hit by a truck,” she said bluntly, sipping her iced coffee.

You sighed, pushing your own drink around the table without taking a sip. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” she said flatly. “And let me guess, it has something to do with Sunghoon?”

You didn’t answer right away, but the slight flicker in your eyes was enough for Yeji to know she was right. She groaned, leaning forward.

“I swear, if you two don’t figure this out, I’m going to lock you in a room until you do.”

You managed a weak smile at her joke, but it faded quickly. “It’s complicated, Yeji.”

“Everything is complicated with you two. But the longer you let this sit, the worse it’s going to get.”

“I don’t even know what to say to him,” you admitted, sinking into your seat. “He told me how he feels, but… I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

Yeji studied you carefully, her expression softening. “You’ve been through a lot with Daniel. No one expects you to be ready for something like this. But Sunghoon is… well, he’s not Daniel. You know he’d never hurt you.”

Your throat tightened at her words. “That’s what makes it worse. I don’t want to hurt him either.”

“You won’t,” Yeji said confidently. “Not if you’re honest with him. He knows what you’ve been through, and he’ll understand. But avoiding each other like this isn’t helping anyone.”

You rubbed your temples, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I don’t know, Yeji. It’s just… too much.”

She reached across the table, placing her hand on top of yours. “Take it one step at a time. Sunghoon’s not going anywhere. He just needs to know where you stand.”

You nodded, knowing deep down that she was right. The tension between you and Sunghoon had become unbearable, and if you didn’t talk to him soon, it would only get worse.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in front of Sunghoon’s house, your heart racing. You hadn’t planned to come here, but your feet had carried you here almost on instinct. His confession had thrown everything into chaos, and you needed to clear the air, for both your sakes.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the door. The wait felt excruciatingly long, but finally, the door opened to reveal Sunghoon, his expression shifting from surprise to something more guarded.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice hesitant. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” you replied, trying to steady your voice. “Can we?”

He looked uncertain for a moment, but eventually, he stepped aside, letting you in. You followed him to the living room, the air between you heavy with unspoken words.

Sunghoon stood by the window, his hands stuffed into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “What is it?”

You took a seat on the couch, feeling your pulse quicken. “About what you told me the other night…”

He tensed, his shoulders stiffening. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice firmer than you intended. “You don’t get it. You can’t just drop something like that on me and then disappear, Sunghoon. We’ve been friends for years. I deserve to know what’s going on with you.”

Sunghoon sighed, finally turning to face you. “I was trying to give you space. I didn’t want to make things harder for you after everything with Daniel.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, your voice softening. “But shutting me out isn’t helping either of us.”

There was a long pause as Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his own emotions. “I didn’t know what else to do, Y/N. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and now that it’s out, I don’t know how to act around you.”

“You don’t have to act any differently,” you said quietly. “But you also can’t avoid me forever.”

Sunghoon stared at you, a conflicted look in his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse. I know you’re not ready for… anything like this, and I’m not going to push you. But it’s hard, Y/N. It’s hard being around you and pretending like everything is the same when I’ve been feeling this way for so long.”

You looked down, your heart heavy with guilt. “I don’t want to lose you, Sunghoon. You’re one of the most important people in my life, and I can’t imagine things without you. But I’m not ready for more, not after everything that happened.”

“I know,” Sunghoon said softly, his expression pained. “And I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for you, Y/N. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

The vulnerability in his voice hit you hard, and for the first time, you saw just how deep his feelings ran. He wasn’t asking for anything from you—he was just being honest, and it was tearing him apart. You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of it all crashing down on you.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I wish things were different.”

He shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I just… I just needed you to know.”

The silence stretched between you, both of you caught in the painful reality of the situation. Neither of you knew what the future held, but for now, all you could do was take it one step at a time.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The days passed in an uneasy quiet, the tension between you and Sunghoon lingering like an unspoken secret. He no longer avoided you as much, but the once easy-going banter you shared felt stilted, weighed down by everything unsaid. You couldn’t stop thinking about his confession. It felt like a constant reminder of how complicated everything had become. No matter how much you tried to focus on anything else, Sunghoon’s words echoed in your mind, making it impossible to pretend like things were back to normal.

One evening, as you sat in your room, you heard a knock on the door. Your mom poked her head in, smiling warmly.

“Dinner’s ready, sweetheart,” she said, her eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”

You plastered on a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just lost in thought.”

She gave you a knowing look. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Is everything okay between you and Sunghoon?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Why do you ask?”

“You two have always been inseparable, but things seem… different now. You can talk to me, you know.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how much to say. You hadn’t told your parents anything about Sunghoon’s confession, and you weren’t sure you could without making things more complicated. “It’s nothing, Mom. We’re fine. Just adjusting, I guess.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “Alright, but you know we’re here for you. If you need to talk about anything—about Sunghoon or anything else—you can always come to us.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle over you. She meant well, but the last thing you wanted was to burden your parents with the tangled mess of your emotions.

After dinner, you found yourself wandering outside, needing fresh air to clear your head. Without thinking, you walked down the familiar path to the park, your steps slow and deliberate. The quiet of the evening felt comforting, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling inside you. You found your way back to the swings, sitting down as you often did when you needed to think.

As you rocked gently back and forth, your mind drifted back to high school. Back to the carefree days when things between you, Sunghoon, and Yeji had been simple. The memories were vivid—late nights studying together, hanging out at the park after school, and how Sunghoon had always been there, a steady presence by your side. Back then, you’d never questioned his loyalty, never thought twice about the way he always seemed to put you first. But now, looking back, you wondered how you hadn’t noticed the way he looked at you, the quiet way his feelings had been growing all along.

You remembered one particular moment, just before you left for the U.S. Sunghoon had walked you home after a late study session, the two of you chatting about nothing in particular. It had been a chilly night, and he’d offered you his jacket without hesitation. You’d laughed, teased him for being too polite, but his expression had been serious, almost sad. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to the fact that you’d be leaving soon. But now, in hindsight, you realized it had been more than that. Sunghoon had been struggling with his feelings, even back then, and you’d been completely oblivious.

A pang of guilt hit you as you thought about how long he must’ve held everything inside, how hard it must’ve been for him to see you leave, knowing you didn’t feel the same way. And now, after everything that had happened with Daniel, Sunghoon was still there, waiting for you in the background, even though you couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Why does everything have to be so complicated?” you muttered to yourself, staring up at the darkening sky.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in more memories, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Sunghoon.

“You’re here again,” he said, his voice quiet but familiar as he sat on the swing next to you.

“I needed to think,” you replied softly, your eyes still focused on the ground. “This place… it helps.”

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze drifting up toward the sky. “Yeah. It’s always been like that, hasn’t it?”

A comfortable silence fell between you, though it was laced with the tension of everything unsaid. For a moment, it felt like old times—just the two of you, sitting together in quiet understanding. But you knew things were different now, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice tentative. “Sunghoon… I know things have been weird lately. And I hate it.”

He didn’t respond right away, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. “I know.”

“I just—” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want that either, Y/N. But I don’t know how to make it less weird. I can’t just forget what I said.”

“I’m not asking you to,” you said quickly. “But maybe we can figure this out. I need you, Sunghoon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I need you too. But that’s the problem.”

Your heart clenched at his words. You could see the struggle in his eyes—the fight between his feelings for you and his desire to protect you from more pain. It wasn’t fair to him, and you knew it. But you didn’t know how to fix it, how to make things go back to the way they were.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the guilt heavy in your chest.

Sunghoon shook his head, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. None of this is.”

You sat there in silence, the distance between you feeling both vast and fragile. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to figure out. But for now, all you could do was sit side by side, both of you trying to navigate the complicated mess of feelings that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Weeks passed, and the uneasy tension that once lingered between you and Sunghoon gradually began to fade. Little by little, things started to feel like they were falling back into place, though not quite the same as before. The awkward silences became comfortable again, and the shared moments between you started to carry a different weight.

You found yourself paying closer attention to him in ways you never had before. The small gestures—how he’d bring you coffee without asking, or how he’d go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable—began to take on a deeper meaning. Sunghoon wasn’t just being your best friend; he was being your support, your constant, the one person who had always been there for you, even when you didn’t realize how much you needed him.

It was in those moments that your feelings began to shift. At first, you tried to brush them off, telling yourself it was just gratitude, that you were still recovering from everything with Daniel. But the more time you spent with Sunghoon, the harder it became to ignore the warmth that bloomed in your chest every time he smiled at you, or the way your heart raced whenever your hands accidentally brushed.

One evening, the two of you sat in your backyard, a quiet evening settling in around you. Sunghoon had insisted on helping your father with a project earlier, and afterward, he stayed for dinner, as he often did. Now, the two of you were sitting on the porch, the cool breeze gently rustling the leaves above you.

Sunghoon leaned back, his eyes drifting to the sky. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” he said softly, glancing at you. “Everything okay?”

You smiled at the concern in his voice, feeling that familiar warmth spread through you again. “Yeah, I’m just… thinking.”

He turned slightly to face you, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your feelings into words. You weren’t ready to say everything out loud yet, but you couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of gratitude and admiration you felt for him. “Just about how things have changed… and how much you’ve been there for me.”

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though you could see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “That’s what friends do, right?”

You nodded, but the word “friends” felt wrong now. There was something more between you, something that had been growing quietly in the background, and it was starting to become impossible to deny. You weren’t sure when it had happened, or maybe it had always been there, buried beneath the surface. But what you did know was that Sunghoon wasn’t just your friend anymore.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

More time passed and you found yourself seeking him out more, spending more time with him than anyone else. You began to crave his company, his quiet strength, and the way he seemed to understand you without needing to ask. And it wasn’t just the grand gestures that made your heart flutter—it was the small things. The way he always checked if you were okay, how he listened when you talked, really listened, and how he’d make sure you weren’t alone whenever you seemed down.

It was these little acts of kindness, the quiet care he showed you, that made your feelings for him grow into something undeniable.

One evening, the two of you found yourselves at the park again, sitting on the swings like you used to as kids. The sky was a deep shade of pink and orange, the sun setting in the distance. Sunghoon was talking about something—work, maybe—but you weren’t really listening. Instead, you were focused on him, on the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way his voice softened when he talked to you.

You realized, suddenly and overwhelmingly, that you cared for him in a way you hadn’t cared for anyone else. It wasn’t just that Sunghoon had been there for you, but the way he had always, quietly and without expectation, supported you, no matter what. He didn’t ask for anything in return, didn’t push you for answers or confessions. He just… cared.

And that’s when you knew. You had feelings for Sunghoon. They had been there all along, waiting for you to realize it.

Sunghoon must have noticed the look on your face because he stopped mid-sentence, turning to you with a curious expression. “What is it?”

You blinked, startled out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You’re staring at me,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You felt your cheeks heat up, quickly looking away. “I wasn’t.”

He laughed softly, but didn’t push further. Instead, he leaned back on the swing, the smile fading as a comfortable silence settled between you. You wanted to say something, to tell him what was on your mind, but the words wouldn’t come. Not yet.

For now, you were content just being here with him, the weight of your growing feelings a secret you weren’t quite ready to share. But you knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t be long before those feelings couldn’t be hidden any longer.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It was a cozy Friday evening, and the house felt unusually quiet. Your parents and Sunghoon’s parents had decided to take a weekend trip together, leaving the two of you alone for the night. You had taken advantage of the opportunity to host a movie night, and the living room was filled with the inviting smell of popcorn and the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the room.

You settled onto the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs, while Sunghoon reclined next to you, the space between you filled with a warm tension. The movie played in the background, but you found it hard to focus on the screen. Instead, your gaze kept drifting to him—the way the light danced in his hair, the casual way he laughed at the jokes, and the ease of his presence next to you.

As the minutes turned into hours, you felt the atmosphere shift. Each time you glanced at him, your heart raced a little more. You couldn’t ignore the way your feelings for him had transformed over the last few weeks, the moments you had shared sparking something deeper than friendship.

Finally, during a quieter moment in the movie, you turned to him, heart pounding. “Sunghoon,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He turned his head, eyebrows raised in curiosity, his expression inviting you to continue.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should voice what had been on your mind for so long. But the warmth of his gaze, the way he was looking at you, made the decision feel inevitable. “I need to tell you something,” you began, feeling your heart race.

He tilted his head slightly, encouraging you. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us… and how I feel about you.” Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, but you pressed on. “When I came back to Korea, everything felt so chaotic. But you… you were there for me in a way I didn’t expect. And the more time we spend together, the more I realize that I care about you, Sunghoon. A lot.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could respond, you continued, your heart pounding in your chest. “I know I’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to rush anything. But I can’t pretend anymore. I have feelings for you—feelings that go beyond friendship. I want to explore this… whatever this is between us.”

A moment of silence stretched between you, filled with the weight of your confession. You could see the shock in his expression slowly melting into something softer, something hopeful.

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere. “I care about you too, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I didn’t know if you’d feel the same after everything that’s happened.”

Your heart soared at his words, relief flooding through you. “Really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, a small smile spreading across his lips. “Really.”

In that moment, everything else faded away. You felt a magnetic pull between you, drawing you closer together. Without thinking, you leaned in, your heart racing as you closed the space between you.

Sunghoon met you halfway, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle hesitance that quickly melted into a deeper kiss. It was electric—filled with all the unspoken emotions you had both held back for so long. The world outside your living room ceased to exist, leaving only the warmth of his body and the rhythm of your hearts.

You melted into him, feeling the softness of the couch beneath you as he deepened the kiss, hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating between you, igniting something passionate and alive that you hadn’t anticipated.

You  moaned softly into Sunghoon's mouth, the sound fueling his desire even further. Breaking the kiss for air, you stared into each other's eyes, both breathless and flushed. "Your room," Sunghoon whispered hoarsely. "Let's go to your room."

Hand in hand, you made your way to your childhood bedroom, a space that held countless memories of your friendship. The room was a sanctuary, adorned with pictures and trinkets from your shared adventures. Sunghoon closed the door behind you, sealing your private world from the outside.

You leaned against the door, heart racing as he approached her. He gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your soft cheeks. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.Your lips met again, this time with a hunger that burned through your restraint. Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves and contours of your hips and waist. His fingers played with the hem of your tshirt, as if he was silently asking permission to take it off of you. You nod, his hands wasting no time in peeking the fabric to reveal the lacy black bra you wore beneath. 

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingertips traced the delicate lace, sending shivers down her spine.

With deft fingers, Sunghoon unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. You gasp at the cold air that suddenly hits you. He gazed at them with reverence, his eyes dark with desire. Leaning down, he took one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently while his thumb teased the other.  You arch your back at the sensation, moaning softly as waves of pleasure rippled through you.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispered against you skin. "I want to make you feel so good."

Feeling a sudden burst of eagerness, your hands found their way to Sunghoon's belt, unbuckling it with trembling fingers. You undid his jeans and slid your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around his hardening cock through his boxers. Sunghoon gasped, his breath hot against your neck, placing a small, wet kiss there as you began to stroke him. “S-shit baby.”

You slip your hand out, guiding Sunghoon towards your bed, you pushed him gently onto the mattress, positions now reversed. You straddled his waist, grinding your hips against his, feeling his erection press against your clothed cunt. His hands roamed over your thighs, inching upwards, exploring the soft skin beneath her shorts that had been driving him insane since the moment he stepped foot inside your house. 

With a gentle tug, you lifted your hips as he removed your shorts as well as the cute black panties that matched your bra, revealing your bare pussy, glistening with desire. Sunghoon's eyes darkened further as he took in the sight, his breath coming in short gasps. "You're so wet, Y/N. want to taste you so bad."

“later, you say as you slide down his body, positioning yourself between his legs. You leaned forward, your long hair cascading over your shoulders, as you began to kiss and lick the length of his shaft. Sunghoon groaned, his hands gripping the bedsheets as you took him deep into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head of his cock. “Feels so good baby”

Sunghoon couldn't hold back any longer. He sat up, positioning you on the bed, and parted your thighs with gentle kisses. His tongue traced the outer folds of your pussy, teasing your sensitive skin. You squirmed with pleasure,  hips bucking against his face as he found your clit and began to suckle it with relentless passion.

"Oh, Sunghoon!" you cried out,  voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck don't stop, please!"

Sunghoon continued his relentless assault on your clit, sending you spiraling towards an intense orgasm “tastes so fucking good, all wet just for me.” Your body trembled,  crying out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you. Sunghoon didn't let up, continuing to lick and suck until you were a quivering mess, your body drenched in sweat and satisfaction.

After a few moments to recover, you reached for Sunghoon, pulling him up to kiss him in a more hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, and it drove you wild with desire all over again. "I want you inside me," you whispered between kisses. "Now."

Sunghoon needed no further encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. With one smooth thrust, he filled you completely, eliciting a gasp from your parted lips. you moved in perfect harmony, your bodies slick with sweat as ge fucked you with raw, unbridled passion.

"Harder, baby" you pleaded, nails digging into his shoulders. "fuck me harder.” Sunghoon obliged, pounding into you with abandon, his hips slamming against yours. 

The headboard banged against the wall, marking the rhythm of your frantic coupling. your cries filled the room as you rode the waves of pleasure,  orgasm building to an intense crescendo.

“Fuck baby your pussys clenching so hard around my cock, im so fucking close.” You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppier, your own orgasm approaching just a quick. “gonna c-cum hoonie.” He couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, he came deep inside you, his hot cum painting your walls white. 

He collapsed onto the bed, bodies entwined, both breathing heavily as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through each of you. “If I would’ve known you’d fuck me that good maybe I would’ve given you a chance much earlier.” You tell him out of breath, eliciting a chuckle from him. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The soft morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in your room. You stirred awake, feeling warmth enveloping you. Sunghoon was nestled beside you, his arm draped protectively around your waist, holding you close. The memory of the night before flooded your mind—the kiss, the confessions, and the spark of something beautiful igniting between you.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of contentment that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. But as you settled deeper into his embrace, a sudden noise from downstairs jolted you from your blissful reverie.

“Y/N, I think your parents are back,” Sunghoon murmured sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he became more alert.

Your heart raced as the reality of the situation hit you. “Oh fuck, They’re not supposed to be back yet” you whispered, panic rising in your chest.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, and he immediately sat up, glancing around the room. “We need to hurry”

You both scrambled to untangle yourselves from the sheets, adrenaline coursing through you. As you hopped out of bed, you glanced at each other, both of you laughing nervously at the chaotic situation. There was an unspoken agreement—you needed to act casual, like nothing unusual had happened.

“Okay, you get dressed first,” you said, tossing him a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been strewn on the floor. “I’ll throw on something too.”

You quickly changed into a comfy hoodie and leggings, your heart still racing as you heard your parents’ voices growing louder downstairs. The last thing you wanted was for them to walk in on you two after the night you just shared.

“Are you ready?” Sunghoon asked, his hair slightly tousled as he pulled on the T-shirt. He looked adorable, and it took everything in you not to linger on how cute he was at that moment.

“Almost!” you replied, giving your reflection a quick check in the mirror before moving to the door. “Let’s go!”

You both rushed down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible, your hearts pounding in your chests. As you reached the bottom step, you could hear your parents chatting in the kitchen, their voices bright and cheerful.

“Y/N, are you home?” your mom called out just as you and Sunghoon entered the living room, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, Mom! Just hanging out!” you replied, forcing a casual tone, hoping it didn’t sound too forced.

You glanced over at Sunghoon, who was giving you a small, reassuring smile, but you could see the nervousness in his eyes. You both moved into the kitchen, where your parents were unpacking bags, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions that had just taken place in your room.

“Hey, Sunghoon! you’re here,” your dad said, giving him a friendly nod. “Did you keep Y/N entertained while we were gone?”

“Of course!” Sunghoon replied, a little too quickly, his eyes darting to you for a brief moment. “We had a fun movie night.”

You nodded enthusiastically, trying to match his energy. “Yeah, just a normal hangout. Nothing out of the ordinary,” you added, unable to hide the hint of a nervous laugh.

Your mom chuckled, giving you both a knowing look. “You two have always been inseparable. I’m glad you’re spending time together.”

You felt your cheeks flush, and you shot Sunghoon a sidelong glance. He was trying hard not to smile, and it was contagious.

“Did you enjoy the trip?” you asked, hoping to shift the conversation away from the night before.

Your parents launched into stories about their travels, and as you listened, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Sunghoon. He caught your eye, and you both exchanged a small smile that felt electric, reminding you of the connection you had just started to explore.

As breakfast was prepared, the atmosphere felt relaxed and easy, but your heart raced at the thought of your parents unknowingly interrupting something that had felt so significant. You couldn’t help but feel giddy about the night you had shared, and the prospect of what lay ahead for you and Sunghoon, even as the morning unfolded like any other day.

After breakfast, your parents retreated to the living room to relax, leaving you and Sunghoon to clean up the kitchen. The atmosphere felt light, almost like the calm before a storm as you both exchanged playful banter, your earlier connection still fresh in your minds.

Later that afternoon, you heard a familiar voice ring out from the front door. “Y/N! I’m here!” Yeji called as she burst into the house, her energy immediately filling the space.

You couldn’t help but smile, excitement bubbling up at the sight of your childhood best friend. “Yeji! You’re back!” you exclaimed, rushing to greet her with a hug.

As you pulled away, she looked at you intently, her gaze sweeping over you from head to toe. “You’re glowing,  What’s going on with you?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you tried to play it cool. “What are you talking about?” you said, attempting to sound nonchalant, but you felt a giddy warmth spread through you.

“Oh, come on” Yeji pressed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You look so happy. Are you and sunghoon fianlly together?”

You felt your heart race at the thought. “It’s… complicated,” you said, a shy smile creeping onto your face as you remembered the kiss, the way he made you feel, and the warmth that had lingered long after. “We’re just figuring things out.”

“Just figuring things out?” Yeji exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. “Y/N, you’re practically radiating happiness, That sounds like a classic ‘we’re together’ situation to me now spill bitch.”

You laughed, unable to suppress the joy bubbling inside you. “I promise, it’s nothing like that! We’re just friends hanging out—well, more than friends, but still… you know.” You were stumbling over your words, and you could feel the warmth of your blush creeping down your neck.

Yeji’s eyes widened, her expression a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Oh my god, did you fuck?” she pressed, bouncing slightly on her heels, clearly thrilled at the prospect.

You don’t say anything, except you give her a knowing look that told her everything she needs to know. 

Yeji’s smile grew wider, her excitement infectious. “Fucking finally. I thought you idiots would never figure it out” She grabbed your shoulders, her eyes gleaming. “You have to tell me everything.”

Just then, Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, glancing between the two of you, a bemused smile on his face. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression.

Yeji turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, just catching up on the latest drama. Y/N and I were just talking about how she’s glowing and—”

You quickly interjected, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We were just talking about… uh, my skincare routine!”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Your skincare routine, huh? Sounds fascinating.”

“Shut up,” you shot back playfully, laughter spilling out. But deep down, you felt a thrill at the thought of your feelings for him becoming more public, shared between friends.

Yeji wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, a teasing smile on her face.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. As Sunghoon joined the conversation, you felt a warmth in your heart, realizing how much you had missed this—how much you had missed him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You and Sunghoon settled into a rhythm of secrecy and excitement. Every stolen moment felt like a thrilling adventure, each shared smile charged with an energy that left you both breathless. You spent evenings hanging out at parks, grabbing snacks at your favorite convenience store, and reliving old memories. But as your bond deepened, so did the intensity of your feelings.

You both agreed to keep things under wraps for a little while longer, wanting to navigate this new chapter without the pressure of parental expectations looming over you. But sneaking around only added to the thrill, and soon, it became second nature.

One Friday evening, you decided to go on a real date. After all, you had managed to keep things low-key, but you were ready to enjoy being together without the pressure of hiding. You picked a charming little café downtown, a spot you both loved, and as the sun began to set, the place glowed with a warm, inviting ambiance.

You shared a dessert and exchanged playful banter, the world outside fading away. Sunghoon’s laughter felt like music, and each lingering glance seemed to whisper promises of something beautiful. The night was perfect—until it was time to go home.

As you walked down the quiet street, the cool night air wrapping around you, you felt a surge of affection. You turned to Sunghoon, smiling softly, and without thinking, you pulled him into a warm embrace. It felt so right, being close to him, your heart racing at the proximity.

But just as you pulled away, a familiar voice broke the silence. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Startled, you turned to see your parents standing just a few feet away, a mix of surprise and amusement on their faces. Sunghoon’s eyes widened, and you felt your heart drop. “Uh… hey!” you stammered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

Your mom stepped forward, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “We always knew you two would end up together,” she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow playfully.

Sunghoon chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, well, this is a bit unexpected.”

Your dad grinned, stepping beside your mom. “You think we wouldn’t notice the way you two look at each other? You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you?”

You exchanged glances with Sunghoon, a mix of embarrassment and relief flooding through you. “Okay, maybe a little,” you admitted, unable to hide your smile.

“Just a little?” Yeji suddenly appeared from behind your parents, her arms crossed and an amused look on her face. “I could have told you they were dating from the way they looked at each other!”

Your heart raced, but seeing the warmth in your parents’ eyes eased your nerves. “We just wanted to take our time, you know?” you said, looking up at Sunghoon.

Your mom laughed softly. “You kids and your secrets. We were starting to wonder when you would finally tell us!”

Sunghoon relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. “Sorry for keeping it from you, but we wanted to figure things out first.”

Your dad patted Sunghoon on the back. “You’re a good kid. We’re just happy to see you both happy. Just remember to keep it respectful, alright?”

You nodded vigorously, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. As you stood there, surrounded by family and friends, you realized how wonderful it felt to share your happiness openly.

Sunghoon looked at you, his expression softening. “Well, I guess the secret’s out,” he said, smiling broadly.

You chuckled, leaning against him, warmth spreading through you. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walked home together, hand in hand, you knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your lives—one filled with love, laughter, and the promise of many more adventures to come.

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[landojpg04]

MDNI slight suggestive and language

Ghost definitely has a motorcycle and a truck. He'll drive the truck when he knows it'll be a long day doing intel and paperwork. But especially on a Friday when the workload is light, he’ll come in on his bike knowing he’ll be able to enjoy the ride.

He started riding the bike more when you gave the comment-

Guys who ride motorcycles are ten times more attractive with their bike

You didn’t say it to him per se but rather to a friend of yours on base, and he overheard. He likes to think that the bike is his good luck charm, as you agreed to a first date when he drove it. But despite you loving the bike as much as you loved him, he never let you on it. Always exclaiming it would be too dangerous.

He's in the garage, music playing lightly from the speaker as he cleans and messes with some of the gears. You watch in awe at the door. Never in a million years did you think you would be here. In Lt’s old t-shirt, sipping tea and watching him indulge in normalcy on a Sunday afternoon. When you transferred to the base, you always heard rumors about the man behind the mask and the name Ghost. But behind that was this man full of love.

“Enjoying the show, darling?” He said, looking up from the bike to see you.

“Just admiring.” You said.

“The bike or the rider?” He said smirking.

You admired and mirrored that smirk. Something you thought you would never see in your lifetime. But after trials of trust, the mask and guards came down, bearing all the luggage, and past to your welcoming arms. 

“Both,” you said, walking over to him. He was seated on a chair and leaned back to welcome you in between his legs. 

He peered up, his eyes glimmering in the sunlight that peaked through the window.

“Let me ride.” You said, peering down.

“You can ride me anytime.” He said, being cheeky.

You groaned at his antics and pouted towards him.

“Do you not trust me on your precious baby, Si?”

He looked between you and the bike. It wasn’t that he didn't trust you. He knows how dangerous riding is. He doesn’t want to let you on just in case something happens. He’s come to terms with something happening to him a long time ago. But you. He just got you and would put you in a bubble if it meant keeping you safe. 

“I trust you. I just don't trust others.” He says, moving a piece of hair from your face. He moves his hand to cup your jaw. He guided you to his lips for a quick peck.

You leave your forehead on him while he moves his hands down to your hips.

He can tell you were annoyed with your answers. You guys bonded over this bike and he truly believes that being able to ride it one day was the only thing keeping you around.

That was far from the truth. You just wanted to straddle something other than Simons's dick.

He stood up and moved you to the side.

He pushed the brake down and moved to the back of the bike.

"We can start with basics. Posture and positions." He said looking at you.

Stunned by his answer and quick change in answers, you didn't move till he said, "Ok, I guess you don't want to." You feet quickly moved to stand by him.

He went through the basics, teaching you how to mount and where to keep your feet. After, it was your turn to demonstrate your understanding. You go to the side and lift a leg to straddle the seat.

Simon from the back saw how you were a natural at this. Your ass is plump on the seat you lean to hold the handles with a slight arch in your back. Simon thought to himself why he hadn't let you do this earlier. He was so caught up in how good you look he didn't even hear you ask him if what you were doing was good.

You looked over to see him in a daze. He quickly grabbed his phone and took a photo of you on his bike, clad in his boxers and old t-shirt; every inch of you screamed that you were his. And he never loved anything more than this moment right now.

He walked to the front of the bike.

"Is this alright Si?" You asked him when you finally are met with his face.

He just smiled and leaned in to kiss you.

"My gorgeous girl on my bike," He said in between kisses.

You giggled and removed your hands from the handles to his neck and shoulder.

"Get off the bike and get inside right now." He said, pulling away. Laughing, you got off and felt a slight smack hit your ass. This was definitely not your last time on his bike.

[cloudcountry]

since you guys liked my idea so much here it is: WAYS THE NRC BOYS WOULD MAKE YOU WORSE

reader's personality is based more off of in-game yuu than anything? this set of hcs is a bunch of hypotheticals basically. this can be read as platonic or romantic idk each guy is written as if they are the closest person to you, friends or otherwise.

IF YOU SEE A TYPO NO YOU DONT

mentally preparing myself for the "i wouldnt do that!!!!!" comments...and post.

Riddle increases your attentiveness to the rules tenfold. No matter how meek you are, he makes your voice strong—and oh boy does it carry. You’re yelling at people for running in the halls, chastising them for not doing their homework, and opening your mouth wider when you speak. For a school full of troublemakers like Night Raven, the entire student body is so disappointed there’s another Riddle.

Trey makes you more passive, less likely to speak up when you see something. He’s always stood back in the shadows, watching over everything without saying a word, and it’s seeped into your personality, too. You’re spineless now. This world is unfamiliar, why should you try to do anything? You’d only stand out. You don’t want to be outstanding. You want to be as normal as possible. So you stand back.

Cater gets you wrapped up in the hype of social media. It started out as a way to indulge his interests but now you’re on Magicam all day, scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. You send things to your friends and say “hey, we should do this” but never make any actual effort to connect with them outside of that. You fall easier into jealousy because you’re surrounded by glamor.

Deuce makes you reckless. He’s so willing to throw himself into things and it spurs you to do the same, no matter how many times your teachers or potential upperclassmen tell you not to. You can’t hear anything but Deuce and his yelling, his enthusiasm and terror for whichever situation you two find yourselves in, knowing that you’d follow him anywhere.

Ace makes you all the more prickly, your sharp jabs and irritating smugness a product of spending too much time with him. You two are two peas in a pod, but to an outsider you two just seem...irritating. You have a talent for getting under people’s skin and have definitely gotten better at lying.

Leona thinks its so cute how you try to defend him at every twist and turn. Like no, he is as dastardly as everyone is saying. Why are you trying to deny it? You’re suddenly seeing reason in the most massive ego-ed people this side of Sage Island and Leona honestly doesn’t know if he should be concerned for you or be amused because of you. (This one in particular was inspired by @loser-jpg LMAO)

Ruggie could have made you prioritize yourself more, but you think he took it a bit too far. See, now you’re snatching cafeteria items and worksheets right under people’s noses, giggling as they demand you give it back. Sometimes they don’t even notice you, but even if they did you’ve learned how to be lighter on your feet.

Jack and you are incredibly uncooperative people (unless you owe someone, of course.) He’s guided you away from asking for help, insisting that the people here will take advantage of you then turning around to say that he doesn’t care, he just doesn't want to get wrapped up in your mess. It’s like you can’t trust anyone but him and your Heartslabyul friends anymore.

Azul has given you one nasty sense of perception, allowing you to key into every little detail and find loopholes in the things people say in a second. He’s turned you into a deadly asset, one he treasures just as much as the student body fears. You read over his contracts and point out what you would do to get out of them, and he adjusts accordingly. What a fine team you two make!

Jade makes it clear that his morals are less than savory, and will often encourage you to partake in things you really shouldn't. You rationalize it as Jade helping you go after the things you want, to finally take and take and take from people when you’ve been so selfless all your life, because it's what you deserve isn’t it?

Floyd will often rope you into his schemes, and it's not wrong before you start doing the same. Once a model student, attending every class, you now skip class and watch with amusement as Floyd threatens another student, hiding your smile behind your hand. They may plead for your assistance, but who are you to stop Floyd? This poor soul clearly owed something.

Kalim instills you with a sense of jealousy and helplessness. He has money to solve all of his problems, his life must be so easy. You’ve lived through so many overblots and received no help from anyone, but Kalim has always been so kind and generous to you. It makes you resent him a little, and anyone else who tries to help, because they all have things that you don’t and that's just not fair.

Jamil twists and bends your mind so much that you can do the very same thing to others. You’ve caught onto his little game and he knows it, eyeing you with anticipation whenever you speak in the same honeyed tone he uses when he wants something. You’ve gotten scarily good at hiding it too, shooting him a smug grin because you know he knows, but nobody else does.

Vil brings out so much confidence in your abilities it’s borderline arrogance. You know you’re capable, so why doesn’t everyone just let you handle this? You can do it, they can’t. So they should just step aside. You’re not doing it to be mean, so why are they getting so annoyed at you? You’re just better.

Rook has some eccentricities, and you’re well aware of them. They put you off at first, but now you’re used to him. It just seems normal now. You’re not sure why everyone makes such a big deal out of his tendencies, that’s just how he is. He’ll stalk you, hunt you down, but he’s having fun! Don’t spoil it for him!

Epel is actually the perfect fit for NRC, you think. He’s a troublemaker, he’s stubborn, and he’s so, so angry. But he’s right! Why should you respect people who claim to be above you? It’s so irritating that they walk around with those annoying smirks on their faces. You two should do something about that, don’t you think?

Idia has a very specific way of talking that can not only be confusing, but can also irritate the hell out of people. Of all things you could pick up from him, you picked up his smug jabs and insults, accompanied by a tooth grin and a laugh. It’s unnerving how much he’s rubbed off on you, a true testament to how close you too are much to the chagrin of the rest of NRC.

Malleus finds so much delight in being your bodyguard, your most trusted companion, that he doesn’t even bat an eye when you use his magic for your own gain. You’ve gotten soft, molding to whatever shape Malleus wants you to be just so he won’t leave. You’re helpless without him, only he has the will and the magic to protect you. So won’t he please stay?

Lilia has a way of dodging the truth, putting a smile on his face even when he’s hurting. It makes you think that, if he can do that, why can’t you? Lilia is smart, he knows how to go about life, so you should follow his lead and bury your problems until they’ll never see the light again.

Sebek has done nothing but berate you for being human since you met him, and even if you’ve gotten closer to him over the course of your stay in Twisted Wonderland, you’re starting to think he’s right. If you had magic, if you weren’t human, you’d be more powerful. It’s a fact. You could do so much more if you weren’t so weak.

Silver has made you complacent. He takes each step carefully, protecting both you and Malleus, so why would you need to protect yourself in any capacity? It’s so nice, having this safety net. If you could, you'd rely on Silver forever, never facing the cruel realities of the world that are blocked by his strong arms.

[felixknow]

Hannie's 🍒 fixation

Han/f!reader, friends who do something sexual...by accident...? nah, Han is a boob guy and wants to put his mouth to good use

ADULTS ONLY, MDNI, I don't want teenagers reading my NSFW posts

Since meeting Han, your friendship has been touchy-feely.

Maybe it’s because you’re both introverts who like quality time rather than chatting. Maybe it’s because your love languages are both physical touch.

Either way, a night in at your place watching anime is completely normal. Laying side by side in your bed, both scrolling on your phones, not even paying attention to the plot of the show you’ve both seen a dozen times.

No one has spoken in, like, an hour but it’s honestly so nice you don’t even care.

Han giggles and lays his phone against his chest, covering his bare face as it turns red.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, nudging him.

“Ahhhh, I need this,” he says, turning his phone toward you. It’s a picture of a blonde girl wearing a crop top that reads "Had a bad day? You can play with my boobs."

"This would make literally everything better," he chuckles, looking at you expectantly-- in his head he’s waiting for a giggle or a funny reaction, not for what you actually say.

"Good thing I have a perfectly good pair of tits right here," you blurt without thinking.

"Really?!" he asks excitedly, dropping his phone as he rotates toward you, now laying on his side facing you instead of on his back. His eyes are so bright and excited, and his hand is already sliding up your torso-- how could you say no?

"Yeah," you say softly, shrugging. "I don't mind. We're friends,” you add on, becoming less sure as you talk. “I trust you."

"This is the best day of my life," he says as one of his hands cups one of your breasts and squeezes gently. "Oh-- is this your nipple?" he asks, walking his fingers back a couple of inches until two press down over your half-hard bud.

"Yes," you confirm, laughing softly. Your face warms up, all the way down your chest. You hope he doesn’t notice given that his eyes are so entranced on your chest.

"It's so cute," he coos, pressing your shirt down flat so your nipple pokes against it. Before you can formulate a thought, he's reaching over to your other boob, squeezing and feeling carefully until he finds your other nipple. It perks up in interest as he touches it, and your breath hitches in your throat when he starts very purposefully flicking his finger back and forth, trying to perk it up. 

"Aw, come on," he mumbles to himself. "It was hard and then it got soft again."

Probably because I'm starting to get flustered and trying to be calm, you think but don't tell him.

He pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers and rolls harshly, sending a very intense and quick shock through you. You bite your lip to stop a noise from escaping. Your heart rate is increasing and your skin is becoming much more sensitive to his touch. And he smells so good…

I'm so pathetic. He's barely been touching me a minute and it's making me horny.

"Ahh, there we go," he says happily now that your nipple is distinct through your t-shirt. You watch as a thought crosses his mind, making his eyebrows furrow slightly as his bottom lip pouts. 

Then he leans down, swiftly sucking your nipple through your shirt.

"Ahhhh," you moan, finally unable to hold it in. You grab fistfuls of your blankets in an effort to keep your hands to yourself. Somehow touching him, even just playing with his hair, would make this far more real than it already is.

"I was wondering when you'd make noise," he says, looking up at you with the most innocent eyes. Then he goes back, sucking you through your shirt while he gets his other hand up and onto your other tit as he turns and half lays on you, working his way until his legs and hips are between your thighs.

He kneads and squishes one boob while sucking the other nipple. Half of this is what you expected him to do-- maybe touch and hold your boobs for a minute or so and then laugh it off. You didn’t expect this. Not him soaking a wet patch through the front of your shirt.

Not one of his hands sneaking under your blanket to find the bottom hem.

Not him yanking your shirt up to your collarbones, breathing a soft "wow" while his sparkly eyes take in the sight of your naked chest.

"Hannie," you say with an unsure tone, but he either doesn't hear you or ignores it. Instead he leans in once more and kisses your nipple. He drags his soft lips against your bare skin and breathes in the smell of you. You're so warm against his cheek and he feels completely lost in the selfish pleasure of playing with you.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, twisting both of your nipples between his fingers. He pouts as he waits for your response, clearly wanting you to say yes.

You nod shyly and pull the collar of your shirt up to hide the bottom part of your face.

He beams up at you, then laughs and pulls your shirt back down.

“Hey, don’t hide from me. I want to see you.” He licks a circle around your burningly sensitive nipple. “And hear you,” he adds, sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You moan softly, cautiously reaching one hand up to rest on his back. He hums and flicks his tongue then releases your nipple with a pop.

“This really is the best,” he says, giving your other nipple equal treatment. He once again lets go with a dramatic pop.

“This is my favorite thing we’ve ever done.”

He switches back again but goes faster, sucks harder, making himself out of breath as he ravenously indulges in your chest.

“Fuck, your tits are so hot, baby.”

“Mmm,” you whine softly, turning your head away and covering your face slightly.

“Hey, I said don’t hide. What, you don’t think your tits are hot or something?”

“They’re not. They’re big but they sag. It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s fucking hot,” he insists, crawling a little higher so he can see you better. You can’t help but to gasp when you feel his hard-on slide against your crotch. “Do you know how many guys like big tits? I don’t care if they’re hanging down to your fucking stomach.” He smirks. “They’re easier to get in my mouth that way.”

“Oh my god, Hannie,” you laugh, playfully pushing on his cheek to move his head away from you.

“I’m so serious,” he says, though he laughs. “I can’t believe you’re letting me play with them. I’m on cloud nine.”

“I can kind of tell,” you say softly, shifting just enough so he feels the movement against his crotch and knows you’ve noticed his boner.

“Oh yeah,” he says, face blushing even deeper than yours. “You know what would be even better than playing with your tits?”

“What?”

“Eating you out.”

masterlist | Click here for part 2

[luveline]

I absolutely adore your Spencer x Hotch!sister fics! <3 Can we possibly see the dynamics if it were switched? A Hotch x Spencer's Older Sister fic, pretty please? But no worries if not! Thank you, hope you have a good day!

Was Spencer’s sister always this shy? Hotch can’t remember (and he can’t stop himself from flirting, just a little). fem, 1.4k

“Reid?” Hotch asks. 

Spencer grins at his phone. 

“Reid.” Hotch clears his throat. “Spencer.” 

Spencer puts his phone down on the desk, but he doesn’t seem to have heard Hotch either way. When he realises Hotch is standing by his desk, he perks up. “Hotch, can I ask a favour?” 

Hotch had been about to ask Spencer a favour, but it’s fine. “Sure.” 

“Uh, my sister is supposed to meet me for lunch in half an hour, but she doesn’t really like restaurants and I’m– me. Do you think she could come to the office?” he asks. 

“Sure, Reid. That’s fine, she just needs a visitor card.” 

Hotch can’t remember the last time he saw you. Probably when Reid first started tailing Gideon a few years ago, when you’d made the trip from Vegas to Quantico to see how he was settling. It was a brief introduction, and, while you may possess a few more practical graces than your brother, you were far shyer at the time. You didn’t mind shaking Hotch’s hand, but you struggled to maintain eye contact after. 

You don’t look much like your brother for reasons he’s never cared to ask, as Hotch has never placed much value on how family comes about. He doubts Spencer does either. But you stay in Vegas with your mother, and Spencer sees you three times a year. Birthdays and Christmas. And today, apparently. 

“What’s the occasion?” Hotch asks. 

Spencer smiles again. “I think she’s gonna move here, with me.” 

“Yeah?” Hotch isn’t the prying boss, but he’s a nosy friend. “Everything okay?” 

“Things are great, I mean.” Spencer has the expression of someone deciding what they can and can’t say. Eventually his eyes clear, and Hotch feels satisfied at the realisation that trust has settled tightly between them. “When I decided my mom needed help, Y/N, she hated that, and maybe she resented me, but– I used to worry she hated me, but she doesn’t.” 

“I don’t think she could,” Hotch says easily. 

Spencer nods. Whether he agrees is up for debate, though. “If t’s finally hit her that mom’s sick forever, so she’s feeling out her options.” 

“That must be a hard thing to realise.” 

“Yeah. But things really are great, she’s here now, her stuff is coming tomorrow, and– and maybe she’ll stay for a while.” 

Hotch likes excitement on Reid (when it doesn’t impede their most important work, that is). Truthfully, there’s so much to worry about that Hotch can’t admit to worrying about Reid as much in recent years, and yet he’s relieved to hear that there will be more Reid’s in a hundred mile radius. 

“I’m glad,” Hotch says honestly. “She’s more than welcome here. If she can cope with the photographs in the conference room, the round table is all yours.” 

Hotch retreats to his office and forgets about it for a while, submerged in his own lunch and a certain seven year old’s birthday planning. Jack wants a clown, and a cake with Cars, and he really wants a bounce house. Which is great, but Jack decided he wanted the bounce house last night, and his party is at the end of the week. Hotch makes a bunch of phone calls and finally gets to take a victory lap forty five minutes later. 

He steps out of his office, enticed by the sound of laughter. Spencer laughs like he’s surprised ninety percent of the time, and yours is no different. It’s clear to the listening ear who taught Spencer how to laugh. 

“I love it, I don’t ever want to hear a bad word about it,” you say through peels of it, a breathy, smiley warmth to you as a chair creaks from within the conference room, “and I mean that. Please don’t tell me any facts.” 

“I know so many you’d like to hear!” 

“I don’t doubt it, but please, as a favour? You can tell me about everything else.” 

“Processed cheeses–”

Hotch turns the corner as you put down a sandwich. “Okay, fine. I’m done, are you happy?” you ask, your smile fading into a more polite one as you meet Hotch’s eyes. 

“I didn’t get to say anything.” 

“Some things are better left unsaid,” Hotch says. He doesn’t interrupt, only says it into the quiet, and he doesn’t bother with fanfare. It’s just to alert Spencer of his presence. “Y/N,” Hotch adds, “hello. It’s good to see you.” 

He’s alarmed by your reaction —your eyes widen in your seat, hands hidden beneath your thighs, and your lips part ever so slightly. “Agent Hotchner,” you say softly, almost weakly. 

He’s not that intimidating, is he?

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” he says. 

“You’re not interrupting, I was just telling her about the dangers of processed cheese. They’re so irregularly salty that the sodium has to be marked as a cause of heart disease on FDA approved packaging for the service industry,” Spencer says. 

“I’m sure some every now and then won’t hurt,” Hotch says, attempting to offer you a friendly smile. “Spencer tells me you’re staying here for a while, that’s great. How are you liking the weather? It must be a change from Nevada?” 

You look peculiarly hot. “It’s different,” you agree.

Voices ring from the bullpen. 

Spencer stands up. You stand with him, but Spencer says, “Sorry, is that Morgan? He said I have to go and get him when you’re here.” 

“Spencer–”

Spencer’s already leaving. “He threatened me, actually,” he’s saying, more to himself than either of you as he departs. 

You wring your hands. 

Hotch worries his brows are giving him away. You’re acting strangely, but maybe he’s too much. He is a special agent, sometimes the other parents at Jack’s school get antsy around him like they’re worried he can tell they haven’t paid their last parking fine. Maybe you’ve a secret crime you’ve committed. 

He watches you more closely, to your flustering. 

No crime, Hotch thinks, but a secret. Even from Spencer. 

“So how’s your day, Agent Hotchner?” you ask softly. 

It’s actually quite sweet, the way you say it. Your nerves are cute. 

“Busy.” The expected answer. “I’ve been trying to plan a birthday party between paperwork.” 

“For Jack?” 

He smiles with more gentleness. “Yes, for Jack.” 

“He was, um, a newborn, when we last met. Just a couple of weeks old, I think. How old is he turning now?” 

“Seven.” 

You breathe out. “Wow. Seven years.” 

Seven years, and your crush on him remains. That’s what he’d forgotten —when you visited Spencer at the time, even Gideon had mentioned your frazzled, almost dizzy disposition whenever Hotch was around. And Gideon tended to focus narrowly on work at work, so Hotch had known he wasn’t making it up. 

At the time it had been cute, but awkward too, and infeasible. He’d been dedicatedly married and in love with his Haley. And if he weren’t, your age gap might’ve been a little non-functioning, Hotch well into his thirties, and you a fresh twenty-five. 

Today you’re older, and more beautiful. Something about you has shifted, a blossoming into your features, and Hotch actually has the ability to notice it now. 

Your Spencer’s sister, he remembers suddenly. Probably not a woman he should flirt with, some subtle compliment lost on his tongue. 

“You look the same,” you say. 

He laughs. “That’s kind and untrue. I’m getting old.” 

The look you give him then is a shock and a pit, long the long forgotten twist of butterflies. “No,” you say, looking down at your hands, “I wouldn’t say that.” 

“What would you say?” he asks. 

You’re saved —poor girl, he doesn’t know what he was thinking, you can barely hold your head up— as Morgan bounds up the stairs and into the conference room. He gathers you for a hug as though he knows you better than he does, and Hotch loses sight of your face. 

Unknown to him and unseen, Morgan’s greeting is white noise. Why does he talk like that? you think to yourself desperately. He’s asking you all those questions with this weight to them, and he’s so calm! I’m going back to Vegas. 

“How long are you staying?” Morgan asks. 

You laugh weakly and accidentally catch Hotch’s eye, who smiles at you nicely. 

“Oh, I don’t know. A couple of weeks, maybe.” 

Longer, if you have reason. 

[cosmicbucky]

wallpaper

summary: bucky finds out how to change the wallpaper on your phone, and takes every opportunity he can to do so. until one day he doesn't have the heart to

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 1000

warnings: fluff, nonspecific friends to lovers, this was just a dumb idea i had

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The first time Bucky changed the wallpaper on your phone, it was an accident - kind of. He sat on your couch, lazily scrolling through the photos of Alpine you insisted he looked at, because you simply couldn’t resist having a Halloween photoshoot with her while he was off on yet another mission, leaving her in your trusting hands. He was happy you were in the kitchen, because he would never let you see the smile he wore as he browsed the album, chuckling silently to himself over how elaborate these photos were. His mood swiftly changed when he swiped incorrectly, an array of different options suddenly presenting themselves to him. He swore under his breath as he tried to make them go away, but he only made it worse as the option to change your wallpaper came up. With an annoyed huff, he just kept tapping, figuring that eventually he would get it back to how it was. After a few more grueling seconds, he sighed in relief as he was once more face to face with Alpine sitting inside a jack-o-lantern candy bucket - how was he supposed to know that photo was now both your lockscreen and homescreen?

“Did you change my lockscreen?” you curiously asked when you finally sat back down beside him, taking your phone and checking it for any new messages.

“Did I what?” he asked in confusion, his head snapping up from his own phone to look at you with a scrunched brow. 

You could only laugh lightly, turning your phone to display the new photo brandishing your screen. The second Bucky saw it, his eyes widened almost imperceptibly as his face flushed ever so slightly. 

“I, uh- sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t mean to, your phone is just - it’s different than mine.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, your chuckles growing into more laughter as you realized it was also your homescreen. “It’s okay, Buck,” you assured softly, laughing quietly as you changed the photos back to their precursors. “It could have been worse, at least it’s not an embarrassing photo or something.” 

You were too busy fixing his mistake to notice the glint that sparkled in his eyes, a smirk growing on his face as your words gave him the most incredible idea he’s had in a while. 

The second time Bucky changed your wallpaper, it was very much not an accident. You left him your phone so he could look at the photos you took on your latest trip, unpacking your bags as he split his attention between listening to your stories and scrolling through a seemingly endless array of new pictures - which he truthfully enjoyed, but he was on a secret mission for the perfect, nondescript one to choose. 

“Again, Buck?” you giggled, flopping on the bed beside him as you took your phone back. 

“What?” he asked, just innocent and clueless enough to not raise any flags. 

“You and your fat thumbs, I swear,” you mumbled under your breath, changing the photos back once more, completely oblivious to his proud little smirk.

It took three more times for you to suspect that Bucky had started doing it on purpose, but your suspicions weren’t proven correct until he took a photo of you to display.

“Did you- when- really?” you stammered as you looked between him and your phone, half annoyed and half impressed because when did he even take this photo? 

He only grinned in response, laughing about how long he was able to do it under the pretense of it being an accident before running away in a fit of giggles, dodging the pillow you threw after him.

From that moment on, it became a game for him. 

Any opportunity that presented itself, Bucky snatched your phone and changed your displays to the most embarrassing and ridiculous photos of yourself.

A sunset was changed to you mid-sneeze. Alpine was changed to you post-nap. You partying with the gang was changed to an extreme close up of your face in that very photo. Louisiana docks were changed to you mid rant as you yelled at him to give you your phone back. A cherry blossom was changed to you passed out on the couch, wrapped up in a hoodie you stole from him and drooling all over the sleeve of it. 

As time went on, you stopped being surprised whenever it happened, and you grew to enjoy it. It was a silly thing, but it was a silly thing that only you and Bucky shared. It was a special thing, a cherished thing. It was your favourite thing.

Neither of you realized how the dynamic between the two of you started morphing into something else right in front of your very eyes. It was slow. It was gradual and complex and delicate and went unnoticed for almost a whole year. 

It was only noticed now, as Bucky took the opportunity to grab your phone as you slept soundly against his chest. It had been a while since he was able to get a chance to do this, and so he eagerly unlocked your phone, already running through different ideas of what picture to use. 

He was caught off guard when the picture staring back at him was from a few weeks ago. It was the day you finally convinced him to let you drive his bike after months of endless asking. It was a photo neither of you knew Sam took until later that night, when he sent it to both of you. 

It was you, sat in front of him on the bike and wrapped up in his arms, one securely planted on either side of you as his hands rested on yours, guiding you through everything as you both gleefully laughed at the fact that you actually managed to convince him to do this. 

For once, Bucky didn’t have the heart to change it. 

He couldn’t. 

It was his wallpaper, too. 

[thehorrorgirlstyles]

Make you Scream

Billy Loomis x reader

Summary: You find out your boyfriend is Ghostface, which should scare you, instead it turns you on even more.

Warnings: Blood, Violence, sexual content, 18+ themes, swearing, foreplay, knife-play, mature themes, sex, reader is in denial

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"It's gotta be him right, I mean in a horror movie, it's always the person closet to you that turns out to be a fucking killer, I'm telling you man" Randy says to you as you both walk down the hallway of your school.

"Randy for the last time, Billy... who is my boyfriend as you know, is not a fucking killer.. trust me I know him better than anyone else... and besides if he was Ghostface I don't think he would be able to hide it from me" You reply, holding you books closer to your chest.

It's been a week since news of Casey and Steve's murders and Randy won't stop coming up with ideas on who the mystery killer is. First he pointed fingers at you because you never liked the girl, which he claims is a perfect motive. You don't like half the people at your school, but they're all still alive, so his reasoning is invalid. Now, he's claiming it's your boyfriend, which you think is ridiculous, I mean why is he naming all the people in your friend group for starters, you guys are friends for crying out loud.

"I don't know man Billy is pretty scary looking" He says opening the door to the library.

You walk in and drop the books off, "Well I think he looks sexy"

"Gross"

"Can we stop talking about Ghostface now, you know Stu is hosting a party tonight, you going?" You ask him.

"Yeah right, the killer will probably show up there, a bunch of drunk, not to mention high teens that probably won't notice if someone gets stabbed...but yeah I'll be there".

You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

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After you left Randy, you went to grab a book you forgot in your locker. You decided to go now since everyone was in class and the halls would be empty.

You turn the corner and run straight into a hard figure. You look up to quickly apologize, but see no other than Ghostface himself. You gasp in shock and back away quickly, your heart starting to race.

Ghostface stares at you, mocking your movements. You see him pull out a knife from behind him. He looks at it and runs his fingers along the blade, toying with you. Quickly, you run past him and reach the stairs towards the main entrance of the school, but he's quicker. He grabs your arm, halting you from going down and pulls you backwards, your back meeting his chest. You try to break free, but he slices at your arm, the knife cutting into your shoulder. You scream out and fight against him.

He brings the knife up to your throat and pushes against it, cutting just enough to draw blood. You close your eyes, thinking this is your final moments and you curse yourself for not putting up more of a fight, but it never comes. He stays still, holding the knife against your throat, but not going deeper. You open your eyes and look up at him, but he's looking off to the side. What is he distracted by? You don't stay to think as you use this as a time to escape, you push at his arms and he lets go without putting up a fight. You didn't realize how easily he would let you go, as you were close to the edge of the stairs. You trip out of his arms and your foot skips a step, making you tumble down the stairs.

When you reach the bottom of the stairs, your vision goes black and you can faintly make out two voices arguing.

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When you wake up, you feel your head pounding. You take in your surroundings and try to make sense of where you are. You look around the room and see your boyfriend sitting in a sit next to you, his face in his hands.

"Billy?" You rasp out.

He immediately looks up at you and rushes over to your side.

"Y/n, how are you feeling, are you okay?" He grabs your hand and goes to touch your hair.

"Yeah, I-I'm okay, are we at a hospital?" You ask leaning into his touch.

"You fell down the stairs, I found you and called the ambulance"

"Oh my God, I remember now..Billy the killer he was trying to kill me!.. He was at the school!"

He looks off to the side like he's angry at something, "I'm dealing with it, but uh- the doctor said you should be free to go tonight, your injuries where just minor, nothing serious, they think you weren't looking and tripped"

"That's goods, but the killer...wait what do you mean dealing with it?" You ask, confused by his response.

"Nothing, listen I have to go to Stu's party tonight, are you still up for it?" He ask, moving a stray hair behind your ear.

"Are you serious, I just told you I got attacked by the killer and you want to go to a party?" You look at him in disbelief.

"Trust me nothing's going to happen to you, I'll be by your side at all times... and you don't have to go, but the doctor said you'll be fine, I just really have to go Y/n"

You roll your eyes at him, "Fine, I'll go with you.. I need a drink anyways".

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After you got cleared from the hospital, you went home to change. Luckily you didn't break anything on the way down the stairs, getting away with the few marks left by Ghostface. Billy was adamant on going to this party, which makes no sense to you. Now that you think about it he didn't seem phased when you mentioned that a literal killer had you in his grasp ready to slice your throat. Weird.

"You look so hot Y/n... I heard what happened at school you okay?" Tatum says to you when she opens the door.

"Thanks, you too and yeah I'm okay it wasn't anything serious" You give her a hug and walk inside, your hands interlocked with Billy's.

"Hey I'm going to grab a drink, you want anything?" You shout to your boyfriend, over the loud music.

"No, I'm fine sweetheart, come straight to me after, don't want anyone slipping something into your drink".

"Ok, meet you by the front" You saying giving him a final kiss on the lips then leaving.

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After you grabbed your drink, you walked back, frowning when you realize that Billy wasn't by the front.

Instead you see Randy by the door, drinking a beer, "Hey Randy, have you seen Billy?"

"I saw him go upstairs" He nods towards the stairs, continuing to drink his beer.

You go to walk upstairs, but he stops you, "Hey what happened at school?"

"What do you mean?...everyone heard that I fell down the stairs".

"Yeah..but like did you fall, or were you pushed?" He asks you, looking dead into your eyes.

You sigh, "It was Ghostface, he tried to kill me at the school, but something distracted him... He let go of me and I missed the step, when I woke up in the hospital Billy was there and he said it was better if I didn't tell the cops anything, that way Ghostface won't come after me anymore".

Randy scoffs, "Don't you see, it is so clearly him.. "don't tell the cops", that's complete bullshit, in what world would you not tell the cops a literal killer came after you?... and your stupid enough to agree with him, HELLO?!"

"Randy, enough with this Ghostface shit, I know you think it's Billy, but its not and if I was pushed down the stairs, it wouldn't be by him.. I do think it's a little weird he didn't seen phased by it, but I trust him.. he probably just didn't want to scare me into thinking Ghostface was going to come after me again and besides I'm pretty fine, just a few scratches".

"Whatever, you're either in serious denial or your a complete fucking idiot, I'm leaving.. call me later, if you're still alive be then" He grabs the door handle and walks out, slamming it shut.

You think that maybe Randy's right, even though he could have worded it nicer. I mean you were just in a hospital a few hours ago and now you're at a party?!

You brush off Randy's words and start to head upstairs. You pause when you get to the top, hearing hushed voices.

"I'm going to fucking kill you!..Why the hell would you go after Y/n.. when was that part of the plan?"

"You're going to kill Tatum, why can't I kill Y/n?"

"Uhh- maybe because Y/n is my girlfriend dumbass".

"Tatum is my girlfriend!"

"Yeah, but Tatum is just a means to an end, we actually want Y/n alive because I love her!"

"Whatever I'm going to go talk to Tatum before you kill her!"

Just as he stops talking, your phone starts to ring. Shit! You hurry up and try to turn it off seeing that it's Randy. This man has perfect timing.

"What the fuck was that?" Stu asks.

Before you can leave, a tall figure appears from around the corner. Billy stares at you, his facial expression unreadable. Your heart drops.

"Well What is it?" Stu asks.

He continues to stare at you for a minute before answering, "It's nothing, someone was probably at the bottom of the stairs".

You don't wait to hear Stu's reply and hurry down the stairs. WHAT THE FUCK?! Randy was right this whole time, Billy is ghostace? Stu is ghostface? THERE ARE TWO GHOSTFACE?!

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name.

You look behind you and see Billy standing by the stairs, he nods his head, wanting you to follow him upstairs. This is dumb right? You shouldn't go upstairs BY YOURSLEF with someone you know is a killer. You should call the police and turn both of them in.

You follow Billy upstairs. He leads you to one of the guest bedrooms, opening the door for you. You walk in first and he closes the door behind you, locking it.

You face him, waiting for him to speak. He smiles at you, shaking his head, "Why were you on the stairs?"

"I was looking for you".

"Hmmm, and you found me" He chuckles. "What did you hear?" he asks, walking closer to you.

You back up, your legs hitting the side of the bed, "Nothing".

"Mmmh, okay... Do I scare you?" He closes the gap between you.

"No".

He nods at your answer and he reaches behind himself, pulling a knife out of his pocket. He holds it up and quickly grabs you, applying pressure to your neck. You gasp at his quick movements.

"And what about now?" He says adding pressure, but not enough to actually hurt you.

"No".

"No? I don't make you scare sweetheart, even after you know what I have done, the people I've killed?"

"No".

You don't know why, but you're finding this to be extremly hot. Billy threatening you with a knife, but knowing that he would never hurt you. Maybe you're just sick in the head, after all your boyfriend is a murder, you shouldn't feel this way, but you do. Maybe it's because of all the dark romance books you have been reading or maybe it's because you love him too much that you can cast away his flaws. You should probably call the cops, but instead you rub your legs together, the friction does nothing to ease your aching cunt.

Billy catches the movement without his eyes, and groans when he sees what you're doing, "You're enjoying this?".. "You're more sick than I am, what a dirty whore you are" He chuckles out.

You moan, "Billy pleasee, I-I just need you".

"You want it baby?" he guides the knife over the top of your chest.

"Please, Mr. Ghostface".

His eyes darkenen in response as he halts his movement, looking at you. He grabs at you quickly and slices your top open with the knife, exposing your breast. The cold meets your chest, your nipples hardening. He looks down at your breast and moves his mouth to meet your bud. He licks and flicks at it with his tongue. He moves up to your neck and laps at it, leaving marks. You moan and wrap your arms around his neck, encouraging him to continue his bitting.

When he finishes attacking your neck, he picks you up and throws you on the bed. You gasp as your back meets the mattress. He gets on top of you and starts to undo his belt.

"Turn around and get on all fours" He tells you, slapping your cheek.

You listen to him and flip over on your stomach. After he gets his pants off, he flips your skirt over, exposing your bare cunt.

"You didn't wear anything underneath?" He asks in shock, but he quickly turns unfazed.

"Always prepared for me huh sweetheart" He pulls your legs closer to his hip and you can feel just how hard he is. He rubs his tip against your entrance, making you grow wetter by the second. Without warning he pushes his length past your folds. Making you scream out. You quickly adjust to his big size, the pain turning into pleasure.

He snaps his hips back and forth. Your whines egg him on as he continues to fuck into you ruthlessly not caring if you can take it. He doesn't let you gather your breath, each movement your face pushes more into the sheets. You cry out, but it's muffled by the sheets. He repeatedly hits your g-spot, making you cry out even more.

"Fuck, look at you making a mess on my cock, you're a fifthly little thing aren't you?" He pulls you up, your back meeting his chest, waiting for you to answer him.

"Only for you Billy~" You whine out, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure.

He pushes you back down into the sheets, his movements continuing, "That's right baby, you're mine, my dirty slut, my pussy to fuck, my cunt to cum in".

You feel his dick twitch inside of you, knowing that he is close. You moan out his name, begging for him to fuck into you faster. He listens, his pace picking up. Your wet pussy hugs his dick, clenching around it tightly.

"Fuck, Y/n..I'm gonna cum, you feel so good... so wet for me baby"

You moan in response, as you feel yourself getting closer and closer. With one final snap of his hips you clench down on his cock, causing him to reach his climax too.

"Fuckk~" He pulls your body closer to him, making sure that his dick is fully inside you as far as it can go. You feel his cum painting your walls as he comes undone. He collapses on top of you, his dick twitching inside of you. When you both calm down from your highs, he flips you over, pulling your naked body on top of his.

After you both finish, you lay on the bed together. He holds you to his chest and strokes your hair. You look up at him and he grins at you. You reach up to meet his lips. He kisses you back immediately, humming into the kiss. After a while, you pull back and look up at him, meeting his eyes.

"Please don't kill Tatum, I like her".

He chuckles, "Whatever you want baby".

[deadsnakey]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋..𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄'𝐒.

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

—> Being childhood best friends with both Mattheo and Theodore was an adventure on it's own. Although, what if they start acting more possessive and protective towards you once they develop feelings for you?

Thank you for requesting @slutsluvpaola - your ask here!💗

—> Childhood best friends to lovers trope, very fluffy, maybe a little suggestive, none toxic possessive behaviour & jealousy.

—> When you guys were kids, they were protective of you.

—> If anybody was messing with you or hurting you, they'd do something about it asap like it was on sight and they always left that person scared shitless to even go near you.

—> To the point where ppl just stopped fucking w u like they didn't have the balls to even try.

—> Cool now y'all are in Hogwarts and as they get older, they seem to be more handsy and possessive over you.

—> I mean you weren't complaining all that much. although, it would get annoying sometimes when you just wanted some space or to talk to someone or do something without them breathing down your damn neck.

—> But in third year you started getting feelings for mattheo, then Theodore a month later and you were so confused.

—> You kept the act up, just like they did, but eventually it got harder to pretend in fifth year.

—> When they were always hands on with you - hand on your thigh, holding your hand each, always sitting next to you every chance they got, pulling you into their laps randomly as they wrap their arms around your waist and nuzzle their faces in the crook of your neck.

—> Yeah, you were a goner.

—> The boys probably started falling for each other in the end of fourth year, so in fifth when they started liking you as well they too, were extremely confused .

—> Mattheo was bad especially because he's bad with his own emotions.

—> They will be at every party you're attending too, trust.

—> even if one can't make it and it's js Matty going w you or just Theo, one of them had to be with you.

—> It doesn't matter if you're in the same house or not, better marking on you tbh.

—> Mattheo hands on your waist behind you, Theodore in front of you holding one of your hands to guide you.

"c'mon, sweet girl, let's get some drinks at the bar." Mattheo said, letting Theodore lead the way. Mattheo got a cup, filled it with the drink you wanted before handing it to you. "Here, princess." Then repeating for Theodore and then himself. Satisfied, they go and find the rest of your friends; seemingly in the corner where the seats are, talking.

"look who finally came! The love birds of the group." Lorenzo snickered. "How about you go see if you can get into that girls pants, you know, the one you're practically eye fucking." Mattheo rolled his eyes as he sneered back. "I just might, mate."

You go to sit down when you feel hands clamp down on your hips from behind you, pulling you down with enough force to not hurt you. You look behind yourself, seeing Theo with a smirk pulling on his lips. You let him pull you into his lap.

Mattheo lights a cigarette and inhales deeply before exhaling. He silently offers it to Theodore as he blows the smoke out; Theo leaning in and inhaling the smoke, slightly touching Matty's lips as they make eye contact. Mattheo slithers his hand onto your thigh, you feel the warmth of his hand spread through your skin as you feel the few cold rings he has on mixing with the warmth.

He squeezes your thigh almost the same time Theo squeezes your waist, "you okay, pretty girl? Need anything?" You look at mattheo on your right, "no, I'm okay Matty. You?", "I'm okay. Now that I have you two here with me." He mumbles the last few parts of his sentence, a slight smile appearing onto his lips. Although, he knows you two still heard him.

—> sometimes their clinginess gets so bad where they will not let you get up for breakfast. Good luck convincing them to not miss all your classes as well lol.

—> they love cuddling you and each other but they'd never admit that.

—> they only cuddle each other if you're unavailable or not at school (holiday n stuff).

—> Tiny kisses to the back of your neck, forehead, nose and hand. It's a good excuse to kiss you and they love when you kiss them, too

—> Matty prefers his cheek or forehead kissed, while Theodore his neck, jaw or cheek.

—> tho it'd be better on the lips.

—> they go to the bathroom w you too.

—> they don't care it's the woman's bathroom, they will be guarding your stall!!!!💗💗💗 They can never be too sure.

Reblogs, likes & comments are much appreciated!🫶🏻

[queenie-the-court-jester]

an unhealthy obsession

Online boyfriend x afab!reader

A/n: this was rushed, sorry y'all 😞🌺

tw: noncon, drugging, somnophilia, identity fraud, mentioned cheating, online relationship, kidnapping, mention of masturbation

💉you met Xavier exactly a year and a half ago. A friend Introduced you, with you both quickly hitting it off. He was so charismatic and friendly! He made you feel good inside. Becoming mutuals, you were chatting everyday. (After confirming he was a real person and who he said he was)

💊 but little did you know he was lying about everything. All the pictures he sent? Edited. His calls and voice recordings? Distorted to where you can't recognize it. He was highly insecure, thinking that if you knew who he really was you'd turn your nose in disgust

💉he wasn't actually Xavier. He was an ex boyfriend you used to have in highschool, freshman year. You knew most relationships at that age never lasted long, but you couldn't help and feel hurt when you walked in on him messing around with some girl. You forgot his name...

💊 he regretted what he did. He really did! But he knew you wouldn't give him another chance so easily. So he was left to pretend to be someone else, just to hear your laugh. See your face through pictures. He couldn't get you out of his head! His parents were never there for him, but you were. You were always there. Loving and coddling him. He'd be damned to let that go so easily

💉it took a while to get your friend to introduce him, and every bone in his body to not jump and squeal in joy when you both finally "met". But now that you've been dating for a while, you want to meet up.. that's not good. He can keep making excuses for so long until you get tired

💊 so he does anything to pacify you. Sending you money, gifts, flowers. All while stroking himself to hearing your excited rambles on call. How many times has he shamelessly masturbated to your voice? He couldn't count. You were just too sexy!

💉 his resolve lasted only 5 more months until he finally agreed to meet you. His heart beating with anxiety as he waited in the cafe. Wearing sunglasses, a facemask and a hoodie. Brushing it off as him being shy you sat next to him and quickly started talking. As if you weren't uneasy by his (lack of) appearance. God how he adored you.

💊 you went on multiple dates after that, trying to convince him to take off the mask and glasses but he was stubborn. 'Till he got a grand idea. Inviting you to his house was the biggest blessing for him, and the biggest nightmare for you. Setting up a fancy dinner in his living room, whipping up your favorite dish and drink. Crushing fertility and sleeping pills in the food

💉clueless you trusted him blindly, giving him a kiss on the cheek and smiling fondly at the romantic setting. He pulled out a chair for you to sit down, and pushed it back in once you did. Still wearing his glasses and face mask, but at this point you didn't mind it as much

💊 he watched you eat quietly, chit chatting as he could feel all the blood rush to his cock in anticipation of his dubious plan. You started to feel drowsy and apologized halfway to finishing your food, your cup empty as you went to the sofa and fell ontop of it. Barely conscious

💉he grinned, taking off his glasses and mask, picking you up easily and shakily Snaking a hand down to tug off your clothes. worming his tongue in-between your lips, Hungrily lapping at your saliva while plopping you onto the bed.

💊 he ripped off his shirt, grabbing a bottle of lube and shoving the tip into your hole. Squirting it inside as he teased your genitals. Pulling the bottle away, he quickly replaced it with his dick's tip. Shoving it in and letting out a satisfied groan, bottoming out inside your slippery insides.

💉 he wasted no time In pounding into you, holding your hips flushed against his as he was determined to breed your tight pussy. Bending down a bit to suckle on your breasts, biting and nibbling anywhere he could reach. He went all night, until he physically couldn't give you anymore of his sperm.

💊 flopping ontop of you, he kissed your unconscious form tenderly, caressing your tummy with a loving smile. When you'd wake up, you'd definitely remember your ex boyfriend, Damien.

"so pretty.. now you can't leave me, because soon We'll have a baby on the way~ you wouldn't mind living in the forest where no one can find you right? Hah, ofcourse you don't.."