#DID I ALREADY TOLD U THAT I LOVE UR FICS??

[layraket]

In front of them, the sun sinks into the clouds, lighting up the sky in a blaze of reds, yellows, and oranges. Night insects start their buzzing and a cool breeze whisks away the day’s heat. The sweet taste of hydromelon lingers on Wild’s tongue. Surrounded by friends and family, he closes his eyes. Thank you, Hylia, for granting me this opportunity. I’m home.

what if i tell u that i cried

please go to check @breannasfluff's Linked moments series! this scene being from Hydromelons and Hope

im gonna miss this series so much, at least we got a happy ending!

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.

genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating

warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon

word count: 21,858

playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))

author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.

to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.

In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this. 

In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents. 

Or to you. 

Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!” 

Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come. 

Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?

When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.” 

And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay. 

The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.” 

Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head. 

Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies. 

For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches. 

“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.

The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes. 

His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you. 

There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you. 

Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking. 

Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments. 

Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out. 

This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle. 

It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony. 

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years. 

Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat. 

The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.

“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper. 

Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.” 

A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs. 

“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.” 

Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live. 

“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows. 

It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears. 

“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.” 

“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?” 

With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her. 

“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping. 

Sunghoon cries again. 

Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him. 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word. 

Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.” 

There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.

Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.

“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?” 

“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected. 

As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him. 

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?” 

“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?” 

“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him. 

As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.

Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way. 

Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask. 

Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.” 

His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.” 

“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”

You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor. 

He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you? 

Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set. 

When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away. 

The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been. 

For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same. 

Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks. 

He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear. 

“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.” 

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all. 

A familiar weight lands on his shoulder��your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay. 

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home. 

“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw. 

“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.” 

These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.

He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”

You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking. 

Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine. 

He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles. 

“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?” 

A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.” 

The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads. 

You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”

Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”

An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.” 

The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting. 

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.” 

Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper. 

“Open the boot.”

He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what. 

You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”

Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move. 

You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.” 

For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other. 

Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours. 

With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again. 

Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed. 

He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace. 

Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not. 

It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it. 

While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since. 

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying. 

“What happened?”

You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck. 

For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough. 

“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”

A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room. 

Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down. 

Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room. 

For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding. 

“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn. 

“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.” 

You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?” 

His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed. 

Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly. 

The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet. 

As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch. 

After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.

You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs. 

Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”

Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.” 

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?” 

A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?” 

“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it. 

A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.” 

As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway. 

“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.

Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.” 

If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction. 

“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”

At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes. 

The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs. 

“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea. 

His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.

Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping. 

His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush. 

Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.

After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used. 

“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.” 

Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry. 

His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it. 

Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt. 

“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.

Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally. 

“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.” 

Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.

“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?” 

Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for. 

Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?” 

Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.” 

Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed. 

“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.” 

“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?” 

“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”

“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?” 

Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.” 

Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak. 

“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?” 

You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you. 

“I didn’t.” 

He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t. 

Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.

“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff. 

“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out. 

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.” 

Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront. 

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”

He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.” 

“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him. 

“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.” 

You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing. 

“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.

Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.” 

You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat. 

Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents. 

For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do. 

You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.” 

“What?” 

You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”

In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now. 

About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing. 

He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother. 

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.” 

He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince. 

An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family. 

The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you. 

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.

In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.

Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan. 

Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak. 

“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush. 

You don’t respond. 

Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.” 

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks. 

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves. 

Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.” 

You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot. 

“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head. 

He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave? 

The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.

It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep. 

“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again.  “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.” 

Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point. 

You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning. 

The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing. 

“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.” 

All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it. 

“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.” 

It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.

“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.” 

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.” 

It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart. 

Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead. 

It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.

Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely. 

You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.

He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?” 

The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them. 

“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.

“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.

Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?” 

Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down. 

True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.

YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it? 

hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you. 

“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt. 

“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too. 

She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.” 

“The longest of my life.” 

Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her. 

During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her. 

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work. 

Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?” 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.” 

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.” 

“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.” 

“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”

Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.

You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind. 

When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.

You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand. 

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you? 

hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D 

Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.

“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him. 

Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction. 

“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.” 

“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides. 

He hums, nodding his head.

You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day. 

“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.” 

“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?” 

Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.” 

He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.

“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?” 

A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.” 

“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.” 

“Deal.” 

Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.

At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.

Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard. 

During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.

“How are your notes so good?” 

“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.” 

A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles. 

Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..

There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin. 

You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.

After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs. 

To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.

Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.

Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence. 

“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.” 

“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?” 

Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose. 

“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.” 

You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.” 

Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices. 

It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.

“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.” 

Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?” 

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”

“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.” 

You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed. 

Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?” 

You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”

“You seem fine to me.” 

A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way. 

From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?” 

“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”

At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed. 

“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door. 

Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing. 

“Tell me.” 

Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.” 

Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm. 

Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think. 

It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?

Yeonjun did.

Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring. 

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges. 

You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk. 

You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours. 

There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world. 

You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate. 

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.” 

Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon. 

“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.” 

A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.

“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.” 

Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest. 

“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”

That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it. 

This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.” 

You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say. 

At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.

You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.

It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon. 

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news? 

wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call? 

She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call. 

“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear. 

“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day. 

Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?” 

“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.” 

A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.” 

“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.” 

Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up. 

Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm. 

She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table? 

you: i’ll try..

It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view. 

Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table. 

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.” 

He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.

“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.

Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”

You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference. 

You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up. 

After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”

“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.” 

He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.” 

“You’re distracting.”

A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?” 

Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel. 

Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head. 

“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?” 

Oh. 

Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.” 

His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.

“Are you going to get that?” 

Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.” 

You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.

“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.” 

“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too. 

After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought. 

Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table. 

What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on. 

The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set. 

“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.” 

“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?” 

Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.” 

“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy. 

A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in. 

Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are? 

You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon. 

Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink. 

On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor. 

Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.” 

The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation. 

“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.” 

Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it. 

“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better. 

The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet. 

Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.

Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on. 

“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.

“I want to.” 

His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away. 

“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.” 

You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.” 

Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.” 

You nod.

“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.” 

Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles. 

“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it. 

Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you. 

You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling. 

Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence. 

It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”

Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.

Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you. 

Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter. 

Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands. 

“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart. 

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting. 

One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.

Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite. 

The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.

Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger. 

Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you. 

With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you. 

Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.

Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.” 

You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight. 

It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under. 

You love him. He’s gone. 

Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on. 

Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing. 

Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands. 

“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you. 

“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him. 

You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.” 

The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.

“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”

An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.

“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs. 

“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.

You nod. “So much.” 

Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?” 

Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.” 

“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it. 

“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely. 

You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.” 

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.

He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest. 

The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️ 

This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!

When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants. 

Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t. 

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!

hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.

you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hoonie: Thx 😁

hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈

you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.

Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back. 

The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?” 

You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.” 

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”

“A good something?” 

“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.” 

Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage. 

He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.” 

In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.

“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?” 

You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly. 

“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done. 

He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too. 

“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies. 

Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.

“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over. 

“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.” 

Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent. 

“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond. 

You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.

Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.

Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods. 

He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot. 

“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.” 

You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.

“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.” 

Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down. 

Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.

Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can. 

Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.

“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.

He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”

Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock. 

A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.

Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest. 

“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest. 

Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise. 

“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.” 

It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.

“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours. 

You nod. “You can.” 

Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you. 

What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit. 

“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings. 

You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

“And this? If you want..” 

You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you. 

Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats. 

Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.

Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.

It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly. 

Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.” 

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them. 

“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.

Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage. 

A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?” 

You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.” 

Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble. 

He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls. 

Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.

You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.

“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.” 

Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.

Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under. 

You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth. 

After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition. 

The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back. 

“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”

mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma

Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes. 

Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back. 

you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap

mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot

you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life

© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[moon7jay]

Can u make a jake or( whatever member u want)make up sex ? If not it's okay! 💗🐣

Ofc I can bb 🫶actually was already working on a hurt comfort fic before you requested it

love on you (s.jy)

Idol!jake x artist!reader

Warnings : angst ,hurt-comfort, smut, fluff, reader is insecure

Wc : 4.5k

"Man you didn't tell us y/n won an award wtf" jay's words sounded like static to jake's ears

"What? " He questioned through his hoarse voice, his head throbbing because of the constant state of moving his body had been in for the past few days. He doesn't remember when he last slept for more than 4 hours

"She just posted it on her story, check it out if you even care bro" jay scoffed and left the room, his voice condescending and accusing.

jake's brows furrowed while he automatically reached for his phone

"What do you mean if I even care? " he muttered to himself, feeling anger rise up in his chest at jay's tone.

His thumb swiped at your profile and clicked on your story, all anger leaving his body when he saw your figure holding the golden trophy while standing in front of the mirror, your face hidden from the flashlight of your phone.

His heart sank to his stomach and dread filled up his chest when he realised the gravity of the situation

"fuck" He muttered and rubbed his temples, heart running a mile per minute. What had he done.

He quickly clicked on his notifs and saw a couple of messages from you dated yesterday

"Shit baby I'm so sorry" he muttered, the throbbing in his chest reaching fever pitch, an ugly feeling rearing it's head in his chest when he finally read your messages

[Mine🤍]

[5:40 pm] I'm wearing the blue dress that you love so much tonight :), tell me how I look

[5:40 pm] (photo attachment)

jake clicked on the picture and he wanted to cry. You looked like a fucking goddess. God you were beautiful, you were so beautiful he was questioning how you were real.... how you were his

[6:30 pm] I'm feeling nervous, can't wait for you to be here, I just need to hold your hand for a bit, only for a bit I promise :(

[7:21 pm] you aren't coming are you

[3:30 am] (audio message)

jake's heart felt like it was tearing apart in two, he had fucked up so bad and he didn't think there was anything he could do to make this right.

There were missed calls from you after that last message and finally an audio message that sat staring at jake ominously

He rubbed his palm over his face and finally pressed play with trembling fingers

"Hi babyy i miss you- you slurred, your voice was shaky and he could tell that you were drunk when you recorded this message ,intoxication dripped from your tone

"Where even are you? Busy? Did you at least eat today baby?" he didn't deserve it, he didn't deserve your concern or love, he didn't fucking deserve you

"I hope you did- there was a pause - I haven't eaten- your voice sounded solemn all of a sudden, as if you were deep in your thoughts now, ur voice was hoarse like you had been crying

"Don't feel like eating ...... I waited for you- a sharp inhale, shit, you were crying. jake felt his own eyes dampen at hearing your first sniffle, he hated when you cried. He hated that he was the reason why.

"I feel stupid now" You whispered and then laughed condescendingly

"I mean, it's not like it was an important award anyway... just a stupid art exhibition. It's not like my art is that good anyway, I'm honestly questioning if they gave me that award cuz they needed a female in the merit list"

Wrong. You were amazing. And if anyone deserved that award it was you.

But jake didn't remember the last time he had told you that.

another sniffle

"You have more important stuff to do and i get that. And i told myself I won't cry today but here I am- you giggled through your sobs- I look so stupid right now, I bet I sound even more stupid everytime I annoy you with my stupid fucking feelings"

No you don't, he loves you, you are his everything, he wanted to say

"But I'm trying to change i promise.... I haven't been keeping track of our anniversaries anymore since the last time you told me it was childish and you had better things to do with your time"

jake closed his eyes and let a single tear fall down his cheek, god he regretted it everyday, he regretted opening his stupid mouth and talking to you that way every damn day. He had wished you would forget about it after he apologized to you but of course you haven't. That kind of hurt cannot be forgotten so easily

"It hurts but i manage... it's hard to manage tonight, I don't know why.... maybe because I can't stop expecting things to change, hoping that one day I would wake up and I'll be your priority again " You were full on hiccuping through sobs now

"God I'm so stupid and I wore this stupid fucking dress cuz I felt beautiful... not anymore tho, I don't feel beautiful when you aren't there to tell me I am..... you just matter so much to me and it kills me that I won't ever matter even half as much to you"

jake cursed and threw his phone aside while you still talked, holding his head in both hands, jake let himself cry

He let himself cry for all the times he'd hurt your self esteem so much it made you want to change, he cried for all the times he watched your smile fall cuz he couldn't be there for the stuff you wanted to do

He let himself cry for making you feel like you were less of a person just because you got excited over small things and little gestures mattered to you

He cried because he had been hurting the one person who made his life worth living, so much to the point that you had started to make yourself smaller. He had made you shrink.

"You are my first and last everything jake.. and i know you are an important person and have to hide it from the world that you have a girlfriend but i just feel like... Maybe in an effort to make everyone else believe that i don't exist, you started to believe it too.... and i don't even blame you. I've always been forgettable"

His phone dinged to signal the message had ended so he pressed play again. And again. And again. He doesn't remember how long he sat there listening to your sobs and heart wrenching pain. The pain that he had caused.

jake hadn't felt this kind of fear ever before. Not even when he had moved to a foreign country alone. He was losing his mind, dark circles under his eyes as he sat outside your apartment door. You weren't here, he knew that, he'd been coming to see you everyday but no sign of you. A locked door. That's all he was greeted with for the past 1 week.

Your phone was switched off, no calls or messages, no way of knowing how you were doing and where you were. Had you really left him for good this time? Would he never be able to hold you in his arms again? Hear your giggles and taste your sweet kisses? Was this your goodbye?

That was the thought that had him breaking down completely in his car in the middle of nowhere as he drove around looking for you aimlessly.

just once, he needed to see u once.

He wiped his tears and dialed jay's number

"I need you to do me a favor"

You missed him. You missed him so much it hurt. Were you being too harsh on him? You weren't doing it on purpose, you just didn't feel like you were capable of facing him right now, too embarrassed and feeling exposed after you sent that stupid voice note. A drunk mistake.

What if he broke up with you? What if he hated you now ?

You sobbed into your pillows in your childhood bedroom, crying yourself to sleep, imagining his arms around you, shushing you softly, telling you he loved you

God you don't even remember the last time he told you he loved you.

His knees buckled when his eyes fell on you. There you were, so fucking beautiful, so fucking tempting he had to physically stop himself from running to you and taking you in his arms. You weren't smiling and that's what made his heart clench. As long as he'd known you, you were always smiling, you were his personal little cheerleader.

"Y/n look who's here to meet you" your mother's voice made you jolt, almost dropping the antique case that you were cleaning.

And you almost dropped it again when your questioning eyes met his dark ones. Your heart started beating unbearably fast, your palms sweaty as you placed the case back on the counter with shaky hands

"you didn't tell me you had friends back in the city y/n! And such a handsome one at that- your mother cooed, wiggling her eyebrows at jake whose ears turned red - anyways, you kids talk while I bring you guys snacks" your mother said and disappeared around the corner, leaving you and the reason of your escape from the city alone. You stood there fidgeting with your fingers, the silence sitting heavy on you while you made it a point to look nowhere else except your feet.

After a few foreboding seconds which felt like hours you saw his shoes come into your line of vision, moving closer to your feet

Your hands gripped onto your skirt harshly when you felt his big hands cup both of your cheeks and move your face up to look into his eyes. His face inches from yours.

"Baby.. " he whispered and that's all you had to hear before breaking down, your vision becoming blurry and harsh sobs escaping your lungs

"God I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry sweetheart I'm so fucking sorry" His voice cooed, thumbs swiping at your cheeks to wipe your tears, kissing your cheeks and eyes to calm your heavy breathing

Your hands moved up to fist the shirt on his chest and you closed your eyes to finally let it all out, crying and sobbing your pain out, so hurt and so upset from what things had come to.

He pulled your heaving body into his arms and circled his arms so tight around you, as if afraid of losing you. You sobbed your heart out in the crook of his neck while he apologized to you, whispering countless confessions into your ears

"I love you, I love you so much baby, I'm sorry I haven't shown it to you enough" he whispered and you hiccuped in his chest, letting the hurt and disappointment wash over you, hearing him say he loved you already healing a part of you

His guilt ridden voice had you eventually giving in and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling back to stare into his eyes, small sniffles leaving your lips as u observed his tired face. Your hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into your touch, kissing your palm. You traced the heavy dark circles beneath his eyes, his irises were red rimmed and exhausted, hairs messy and uncombed

"How long since u slept?" You asked in your hoarse voice

He stared into your eyes, giddy from feeling you close again, feeling too good cuz you were back in his arms

"2 weeks" He whispered and your eyes teared up again. You knew he had been harsh on himself because of his work, he was often sick, unable to sleep or rest and then there was you and your feelings

Who cared about your stupid feelings when this man in front in front of you couldn't even get proper fucking sleep? If anything, you were the extra baggage that he had been carrying around

"I'm sorry" You whispered and his brows furrowed "baby why? "

"because I'm so inconsiderate, I'm sorry I'm so demanding and - his lips cut your rambling off mid sentence, chapped lips pressed against your plump ones and he kissed you like he had never kissed you before. Desperate hands grabbed your waist while your own tangled In his hairs, pulling him closer to you. You were both hungry. No the better word would be starved. You were starved to the point that even a little brush of skin against each other was sending your heads reeling. The kiss tasted of despair and guilt, it reeked of frustration but most of all jake kissed you like he was scared.

"Wanting to feel loved isn't a demand sweetheart, I'm sorry i haven't been there for you, I'm sorry i haven't been making you feel like you are my priority, because you are. You have no idea what you mean to me baby, you're my little heart" he whispered into your mouth and you started crying again like the crybaby that you were. You were his crybaby tho, his to console and comfort. His to love.

He kissed you again, soft pecks all over your face, whispering things that he had never told you before, he didnt like talking about his feelings this way but the moment demanded vulnerability and he could do anything for you.

You were sure your mother had heard everything by now and that's why you didn't hesitate to drag jake into your childhood bedroom. The both of you snuggled in your bed and talked about your feelings for hours. Tears were shed on both sides but it was comforting in a sense, to clear everything up and come clean about what you both needed

"Will you wear that dress for me again? When we get home?" he asked, his fingers tracing patterns into your waist and you pouted at him

"you've lost that privilege" You teased , slapping his chest lightly

He stared deeply into your eyes, his gaze so serious it made your own smile drop

"I'd do anything to gain that privilege again, to see you look so beautiful for me,so fucking pretty for me" he whispered and you blushed, your head reeling from his words

"I'll wear it" You mumbled shyly, god you were weak for this man

He leaned into you to bite your cheek

"Yeah? you'd let me take it off you too won't you? Unwrap you like a present, just for me? "

You blushed harder, ears burning up, your fists hitting against his chest

"Pervert" you whispered and he chuckled, his hands wrapping around your body to pull you closer, nose burying in the crook of your neck, leaving small sensual kisses

"Can't help it baby I'm so down bad for you" he groaned into your neck, making you flinch slightly as it tickled. His hold on your waist was tight, squeezing you desperately

"you're seriously not thinking dirty things while my mom's down the hallway right? " You asked giggling even though your cheeks were red and flushed. It had been a while since you and jake had done anything like this, since you felt wanted by him like this

jake's pants tightened uncomfortably upon hearing your giggles. God you were so sweet, there was a reason his manager had been forbidding him from seeing you

You were a distraction. You were addicting. And anyone with two eyes could see that jake was addicted to you.

He had physically recoiled when his manager had told him to chose between his idol career and you, seeing how he was willing to sneak out to meet you, risking everything and putting everyone at stake

But jake had promised he would control himself. He couldn't live without you, even the thought of you not being there made his chest constrict. So he decided to stay away from you for a while. Even though it hurt , it surely hurt less than to stay away from you forever

"I was drunk and couldn't stop thinking about you" jake whispered, coming up to move your body, laying you on your back so that he could hover over you

"so i drank more and kept drinking till I couldn't feel my fingers"

Your wide doe eyes stared up at him curiously, wondering why he was telling you this all of a sudden

He brought his palm up to your face, stroking your cheek by the back of his hand, caressing you like he loved you

"I didn't forget about your award sweetheart, I was too drunk to remember anything at all, woke up hungover the next evening and i realized what I had done. In an effort to forget about you, I forgot everything else as well. I know it's not an excuse but i just need to tell you" He said, his expression guilty and distraught

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to yourself

"Why were you trying to forget about me? Why not just come see me? or call me? "

Your innocent questioning eyes made jake close his eyes in impending sorrow. He leaned down and kissed u deeply, tasting your hot mouth to stabilize himself before pulling back and telling you everything.

You layed wide wake, stroking your fingers through jake's hair as he slept soundly snuggled into your chest. His soft snores and breath hitting your clavicle.

Honestly you weren't surprised that his manager had done such a thing. You weren't a fool, you noticed the hostile stares he would shoot your way everytime you went over to the boys' dorms or practice sessions. His eyes were always set on you in a glaring warning, as if to say, "you're not welcome here"

You hated that you understood where he was coming from. Being responsible for an entire group's reputation must be hard and your presence only made it harder.

You sighed and hugged jake's head closer to you, burying your nose in his hairs, breathing him in after so long. His hands were around your waist, grip so tight even in his sleep, it made you feel safe and so loved. This was all you wanted. Him in your arms, was that really too much to ask for?

You were still awake about two hours later, sleep just wouldn't come to you, head filled with so many thoughts. You tried slipping out from his grip to fetch water but his strong hands were pulling your body back into him

"Hmm don't go" He mumbled, his voice heavy and sleep ridden, eyes still closed but brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and kissed his nose, trying to slip again when his eyes opened wide, a gasp escaped your lips when he was flipping you over, resting his body over yours, nibbling on your ear

"I said don't fucking go" he growled and the sound had you rubbing your thighs together, hands coming up to rest against his shoulders

"I-i was just thirsty" you whispered and he hummed into your skin, nibbling on your ear again, sucking your lobe into his mouth making you whine softly

"I'm thirsty too" he whispered in your ear, his hands moving down to grab your thighs and parting them so he could settle his crotch against your middle, making you feel how hard he was in his jeans

"so fucking thirsty baby" He groaned and thrusted against you, a harsh gasp left your lips at his actions

"J-jake not here" you whispered but even you didn't believe your words, pussy starting to drip just from the way his voice sounded so husky and deep in your ear. His hands groped your lower body, taking a handful of your ass as he issued another thrust against you

Before you could tell him to stop again, he was pulling back, standing on his knees between your legs while he hastily undid his belt and jeans

"I'm sorry sweetheart I just can't wait any fucking longer, I need to put it in" he panted, you squirmed underneath him, watching how he was quick to pull his pants down his legs, his boxers coming off along with them, hanging around his thighs

He didn't bother taking his clothes all the way off, desperate hands reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs

Your breathing was heavy, eyes pivoted to the hard dick that hung between his legs, arousal gushing down your slit when he rubbed a finger against your hole while fisting his own dick a few times "such a pretty fucking pussy"

"jake please" you moaned and he cursed, coming up to capture your lips into his own while he settled between your legs, rubbing his cock against your leaking cunt, rubbing it up and down, bumping against your engorged clit, making you moan into his mouth that was busy licking into yours

The feeling of being so close to each other after so long had you feeling hot and heavy

"Yeah baby? you want it?" he demanded, eyes dark and lust ridden as he gazed into your teary ones

"Y-yes please" you mumbled and jake clenched his jaw. Fuck. You were sweeter than candy and he couldn't control himself when it came to you

He rested his forehead against yours, looking down to stare at how his dick entered your warm sex, hips grinding to slide in smoother and deeper. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan upon the feeling of him inside of you after so long "baby f-fuck" he groaned into your mouth, feeling his resolve to go soft on you fading away at the way your tight walls were clenching around him

"you're sucking me in baby, so tight"

His words made your hips twitch. The indication enough for him to start moving in you. Your nails dug into his shoulders from above his shirt that he still wore as his hips started snapping against yours, his balls smacking filthily against your ass

His hot moans were making you wetter, drool escaping your mouth at the pleasure

"ts so good baby I fucking missed this" he pants, his hands groping your body mercilessly as he kept moving in and out of your leaking pussy

He licked the drool escaping your lips, sticking his tongue inside your hot mouth, licking into it with urgency while he moved your legs upwards, pressing your body in a mating press, increasing his pace

Harsh animalistic thrusts were sending your body in a ripple, making you move back and forth as he moved above you, sending the headboard of the bed slamming against the wall, the sex getting louder, messier

"Yeah, yeah, fuck yeah" he insinuated with every grind of his hips into you, meshing your lower bodies together to create a friction so insane it had you moaning his name in a chant, mind numbing pleasure clouding your senses

You both shared open mouth kisses, sucking on each other's tongue lewdly, uncaring of how messy it was, you loved messy

His hands moved up to hold onto the headboard above your head as he moved his hips deeper into yours, letting your legs fall around his hips, wrapping around his waist, your ankles digging into his ass to keep him buried deep inside of your warm cunt

"Wanted to make love to you but look what you fucking do to me" he groaned into your mouth, occasionally licking into it and digging his teeth into your lower lip, making you whine and moan in extreme pleasure. His dick made out with your cervix, bumping pleasurably into your g spot, penetrating your womb mercilessly

The sound of the headboard slamming was getting louder, bed creaked beneath your writhing bodies, the sweat on your naked bodies making it easier to slide against each other

Your moans were getting louder as his silent curses reached a fever pitch, a bunch of "Umhhnshit baby" and "so good" s falling from his lips, hips getting sloppier, pistoning in and out of you in a frenzy, uncaring of how your mother could probably hear you get pounded into the sheets

"s-so close jake I'm so close" you moaned and his hips got faster, his hand sneaking down to rub against your clit to make u reach your high faster. He couldn't wait to feel you gushing around his cock "that's right baby, make a fucking mess on me yeah?" he groaned, biting your lower lip and rubbing harshly against you, his hips never faltering, thrusting and thrusting until you were cumming all over his dick with a scream of his name

The moan was so pornographic it had him cumming within minutes of feeling the delicious clench of your cunt around his aching cock, filling you up to the brim, harsh pants escaping his lips as he used your pussy to ride his orgasm, eyes rolling back in pleasure. Sighs of satisfaction filled the empty space between your mouths

Harsh breaths were shared as you both came down from your highs, sharing sweet kisses and confessions, a string of "I love you" s falling from his lips while his palms caressed your body softly, rubbing against the parts where he'd grabbed you harshly

"Don't you need to go back? what will your manager do if he finds out you're here with me?" you asked some time later, his dick was still in you, feeling too good to cockwarm him just like this

He kissed you softly and shook his head "Told jay to take care of it. I honestly couldn't care less baby I just need you"

You bit your lower lip, getting shy now that he was being so sweet to you, not used to have him say such things to you casually "But u should care jake, you can't just risk your career for me"

"I could do anything for you. Nothing matters if you're not there, I hope you know that sweetheart" he whispered in your mouth before kissing you deeply again. "I hope you also know how proud of you I am my pretty little artist, no one else deserved that award more than you baby"

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and kissed him back, heart feeling full and all insecurities fading away at his words, cheeks flaming red from his compliments, unable to hide the smile overtaking your face

"I love you" you whispered, as if saying them any louder would take the meaning of the words away

"Yeah? Say that again baby" He whispered back and you giggled shyly, burying your face in the crook of his neck where you repeated the words again

He chuckled and kissed the side of your head adoringly "I love you so much too baby, and I'm going to show it to you every waking moment, I'm gonna love on you till you're begging me to stop"

You curled your body further into him at his words, heart feeling giddy after a very long time. Hoping that this feeling would last forever.

[iluvapplesxh]

hii!! if ur comfortable can u do billie x f!reader who sh’s? like a comfort fic maybe. ive been getting alot of urges to sh after being clean for a long time and i kinda just need this rn

⧽⧽baby, don't cut⧼⧼

❀ pair: billie eilish x fem!reader

✰ summary: The bliss, the lightness of every single gush of blood felt more and more freeing and you thought it would be for the best to finally make your mind shut off, but one person is always there, helping you, reminding you that you're not alone and that you're worth it. Worth living this life even if it's hard.

✯ warnings: self harm, blood, crying, angst, comfort, fluff, !ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE!

✒ a/n: I legit teared up writing this...| also this is kind of rushed but I just didn't really know what to write. so sorry, anon!

A long, sickeningly satisfied sigh left you. Your back was against the wall, the cool surface palpable through your clothes against your skin. Your knees were pulled up against your chest, ankles pressed tightly against each other. Your arm was resting on top of your knees, the deep red substance seeping onto your pyjama pants, painting them that beautifully crimson colour.

The tears which were once streaming down your face now dried up, red puffy eyes tracing the harsh, deep lines on the soft flesh of the underside of your forearm, the stinging pain was dulling by each passing moment. 

The weight which was once pushing harshly against your chest, making it hard to breathe, now faded. Your heart calmed from its previous fast beating and you didn’t know if it was because of the way the blood was flowing down your arm, or because of that disgustingly amazing feeling, but your tears have stopped too a while ago.

It felt incredibly freeing, uplifting. Like the overwhelming feelings of the day have been washed away. All those thoughts that told you, you needed this. You had to do it. You deserved it. They were now quiet and your breaths weren’t as ragged, your lungs filling with air completely before it flowed out slowly.

Yeah, this was what you deserved. This was what you needed to feel okay….

But those thoughts fought a harsh battle every time your gaze wandered around your room and your eyes locked on the framed photo propped up on your nightstand. A photo of your amazing girlfriend. She was always so sweet. Asking if you were okay even after you’ve reassured her 10 times throughout the day. Now she was the one thing you didn’t  deserve. So why did she stay? Why, when all you do is push her away when your mind becomes too much and you feel like you can’t breathe without that sweet relief of the blade sliding across your already torn skin. It felt even more painful every time it glided over a fresher cut and that just made every breath intake that much clearer. 

Why?

And although you felt like there was absolutely no reason for her to be with you, you couldn’t bear the mere thought of her leaving you finally. The possible look on her face if she saw under your sleeves. It made you cry harder every time you thought about it at the wrong time and you didn’t want her to leave. You needed her. She was the only reason you didn’t press the blade down any harder, the reason you didn’t drown yourself in your medicine cabinet. She was the reason that you had rushed to the medical supplies in your bedroom when your blade hit that vein and then when the ambulance arrived you told them it was an accident. And when she asked about it you just told her the same. She was the reason you were alive.

But even if she was, you couldn’t just stop. No, you needed it like air in your lungs. 

With every hug from her, every squeeze she gave your hand when she’d hold it, every kiss of her soft lips on yours, life was breathed back into your soul until those damn thoughts. Your fucking head pushed it out time and time again and it made you sick.

You just wanted to love her.

You just wanted her to stay, to love you, to hold you when your ears rang and your eyes burned with tears. 

But you couldn’t anymore. Your lungs felt heavy again by the time you’d cleaned yourself up and then you started again, and again and again until you passed out for hours.

That also must be the reason for your blurry vision right now. Or for the sweat littering on your forehead as the back of your head leaned back against the wall. 

The love, the need to stay seemed to slip farther away just like the blade held in your other hand, falling against the floor with the quietest thud. But even though your knees soon stretched out, your arm falling to your side, you felt like you were floating. It felt like you were finally done with all of this. All these fucking problems and thoughts and you. 

And maybe it was due to the dull thumping of your heart in your ears, or your brain slipping in and out of consciousness that you didn’t hear the phone thrown on your bed ring. But it was, and the screen was flashing, lit up with a photo of Billie smiling at the camera. It rang over and over again but you didn’t hear it, not when your body went numb and your senses were duller than that first blade in your drawers under your clothes.

It was when you felt a soft, hurried touch on your cheek that you came back to your senses once more, eyes still slightly blurry and you could feel the stinging of your unwashed cuts on your arms. 

“Baby? Baby, look at me, please” 

Billie’s voice was soft but you could hear the strain in it, the slight crack in it when the nickname rolled off her tongue. You heard a sob rip through her chest and your vision cleared, eyes meeting hers.

“Oh thank God” Billie leaped forward, cupping your face with her trembling hands as she helped you sit up. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Help is on the way, okay? I’m here”  Tears clouded her own vision and her chest felt awfully tight.

You moved slightly, hand reaching out to her but she stopped you with a shake of her head. And for a brief moment her blue eyes snapped away from yours and raked over your body, the blood on your clothes, almost dried, but when her gaze fell onto your arm, another sob escaped her and she looked away, one of her hands leaving your cheeks to slap against her mouth.

Your throat felt tight with guilt, your heart feeling like it was being squeezed tightly as you watched the one tinge of hope in your life sob in front of you and when you finally muttered out some words, your voice was painfully hoarse.

“I’m-...I’m sorry, baby-..” Your eyes filled with tears and your head shook. “I didn’t–” You took in a deep, shaky breath as your own gaze averted from her tear stained face. “I tried to–...I’m sorry”

Billie quickly looked back at you and shook her head, turning your head to look back at her. “Sh, sh…I don’t need an explanation. I just…–” She swallowed around the lump in her throat, tears still rimming her eyes. “I don’t know how I didn’t fucking notice” Frustration laced her voice and she pulled back.

It obviously hurt her. 

When she had come over to you in worry after you didn’t answer her calls, she didn’t even think about this. And when she barged into your bedroom to see you lying against the floor by the wall, the deep red coating your shirt, it made her whole being freeze with harsh flashbacks. Her breathing had grown faster and she had muttered a string of ‘no’s as her feet brought her closer to you. She had fallen to her knees, one of her hands scrambling for her phone to call help as the other desperately used a paper tissue to dry up your gushing arm.

“Don’t move, baby.” Billie said, her voice quiet. “I’m here now.” She leaned forward, pressing her lips against your forehead while tears fell on her cheeks.

–

The two of you didn’t exchange any words when the ambulance arrived and took you away. Nor when you were lying on the hospital bed, being kept for the amount of blood that has left your body.

It made you angry and sad when she’d left, saying that she needed to collect herself. You knew she needed that. She shouldn’t have had to see you like that but fuck you didn’t want her to leave. God knows if she’ll come back. And your eyes filled with tears again as you were lying there, watching her leave that room with soft hiccups leaving her throat.

You hurt her. You made her leave just like you were afraid to do so and your chest felt tight, breathing becoming a problem. The doctors had come in quickly, calming your breathing with some kind of medicine and you wish it was Billie’s hand caressing your hair as your eyes closed and your body fell asleep. The deep green eyes of the nurse trying to calm you missed that warmth which hers held and even though deep down you knew that all of this didn’t mean she was leaving for good. But it felt so much like it.

–

About 24 hours later, you were let home, but she never came back. 

You were now sitting on the couch of your home, an emotionless expression on your face as your bandaged up arm rested on  your lap.Your head was a mess once more and your hands twitched the slightest bed, your eyes darting towards the door of your bedroom from time to time.

The sudden sound of your doorbell ringing was what snapped you out of the suffocating depths of your own mind and you mindlessly stood, walking towards the door and unlocking it before pulling it open. When the door was fully open, you didn’t have a chance to look up before your body was engulfed by a warmer one, arms wrapping around you tightly while your head was pulled against a shoulder and when you breathed in her familiar scent, your body relaxed. Your own arms circled her torso while you turned your head, burying your face into her shoulder with a deep breath.

“I’m sorry I left.” Billie whispered softly, leaning her cheek against your head.

“No-...I understand…” You mumbled onto her hoodie, palms spreading flat against her back.

Billie swallowed harshly and pulled back, guiding you back inside your home as the door closed behind her and she lifted a hand, placing her palm against your cheek. “Are you okay?” 

The question which you usually simply and swiftly answered with a ‘yes’ made you pause this time before you shook your head, throat tightening up. “N–...No” Your eyes welled with tears.

Billie’s heart clenched in her chest and she took a deep breath in, her thumb caressing your skin gently. “I know. I know, baby” She sighed and swallowed harshly again. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice” Her other hand reached out, she placed it hesitantly on your bandaged arm. 

A soft gasp of air filled your lungs and your teeth dipped into the flesh of your bottom lip. “I thought you left…” You whispered, eyes wandering away from hers.

Billie’s eyes watered and she nodded. “I know, I’m sorry” She whispered back.

“I don’t want you to leave. Please” Your voice cracked brokenly as your eyes found hers again.

She took a step closer, her hand on your cheek going behind your head. Billie’s head shook rapidly. “I won’t,  won’t, baby. I promise. I’m here, I’m staying” She gently pulled you close to her, pressing her lips onto the top of your head. “I’m going to help you, okay? We’ll get through this together” She murmured against your hair before you pulled back and your eyes met. The softness in her blue seas made your mind ease up the smallest bit and then her soft lips slotted against yours tenderly. The kiss was full of emotions, sadness, anger, guilt. 

“I won’t let you hurt yourself again” She whispered against your lips, and her words were like another promise. A promise that everything is so wrong right now, but she’s here and she’s going to make everything good again. That it may seem like the darkness of your mind was going to consume you and you were gonna slip up, and maybe you were going to, but even then, she’ll help you go straight. She’ll be there when it feels like everything around you is slowly falling apart and she’ll whisper in your ear that it’s okay and she’s here. 

She saved your life again and again, with or without trying and she will continue to do so until you feel like you are ready to fully live again.

✒ a/n: hey, anon, I just really hope that you'll be able to hold on with the help of this and if not I want you to know that whatever or whoever you think is worth enough to give it up is not worth it and you'll get through it, even if it's not going to be easy.

[muniimyg]

7: the yes or no // series m.list

note: most patient reader award goes to u !!! 🥹 literally from my car accident to my month long trip to these past adjustments weeks ,, it’s been an absolute pleasure for me to write and conclude this couple (they have 1 drabble left before full completion) otherwise thank u all for ur love n support w this fic ,, mwah 🤍

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @defzcl @maryy1300 @whoa-jo @taetaecatboy @jksusawife @un06 @firesighgirl @rrosiitas @butterymin @parkinglot-nights @musicjournalsjdb @kissyfacekoo @jkslvsnella @vampcharxter @bloopkook @somehowukook @bbystarcandykoo

//

"J-Jungkook? Wha—”

“Sorry,” Hobi rushes from his car to Jungkook’s side, steadying his poor balance and looking at you with pleading eyes. “I texted and called you, but you didn’t answer—I had no choice.”

“It’s 2AM,” you point out, opening your arms for Jungkook, who crashes into you quickly. You wrap your arms around him as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His cheeks are warm against your skin. He breathes you in, completely immersed in your scent. He murmurs your name, and you hush him, “I’m here. You okay, Jungkook?”

Jungkook hums in response.

In disbelief, you feel a bit stressed with this whole situation. Here you are: standing outside your apartment in pajamas and bunny slippers, holding a very drunk Jungkook. It’s a starless night, with only the lamp posts and your bedroom window light on. Despite the dim light, you see Jungkook as if he were daylight.

Before you can get more context, Jungkook suddenly coughs. You pat his back to ease it. When his coughing fit settles, you turn to Hobi. “What happened?”

Hobi gives you an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look. Hurriedly, he takes out his keys and locks his car, turning back to you with a rather pissed-off expression. “Hmmm… I’m not too sure… Let’s ask your boyfriend-not-boyfriend, shall we?”

“Hobi…”

“He was trying to leave,” Hobi sighs, running a hand through his hair. He recalls what happened perfectly, having sobered up a while ago. “I told him to stay, but he wanted to go home and sleep so he could come over first thing in the morning. He said you two were going to work things out and end the yes-or-no bullshit. So, we celebrated, and… he was really happy, ___. I didn’t want to ruin that for him. I mean, how could I?”

“Yeah, okay... But Hobi, he can barely stand up—”

“What was I supposed to do?” Hobi cries, frustrated. “He refused to go home unless we came to you first. Trust me, I drove him home and did three rounds around your neighbourhood to get him to fall asleep or throw up—he didn’t care. The minute he saw your apartment, he got out of the car. He wants you, and he’s so stubborn—seriously, ___… What was I supposed to do?”

“Okay, okay. I'm sorry,” you apologize gently. Hobi takes it as a sign to take a breath. He does so, and you watch his expression relax. “It’s been a long night for you. You did everything just fine; this wasn’t in your control. I’m sorry you got roped into this.”

Hobi shakes his head. “N-no, sorry about that. I just… God, he’s so in love with you it pisses me off. He’s already just as annoying as they come, but now it’s like triple when he’s lovesick like this… And you… You’re one of my favourites in this life. I wasn’t stuck in the middle or anything, but I also hate watching things fall apart between you two—”

“Nothing is falling apart,” you console him. “Only felt like it ‘cause he’s dramatic.”

For the first time throughout this stressful night, Hobi cracks a smile and lets out a tired laugh.

“You two are gonna end up together, right?”

His question catches you off guard.

As you hold Jungkook, you search for words but are at a loss. There aren’t enough words to make an excuse. There aren’t enough words to confess either. So, you stand there and hold Jungkook tighter. Hobi notices and smiles softly.

“Good.” … Is all he says.

It’s all he has to say.

This time, a light laugh escapes your lips as you realize how ridiculous all of this is at 2AM. Hobi doesn’t know why, but he joins your laughter.

With that, a moment passes, and it feels light between you two. Not that it was ever heavy or tense, but it finally felt okay. Over the past few days of you avoiding Jungkook, Hobi tried to understand you and Jungkook’s lifeless mannerisms. It confused Hobi. You’re a great person—one of the best—but he had never seen love captivate Jungkook like this. Ultimately, Hobi was torn… But he did his best and supported you both.

At the end of the day, he wasn’t responsible for your relationship with Jungkook. He wanted you two to be together (which is why he brought up the fact that he had a crush on you in the first place), but he wanted it to happen naturally. He roots for you two, and despite all the shenanigans, he was glad to be here.

“You okay with that parking spot?"

Hobi nods, snapping out of his thoughts. “Yeah. I mean, maybe we should get going… It’s late, and he got what he wanted. We’ll head home—”

“Sleep here,” you command. There’s no way you’re letting Hobi drive tipsy and emotionally exhausted. He genuinely looks like he’s been through it, and Jungkook is in no state to walk more than the last three steps he took towards you. “I’ll set up a bed for you and Jungkook in the living room.”

Hobi accepts, surrendering to his exhaustion.

“Can you—”

“Yeah, I got it,” Hobi reaches out as you pull away from Jungkook. Thankfully, Jungkook doesn’t stumble or put up a fight. As you part from his body, you take a good look at him. His cheeks are flushed, and his eyes flutter closed. They’re a little puffy, making you wonder if he cried along the way. You hate that he probably did. Then, you notice his slumpy posture. He can’t even stand up straight, and something about him practically collapsing into your arms tugs at your heartstrings more than you could have ever imagined.

Hobi remembers he has extra clothes in his car. He usually keeps them there for party nights when he doesn’t make it home. Quickly excusing himself, he leaves Jungkook to fall asleep on your couch. When he comes back up, he asks if he can use your shower and changes.

As Hobi does that, you rush to set up his bed on the floor. When you finish, you lift Jungkook’s head to place a pillow underneath. As he stirs in his sleep, you adjust his body so he lies on his side in case he throws up. His body follows but feels a little too warm for your liking.

“Jungkook?” you attempt to wake him up. “Can you lift your arms? You’re sweating too much.”

“Hmmm?” he coos. “___?”

You push his hair back and watch as his eyes flicker open. “Y-yeah. It’s me. Come on, bebu. Let’s take your shirt off—”

Jungkook giggles.

“Ohh,” he smirks sleepily, “you want me so bad, huh?”

You gulp. “Mhmm.. Come on, bebu. Lift your arms for me—”

“Say it first.”

You freeze.

Jungkook groans, hating the pause. “I t-thought we were done fighting? Come on, bebu. Say it. Say it, please. Say—”

“Want you so bad, Jungkook,” you interrupt him. “I want you.”

Jungkook chuckles, unable to hide how his heart skips a beat.

“So bad?”

“So bad.”

With that, he happily obliges. He lifts his arms (lazily) and you take off his shirt. His chest is exposed, and his skin glows. For some reason, your throat goes dry and—what the fuck.

Your eyes trail to his bare arm. Written and smudged, it reads; if piss drunk please return to ___ (my girlfriend) <3

You stare in disbelief. Your head feels light and for some odd reason, you’re embarrassed. He walked around the party like this? He’s literally such a weirdo.

“Disgusting,” Hobi whines, standing with wet hair and a towel around his neck. You turn to him, gulping at the state he caught you and Jungkook in. “Do I have to stay with him? Like what if you two have morning sex? Aren’t you a virgin? Pretty sure he has condoms in his wallet like a pathetic high schooler—”

“Oh my god!” you throw a pillow at him. He dodges it and laughs at you. Completely ignoring his claims, he rolls his eyes at you.

“Can’t I just sleep in your room—”

You huff, “Fine. Go! You did your part anyway.”

Hobi waves his hand, mumbling goodnight to you two. He mutters some other things you can’t make out but it doesn’t matter.

Turning back to Jungkook, you realize he’s asleep again. You pick up from where you left off. Reaching for the blanket, you tuck him in and set his shirt aside. Then, you get up, lock your door, and turn off the lights. As you make your way back to the floor, you take a deep breath and try to process everything.

It’s been a hectic hour or so… You fear the morning might be worse.

How is everything going to unfold? Should you talk things over breakfast? Do you pretend like nothing happened and see what he initiates? You have no idea.

Truth be told, the ‘break’ was unintentional. The avoiding wasn’t meant to be this big of a deal… It’s only been a few days too! But then again… Maybe you simply underestimated Jungkook’s feelings for you. He’s always been confident and sly, so you never thought he’d be this sensitive and clingy over you. It’s surprising in a nice way… It feels like you know him better.

That’s what you’ve been wanting from him anyway… Honesty. Yet, with this state… Exactly how much more of it could you bear? Him as this mess is the reality of how much you impact his life. It’s crazy, isn’t it? Like, wasn’t this… Just a crush? Wasn’t this just a simple nonchalant confession? How did we get here? How did love bloom amid something so childlike and lighthearted?

Is that what it is?

The feeling of your stomach turning and twisting at the sight of him? The feeling of frustration and embarrassment when it feels like you want more of him and you’re too shy to ask for it? And it’s stupid, isn’t it? Because if we’re being honest; he would give you anything.

As you make yourself comfortable, you’re taken by surprise as Jungkook shuffles and gets off the couch. He joins you on the floor, wrapping his arms and legs around your body. Just like earlier, he buries himself in the crook of your neck. Although you’re taken aback, you don’t hesitate to hold him.

Your fingers find their way to his hair while your other hand rubs circles on his bare back. Jungkook can’t help but feel electricity run throughout his body with every touch.

“Sorry I drank so much,” he croaks, trying his best to get his words out. “Sorry I smell like shit.”

“It’s okay,” you comfort him. “Do you want me to get you some water—”

“Don’t move,” he cries. “Please...”

“Okay,” You relax your body. He does the same. “I’m here.”

A moment passes.

“I’m sorry I kept bothering you. Texting and calling… Coming over like this…”

“Jungkook—”

Sniffing, he mumbles, “and sorry I took your spot and kissed you.”

“Seriously, don’t—”

Yet, ever so clearly he apologizes: “Sorry almond pocky is better than strawberry.”

His apology earns a soft laugh from you. It escapes your lips and Jungkook swears he hears angels singing.

“The only time strawberry was better than almond was when I kissed you. You tasted like strawberries. I liked it. Best kiss of my fucking—”

“Oh my god!” You pull away and cover his mouth with your hand. “I know. You told Mingyu the same thing, right?”

He stays still, boba eyes focused on you.

When you take your hand off his mouth, he blinks at you. “Fuck Mingyu.”

“Shhh,” you hush him.

Then, he continues. “Sorry for lying and tricking you before.”

You shrug. “Hey, it worked. I caught feelings for you.”

“Real ones?”

“Real ones.”

“... Like you want me so bad?”

“Mhmm,” you play along. “Like super real bad.”

Then, Jungkook’s goofy grin twitches.

“Sorry I’m so stupid about all of this.”

“Me too,” you hurry to say. “I’ve been stupid about it too. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Jungkook mumbles, acting like it’s no big deal. “Hot chicks are never wrong.”

“Jungkook!” you laugh, hitting his chest. He catches your hand and holds it still. Then, he intertwines your fingers together.

“I’m so drunk,” he confesses with a tired tone. “… ___? Are you gonna break up with me in the morning?”

You wrinkle your nose at him. “Should I? Did you flirt with a pretty girl at the party?”

“Fuck no.”

You giggle at his harshness. Poking his cheek, you prop up on your elbows. “That’s a relief… But did you really have to make things so hard for Hobi?”

Jungkook huffs.

“I’m not stubborn,” he claims. “I j-just… I miss y-you, ___.”

Your heart sinks.

“I miss you too.”

“Good.”

“Good…” you yawn, “... Night. Go to sleep, bebu. We can talk more in the morning—”

Jungkook cups your jaw and kisses you. It’s not needy, but it’s gentle and deep. He means it. He kisses you and you kiss him back. How could you not? Being so close to him again makes your heart flutter. Just as he’s about to get carried away, he pulls away.

“Sorry for kissing you.”

You touch your lips. “It’s okay.”

“Don’t break up with me tomorrow, o-okay?”

You snicker at him as he wraps himself around you again.

“Okay,” you fold. “I won’t.”

When you wake up, Hobi is cooking pancakes. 

“Good morning,” he yawns, dancing a little as he flips the pancakes.

Half awake, you ask, “Where’s Jungkook?”

You can only assume he left to get ready and be more presentable before your talk. That or he’s running away from you… But you doubt that. 

Hobi glares at you, frying pan in hand and all. 

“I’m literally cooking you breakfast and you’re asking where your boyfriend-not-boyfriend is?”

You stretch and get up. Folding and tidying the makeshift bed up, you casually ask if Jungkook ate before he left.

Hobi sighs, flipping pancakes. “You’re literally obsessed with him…”

Sneaking up behind him, you poke his sides. He flinches and scolds you not to do that while he’s cooking. You laugh and steal a pancake from the pile. 

“He’s said you’d know where he is. Meet him there at 12PM.” Hobi then passes you a plate with another pancake but this time there’s cut up fruit and syrup on top. Happily, you grab the plate and take a sit at your table to eat. Hobi turns the stove off and joins you. 

Hobi takes a bite and lets his curiosity get the best of him. “Any idea of what he’s talking about?”

“I can only really think of one place.”

Jungkook struggled immensely during those few days when you two weren’t talking. Every text he sent you was met with a cold seenzone, and every call went unanswered. If he was lucky, they were declined. He made intentional visits to the library and your spot under that stupid tree daily, hoping to see you. Yet, the only time he did, you avoided him, and his heart sank lower than any ship.

If he were crazier, he would’ve confronted you and closed the space between you two as early as possible. But he wasn’t here to play; he was here to win. He was in it for the long run and thought to himself that if there was ever a time to prove he could wait and respect your boundaries—it would be now. However, it proved difficult, and although Jungkook is a strong man, his knees always go weak at the mention of your name.

He was done for.

In the waiting, he repeatedly convinced himself to love fully and pour every ounce of faith into dreams of a life with you. He couldn’t deny this felt strange. Of course, it was difficult! Being out of sync with you felt absolutely painful. All he did was toss and turn at night. When he ate, he wondered if you were eating too and who you were eating with. He hoped you were eating well.

God, he was dramatic.

He felt like he was falling apart. Why couldn’t he just figure this out? Was he supposed to apologize? For what? What happened between you two was a mere conversation. Suddenly, after you got your little confession off your chest, you hurried Jungkook out of your place and turned off your phone. He stood outside, confused and completely smitten.

You truly were the most surprising thing to have ever happened to him.

On the other hand, you couldn’t believe how much of your heart you had laid out to him. You’d never admitted any of those things out loud, and to do so for the first time—in front of him—oh my god. You had lost your mind.

You were done for.

Yet, maybe that’s what it takes to find love. To get so lost in it and then to suddenly find it in his presence—it’s indescribable.

When the clock struck 12, the library doors opened, and Jungkook held his breath.

He heard your footsteps getting closer and closer, and his heart raced faster and faster. He had showered for 30 minutes to make sure he was the exact opposite of last night… Yet at this rate, his sweaty palms made him think he needed another 30 minutes… But this couldn’t wait. This was happening now.

Finally.

When you walk in, Jungkook’s gaze softens.

His heart lightens and feels so much relief. You look like an absolute angel walking towards him. He’s in heaven, isn’t he?

Or maybe you are.

The table is covered in sunset colour schemed flowers, each in different vases and spread out. There are twinkling fairy lights in between the spaces. It’s beautiful and romantic—you might cry. Not to mention, he’s also holding a bouquet for you.

It’s perfect.

He’s perfect.

Your hair is perfectly curled, and you’re wearing a white corset dress that made him feel things he shouldn’t focus on. Truth be told, he looks just as good. He’s wearing a linen white button-up short sleeve and slacks that looked so good on him. His hair was even freshly cut (God bless)! Maybe it was your delusion, but you swear you see butterflies flying around him.

“W-wow,” he stutters, taking a step towards you. He looks at you in awe. Your lips curve into a smile, and Jungkook put his hand on top of his heart. “__, I have no words. You’re divine.”

“You got a haircut?” you tease him, extending your hand to ruffle his hair. “Handsome as always.”

He smiles shyly, putting the bouquet down. “Had to. Gotta look irresistible so you don’t dump me.”

You laugh, suddenly feeling nervous about everything. This was all so real… What were you even supposed to do? You couldn’t even differentiate if it felt awkward or if this was just new.

“H-hey,” you clear your throat. “Why is the library empty?”

He gulps. “I kinda… Told everyone at the party I was gonna make this grand gesture here… Pulled some strings with some people and was able to reserve the library privately for us. I mean, at least for an hour—”

“Y-you did what?”

“It’s not that big of a deal—d-don’t think about it too much. Here,” Jungkook offers you his hand. “Come here. I wanna show you something.”

You take his hand and follow him. He walks you two to the corner of the table and kneels. You did the same. He smiles and pats the edge of the table.

“What is this?” you ask.

Jungkook sighs, pretending to be disappointed in you. “You don’t remember?”

You shake your head. “Am I supposed to?”

Jungkook holds your hands and squeezes them. “This was our first moment.”

Your eyebrows furrow together, not knowing what he meant by that. Then, he smiles and explains it to you.

“You dropped your phone because you were surprised at how close I was to you. You bumped your head first, and it was the first time I looked at you the way I do now. I know it because it was the first time I felt what I feel for you now. Then, I bumped my head, and you rubbed my head, leaned in towards me, and that was it.”

“Oh,” you say softly, trying to recall that day. Your eyes lit up when you did. “Oh yeah! Wow, that was ages ago.”

“It was…”

A silence falls upon you two. It wasn’t heavy or awkward. It set the tone. It was perfect.

“Have you liked me for that long?” You ask him rather shy.

“Yeah,” Jungkook answers confidently. “___?”

“Yes?”

He then leans forward and tilts his head. “I’ve been ruining myself… Thinking of ways to give you the grand gesture you deserve. Something good enough to sum up how life-changing and utterly perfect you are to me… How to make you feel like you’re my whole world and for you to—I d-don’t know… I can’t—I can’t think straight. I’ve written drafts for this and I’ve rehearsed every possible line. I couldn’t get anything right, and it took me so long to realize something… To give you what you deserve is to give you my heart. To let you have it and be the man that’s good enough for you to want it… I think I did it, right? I’ve given it to you. Over and over again, and I’d do it over and over again because I can’t fathom that you’ve accepted it. Like you’ve fallen for me like I wished for you to… All you wanted was honesty, and so I need you to know that beneath all the deceit and this confidence is my heart, waiting and loving you this entire time. It’s been honest even when I’m not… And I… I’m changing. I’m an honest man, ___… And as an honest man, I need to confess one thing…”

“Jungkook—”

A beat.

“I am honestly so in love with you.”

You hold your breath.

“So, please don’t dump me,” he chuckles. “Can I please be your boyfriend? I want more time with you. I want you to love me too—”

“I already do,” you can’t help but to interrupt him. “I know I haven’t done everything perfectly either and as much as I appreciate you wanting to do better—I also need to do better. So count me in, bebu. Let’s get it right… Let’s fall in love so deeply I have no choice but to fight for it, to be brave for it, and to accept it… For you, I will.”

Jungkook leans in and cups your cheeks. He kisses you for the first time as your boyfriend. You kiss him just as sweet and deep—nothing is better than this.

epilogue

Though there were still things you two continue to work on and discuss over time, that moment was perfect. It aches, really. To remember how young and confusing love is… But to also laugh with the love of your life and feel butterflies for the first time is something you wish for everyone.

Now these 7 moments are mere fleeting memories. Yet, they still feel so warm and familiar to you. They bring you so much joy and nostalgia. They remind you of the goodness of each other’s company and hearts are (which was important and useful for every couch-sleeping fight that came your way).

It’s so special to see how it all unfolded… How oblivious love can be sometimes. How it gets cold and caught in lies just to please.. How truth reveals itself and has layers of jealousy and forgiveness that await to be embraced. How beautiful love blooms in the midst of friendship, how being with the right person changes you, and lastly; how much more life there is to live when you love all at once.

[naturesapphic]

Heyyyy babyyy can u write a fic of dom billie giving bratty ready a spanking an then fucking us reallll good while degrading us like the little needy whore that we are

Like we been teasing her ALL day and distracting her while she’s working so she decided to take matter into her own hands

(Mommy kink/dom etc.)

Thank you love u and ur fanfics xoxo

Distraction

Dom!billie eilish x sub!fem!reader

Warnings: smut!, Dom/sub, mommy kink, spanking, strap-on, cussing

You knew you were in for it when Billie gave you that look. You were so screwed and you were excited for it. You’ve been teasing and talking back to her all day. You wore booty shorts with no underwear and you made sure Billie knew too. Billie of course knew, she’s always very observant so she saw all the little tricks and teasing you tried to sneak in. Whenever she told you something to do you would always tell her no and to fuck off. Of course she was livid but she didn’t say anything and just did it herself, waiting for the right time to punish you later.

That’s why you are naked, in the middle of the bed, sprawled out like she had told you to. It wasn’t before long that she came back inside of the bedroom with some toys in her arms. She smirked at your shocked face and placed the toys beside you. “Get on my lap.” She demanded and you shook your head no which made her more pissed. “You still wanna be a fucking brat huh?” She seethed as she grabbed you and placed you over her lap, your bare ass in front of her.

She spanked your ass twenty times before you were crying and begging her to stop. “Awww my poor pathetic baby. Your punishment is over but if you disobey me again, I’ll edge you for a full day.” She threatened and you nodded your head fast. She smirked and laid you back on the bed. Billie stood up and grabbed a purple strap on and secured it around her waist. “Since you took your punishment so well I decided to give you a reward.” She stated and you whimpered out, giving her somewhat of an answer.

Billie went on top of your body and plunged inside of you, making you cry out. “Awww my little whore cant it huh? Well this is your fucking reward and you are gonna take it like the good slut you are.” She grunted near your ear as she pounds into you. “M-mommy…” you moan out and Billie smiles at you. “Hm yes baby?” She said in a fake innocent voice. “F-feels s-so good mommy..” you babble out as you go further into sub space. “Awwww I know my pathetic baby. Gonna absolutely ruin you.” Billie says as she pounds into you harder and faster. You whimper and close your eyes tight, feeling your orgasm approaching.

“You gonna cum already slut? Fine be a whore them. Come on cum.” She demanded as she leaned down to attack your neck with her lips. You felt your stomach clench and your legs shake as you cum hard on her strap. Billie slowly pulled out of you, watching your cum spill out of your pussy. She smiles at your fucked out state and starts the aftercare on the two of you. You may be bratty at times but she always knows how to fuck it out of you.

A/n: thank you for the request and for your support anon! I hope y’all enjoyed! I’ll be posting twice for Billie for a couple of days to get these requests out so keep an eye out for them :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! :)

[slytherinshua]

CHERRY BOWS

genre. fluff. cheol as a dad. warnings. toddler/parent stuff. cheol gets jelly. pairing. husband!scoups x wife!reader. wc. 1k. request. request by @blue-jisungs: you asked for soft hours n i shall give!! it’s been in my mind for a hot while actually but i’m too busy rn to do it myself… and you’re the perfect person bc U MADE ME THINK IF TJAT 🫵🫵 jealous dad seungcheol :( ofc he loves u n ur kid but give him some attention too smh >:T and requested by anon: i love your svt as dads!! they’re all so cute and i’d like to request one for cheol! a/n. i love love love dad cheol omg :( my second dad fic for him hehe <3 hes so girl dad coded and SOOOOO ADORABLE SKDJKS I LOVE HIM!!!!

“You ate without me…?” Cheol’s sleepy mumble was the first thing you heard from him. He had tiredly trudged downstairs when he had woken up and you weren’t next to him in the bed. It was already a bad start to the day when that happened, and he was frowning and pouting and generally sulking about it by the time he found you.

He wrapped his arms around you from the back, trapping you in the middle of the living room so you couldn’t continue without giving him the attention he needed. You smiled at his clinginess and deep raspy morning voice, but scoffed at how baby-like he was in the morning. Sometimes he acted even more like a child than your actual child. 

Eunha was your now 2 year old daughter. She was adored by everyone and constantly doted on. She could be a handful at times, but only because she had started to take after your bossiness and knew exactly how to appeal to Seungcheol. If she ever wanted something, all she had to do was look at them with those big boba eyes that she got from him, and he’d be folding.

He loved her more than anything. Probably even more than you, but you were okay with it. It warmed your heart how much he cared for his daughter. He’d die for her in a heartbeat without a second of hesitation. You were learning more and more every day the love a father could hold for his children. You had expected this attitude when you married him, of course. Because you knew him and you knew how caring he was. He was so filled with love for people and the world, and you were so lucky to have him.

Starting a family had always been a dream for both of you, and Eunha’s birth had been your biggest blessing. It was challenging to take care of a toddler, but you and Cheol always did your best.

Eunha was happily playing with her toy dolls after eating breakfast— the entire living room spread with her mess. It was always a constant of cleaning her toys in the evening just for her to make a new mess the next day, but you didn’t mind. It was worth it to see her so happy, and though it could be stressful to have a messy space sometimes, her happy giggles made up for it.

“Were you playing dolls with her without me as well?” Cheol asked, the pout he was wearing somehow finding its way into his tone. You giggled and he squeezed you tighter out of jealousy. He didn’t want to admit that he missed your attention being only on him, but it was true. 

You were getting up earlier to feed Eunha and play with her in the morning. The sleepy morning cuddles that Cheol looked forward to every time he fell asleep next to you were becoming rarer and rarer and he felt bitter about the change. It just wasn’t the same with Eunha. It wasn’t worse, it was definitely better in most aspects, but the free time that he had enjoyed before was being sucked away by the little child.

“She wanted me to be the doctor.” You told him, explaining the dynamics of Eunha’s favourite game. She would be the mother to her little baby doll, and either Cheol or you would usually be the doctor.

“The bed was so cold without you…” He murmured, pushing his cheek against your neck. His skin was warm against yours and you leaned into him more, savouring the feeling.

“I’m sorry. You know that Eunha likes to get up early…” You whispered.

“She should’ve woken me up instead of you. Aren’t you tired?” 

“A bit. Eating breakfast with her was nice, though. She insisted on having strawberries with her yogurt since she had seen me eat it like that once.” You smiled. Seungcheol pouted.

“I thought I was her favourite…” He was mostly joking, of course, but slightly hurt. He had always been susceptible to jealousy. Maybe he was a little too greedy— he loved watching you and Eunha spend time together, but he also hated being left out.

Your little moment of warm embrace was interrupted after 2 minutes, a giggly Eunha running up and clinging to her father’s leg. She babbled something about her doll and wanting to get ice cream later today, which you were sure Seungcheol would indulge her in. He spoiled her too much.

You were happy to see your husband’s pout lift up into the sweetest of grins. He picked up Eunha, holding her so that she was resting on his hip. He kept one arm around you; almost if you would run away and leave him if he didn’t. Which was probably partially true since you hadn’t cleaned up from breakfast yet.

“Give daddy a kiss?” Cheol asked Eunha, giggles ensuing amongst both of them. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek cutely and you smiled. Now that Seungcheol was awake as well, the two would be inseparable for the rest of the day— especially since Cheol didn’t have any work to get to.

The morning happily proceeded with a small second breakfast and playtime. Now that your husband was being included in every activity, he was all smiles and giggles. He liked being the centre of attention; you had discovered that fact throughout the years. He was the happiest man in the world when he knew he was making his daughter happy.

Her happiness always came first, even when it relied on Seungcheol’s hair being tied up in pigtails with little cherry-coloured bows because Eunha wanted to play hairdresser. You were almost envious of how cute he looked in them. It was impossible not to love everything that Cheol did.

Along with the bows came matching sweaters with a cherry pattern for father and daughter. One look at the two and you could easily declare them the two cutest human beings in the entire world.

↳ svt taglist: @kangtaehyunzzz,, @yeonjuns-redhair,, @ddeonudepressions,, @hannahsophie0103,, @skz-minchan-enthusiast,, @shuabby1994,, @icyminghao,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @edensgardenn,, @wonwooz1,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cienlvrs,, @amara-mars

[miley1442111]

HEYY I WAS THE ONE WHO ASKED FOR THAT FIC WHERE RAFE HAD TO CHOOSE IT WAS PERFECTTTT SO MUCH MORE PERFECT THAN I WAS EXPECTING!!! THANK YOU SO MUUUUUUUCHHHH YOU SAVED MY LIKEEEE!!!!!

So... Since you saved and now im already in dept with you can I ask for another one??? Pleaseee!! If you dont like Its ok just ignore and If you feel uncomfortable IM SORRYYY.

It would be something like, Rafe gets into a fight as always and then the reader, his friend tries to break the fight and then the other person fighting Rafe says something like "YEAH LISTEN TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND/BOYFRIEND/THEYFRIEND" and like every single person on the vicinity goes dead silent because everyone know you guys like each other but didnt realized yet and EVERYONE is scared of Rafe and also both of you have a partner, whos RIGHT there and will for now on live with the knowledge that: Since Rafe and Reader met, every other relationship they would have would be the runner-up.

Maybe Rafe and Reader trying to prove everyones wrong by sticking to the partners but its undeniable how the two are good for each other, how the always serious and scary Rafe looks like a normal funny happy guy when hanging out with the Reader who also goes from a quiet apathetic person ta burning sun.

Sorry this os too long 😭😭😭😭😭

Also i typed that listening to Entombed by Deftones

Byeee love youuuuuu

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waiting game- r.cameron

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a/n: welcome back light of my life anon. ur too cool i knew u listened to deftones bc only cool people can. thank you for requesting :)

pairing: rafe cameron x fem! reader, male oc x fem! reader, rafe cameron x female oc

summary: i suggest you look at the ask

warnings: kissing, toxic relationship, rafe is a bit of a fucking prick to Ava and reader, rafe is confused and a dick, cursing, underage drinking, drinking, suggestive mentions, reader is going through it, rafe is a crybaby, violence, creepy guy (I think that's it?)

not entirely proofread

----------------------

Rafe watched as you crossed the busy dance floor, two drinks in hand. Usually, one of those would be his, he was your best friend after all. But in recent weeks, you’d been becoming friendly with a pogue named ‘Elijah’. He hated him, seriously, he did. He was a piece of shit in Rafe's eyes, and somehow that made you like him more. 

You and Rafe had been friends since you were little kids, and you’d always brought out the best in each other. When Rafe was around you, he wasn’t a lunatic with raging anger issues and a god complex, around him, you weren’t the shy, quiet girl everyone knew you to be. It worked well, and you promised each other that you’d never bullshit each other. That meant; he’d never lie to you, and that you’d always tell it to him straight. It worked, and it worked well. 

So well in fact, that people usually assumed you were dating.

Years and years of being told by your respective friends and family that you two should ‘just date and put the entire island out of its misery made the idea even less appealing, at least to you. You always wanted to do the opposite of what you were told, and that meant never even thinking of Rafe in a romantic sense. Obviously, Rafe never thought of you like that either. He didn’t think about how sweet your lips would taste, how well you two fit together, how you brought out the best in him, or how much he loved you being around. He’d never think about how good calling you ‘his girlfriend’ was when he had to fend off assholes at the bar. He’d never even mention how good it felt to know he was your first kiss, and how you were his (courtesy of you two being very drunk 15 year olds). 

He never thought about any of that. That would be weird, right?

So he stood, his new girlfriend, Ava, hanging off of his arm as he watched you sit in Elijah’s lap. 

“Rafey,” she whined and he winced. He hated that name. “I’m so drunk!” 

She’d had a beer and two vodka lemonade’s he’d made with about one shot of vodka between the two, she wasn’t drunk. Ava was the perfect kook princess, and she was driving him crazy, but Midsummers was in three months, and his dad told him he needed someone respectable. That’s what he’d told you when he asked for candidates, though he must’ve failed to mention the way his dad asked him to bring you. 

“Ava, go sit down then,” Rafe shrugged her off of him. “I have to go talk to someone, ok?”

“You’re seriously leaving me here alone?” Her face formed a frown, but Rafe couldn’t find it in himself to give a fuck. 

“Yes,” he answered before walking off to find you. 

The last couple of months had been very freeing for you. You’d finally gotten over the crush you’d had on Rafe for years, and you were finally out having fun and really dating for the first time. You had your friends, and Rafe finally stopped scolding you like an old man every time you went out with the pogues, you made friends with more people from the mainland since you’d started to go to college there, and Rafe had a girlfriend, so he wasn’t constantly with you, making your crush come back. It felt good. Elijah was hot, and all you really wanted was to fuck someone, and he’d do just fine. Dark curly hair, big brown eyes, and if the semi he was sporting underneath you now was any indication, he was do just fine in the ‘fucking’ department. 

“So what are you studying?” he asked, taking another sip. The mixture of drink and smoke in the air made your head spin in the best way. 

“Journalism and English lit,” you answered, pressing your hand against his chest. “You?”

“Maths,” he answered and you laughed. 

“That’s unexpected,” you chuckled. He looked like he was a surfer boy, not a maths major. His dirt tank top, worn-in swim shorts, and salty skin. He was hot. He laughed with you as his hands travelled lower, grabbing your ass, and you didn’t even mind. 

“I know, right?” He smirked. 

“So why did you pick maths?”

“I’m good at it,” he shrugged. “And I got a scholarship.”

You nodded. “So can you do like, any maths question?” You knew it was low-hanging fruit in terms of flirting, but you really weren’t in the mood for trying very hard. It was late and you were pretty drunk. 

He nodded nipping at your lips with his own. Your conversation was long forgotten as your finger ran through his hair and he groaned into your mouth. He was a good kisser, despite his wandering hands, which were either on your ass or tits, but again, you didn’t mind. 

He pulled away with glazed, lust-filled eyes. “You wanna get out of here?”

You nodded, then pulled him back in to kiss you. 

“Y/n!” Jj’s voice rang out in your ear, and he started to tap you hard on the shoulder. “Eli!”

You pulled away, annoyed. “What?” 

“Rafe is beating the shit out of  one of Eli’s friends, can you talk him down please?”

“What?” Eli asked. “Who?”

“Josh,” Jj answered. “Let’s go Y/n, before Rafe kills someone ideally!” Jj said it in a sing-song voice to mask the truth in his words. Rafe had come very close to seriously hurting people before, and every year he was just getting stronger (thanks to his gym addiction and never-ending rage). 

You reluctantly got off of Eli’s lap and ran behind Jj as he led you to the scene. 

Rafe was beating the shit out of Eli’s best friend, Josh and he was not looking good. He was trying to fight back, but you could tell he was close to tapping out, though you also knew that Rafe didn’t do ‘tap-outs’. 

“Rafe!” You shouted as the circle of people silenced. “Stop being a fucking idiot, get off of him!” you grabbed one of his arms, angry now. Your nights were always getting ruined by Rafe, especially recently. He had no right to pull shit like this, it wasn’t fair that you always had to clean up his messes. 

“Yeah exactly, listen to your girlfriend!” Josh spat. 

The circle of people watching went dead silent, and phones stopped recording. Both you and Rafe froze. Josh dropped to the floor, and Eli walked him off without sparing you a glance. The moment was frozen, and you were stuck in place, staring at Rafe's eyes.

Rafe could always tell how you were feeling but he couldn't now.

And it scared the shit out of him.

After another moment of confusion and being frozen, you looked after Eli, and tried to walk after him, but Rafe grabbed your arm. 

“Can we talk ab-”

“No! You fucking asshole! Did you really need to ruin tonight for me? Seriously? Go fuck yourself Rafe!” You cursed, then turned to the crowd around you. “Rafe Cameron is not my boyfriend, nor will he ever be, the shows over folks, fuck off!”

And with that you ran off to find Eli and Josh. 

----------------------

Rafe was searching the party for you. You weren’t where Eli had been before, and he wanted to talk to you, to drag you away from that piece of shit. 

In all honesty, the past few months had been a very confusing time for Rafe. He’d started college (only because his dad asked him to), he’d gotten his first long-term (3 months so far) relationship, he’d gone off drugs for the most part, he’d started feeling things for you. 

His best friend. 

Not that he hadn’t realised it before, but you were just so… you. So gorgeous, so smart, so funny, all of you. It was proving to be an issue, so he’d stopped hanging out with you so much, at least until he could figure out what was going on. He was about 99% sure his feelings were platonic, because everyone felt this way for their best friend, right? Obviously. Totally. Maybe?

He crossed the dance floor, only to be met with the face of Josh, Eli’s friend. And he was talking about you.

“Yeah, Eli’s got the only fucking hot girl here,” He smirked. Rafe hated how he smirked. He hated how he looked. He hated everything about this man, the one he’d never even met. “I’ll ask him if he’ll share,” he laughed like a sleazy piece of shit, and so did his friends. 

“Excuse me,” Rafe tried to move past them, but Josh grabbed his arm.

“Oh shit! You’re the boyfriend,” Josh chuckled and Rafe didn't correct him. “Sorry dude, she’s all mine tonight.”

And that’s when Rafe’s right hand made contact with his face. 

----------------------

Rafe stood there staring dumbly at his bloodied and bruised hands. You’d never spoken to him like that, ever. Rafe knew he could fly off the handle, and he knew it annoyed you when you had to fix everything for him, but you’d never complain. Tonight. Tonight, it finally boiled over and you shouted at him. Like he was anyone. Like he wasn’t your best friend, your Rafe. 

“You ok?” 

Topper’s voice cut through the ringing in his ears. Rafe’s eyes were glossy with unshed tears and it was taking a lot of willpower to not scream and try to break something, or sob and run after you. 

“Fine,” he said, letters over-punctuated as he rolled his eyes, looking up to stop the tears from falling. 

“Rafey!” Fucking Ava. “Did you get into another fight over me again?” She sighed, faking anger. He knew she didn’t give a fuck if he fought, she only cared about what the fight was about. 

“No,” he answered, getting closer to her face, dwarfing her with his tall height. “Go away.”

She pouted. “Rafey-”

“Stop fucking calling me that,” He cursed, grabbing the wrist of her hand, which was reaching to touch his face. “Ava, go home.”

“You brought me here,” she mumbled. 

“Yeah, so find another way home,” he chuckled softly, delighting in making her feel small. 

Ava looked down, angry now. “You’re a piece of shit, you know that?”

Rafe just smirked. “But you’re still with me, so I must not be that bad,” he laughed in her face. “Unless it’s just your daddy issues-”

He was hit so fast he didn’t even know what had happened. 

“Don’t ever talk to her like that again,” Kiara scoffed, squaring up to Rafe. “Ava, you can get a ride with me, ok?” Ava nodded and walked off with Kiara as you appeared. 

Kiara’d hit him. And he’d deserved it. 

Kelce and Topper cleared off, they knew this was about you. 

“How’s Elijah?” He rubbed his red cheek. 

“Josh is fine, thanks for asking,” your voice was cutting and precise. 

“I asked about Eli,” Rafe growled, grabbing your hand. 

“And I answered about Josh.”

He chuckled. “Your friends suck.”

“Your girlfriend is a bimbo.”

Rafe smiled. “And she takes dick like a champ, what more could a man want?”

Your face went from mild annoyance directly to disgust. “I’ll see you later,” you scoffed, starting to walk off. 

“Wait, wait, wait!” He called after you. “I-I’m sorry, ok? I was an asshole, and I’m sorry. That was a gross thing to say, I’m drunk and I just got beaten up, can you please forgive me?” he begged. 

But you were still walking away from him, and he was losing you. He followed you through the hoards of people, pleading and begging for you to forgive him as he trailed behind.

Finally, on the most secluded area of the beach you turned to him with tears streaming down your cheeks, and he felt his heart break. 

“Fucking hell Rafe! Can you not just notice anyone else around you for once!? You just ruined my fucking chances with Eli, you just beat the shit out of someone, and you just treated your girlfriend like she was some fangirl, you think I was to be associated with you right now? Let alone with you right now?! Can you stop being so tunnel-visioned? Fuck’s sake!” You wiped your eyes. “I’m so sick of being your fucking babysitter, you’re older than me Rafe! Please act like an adult! Treat your girlfriend better and treat the people around you better!” You sighed. “Treat me better.” 

Rafe’s heart was breaking. He never wanted to hurt you, that was the one thing he’d sworn he’d never do. You were with him through everything, through thick and fucking thin. And he was treating you like this? This was unacceptable,and he felt so guilty he wanted to throw up. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, the tears finally falling. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded, crossing your arms over. “Where?! Where are you fucking sorry Rafe? Because all I keep seeing is empty fucking promises and bullshit excuses,” You groaned. “You think I want to be the one scolding you? You think I want to have to de-escalate situations for you? No! This was my one fucking night off from work too, and you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry,” he was breathing heavily, he’d never felt so shitty. 

“Rafe,” you sighed. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean.”

And with that you walked away. 

----------------------

You dialled Eli’s number and prayed that he would answer. 

“Hey,” he sighed. 

“I’m so sorry,” you immediately answered. “Can we still meet up?”

He sighed into the phone. “I’m not sure Y/n, you kind of seem… preoccupied with Rafe.”

Fuck. Yet another one of your relationships ruined by Rafe Cameron. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t see it?” he chuckled. “You two are perfect for each other. He’s like the most angry and uncontrollable guy I’ve ever seen, and you control him and calm him down by just breathing. And you were the most shy and quiet person I’d ever seen, but when I see you talking with Rafe, or just being around him, you’re so much more brave and extroverted. It’s seriously impressive. You two complement each other Y/n. You bring the real him out, and he brings the real you out. That’s beautiful, and i’m not going to be the person to fuck that up.”

You finally understood. Rafe loved you back. You loved Rafe. Simple. Why did you ever overcomplicate this?

“Ok, thanks Eli,” you sighed, then hung up. You were still angry with Rafe, but you needed to tell him, and you needed to go now.

When you turned around, you ran straight into someone, Rafe.

“I couldn’t just let you walk away, you were crying and-”

“I’m super pissed with you, obviously,” you interrupted. “But I love you, like, love you. And I have for a long time.” 

Rafe’s jaw dropped. That’s all he had wanted to hear his whole life, and he only wanted to hear it form your perfect lips. 

“I-I-I-” he took a deep breath. “I love you too.”

He went in for a kiss but you pushed him back. “I’m still pissed, and you still have a girlfriend.”

He nodded, agreeing. “Right.”

You pressed your lips to his cheek. He smiled. There was a moment of silence. 

“Tanneyhill?” he offered. You agreed, and you walked there hand in hand. 

While you weren’t together yet, you would be. 

And that was enough for the both of you.

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obx masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games, challengers :)

[mt-oe]

I love ur workkkk 🥺🥺 … my heart melted

Can I request a mizu x reader in which reader was upset with mizu , and mizu trying to make reader feel happy with her ( I know I worded it poorly 😭😔. English is not my first language 😔). this can be sfw or nsfw. u write the spiciest nsfw stuff 😉

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for requesting! I'm so sorry if this was WAY overdue. I'll try to make up for it by writing as best as I can <3

Also, please don't think too much about how you worded it. Trying to communicate your ideas, regardless of how you worded it, is already enough.

On an unrelated note, I am temporarily closing my inbox so I can catch up on requests. I wouldn't want to rush since that might compromise the quality of the fics. I deeply appreciate the messages and comments and would really like to answer them but I'm still too shy ;; I promise I'm really trying. Please don't get mad or disappointed in me. Thank you for understanding!

Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

Mizu has done a lot of things before. Her sword has known the blood of many, cut through numerous organs, and had seen death like it was the next door neighbor. The fights she had fought were more ferocious than what most warriors could stomach. With a will of steel and the mind of a tactician, a capable swordsman she truly was. But...

How the hell was she going to get through this one?

Cerulean orbs narrowed as she watched you, or more precisely, your back. Her gaze roaming from the tips of your hair to the way your back slumped. Your huffs and whispered grumbles were the only sound that could be heard from the room.

She could feel her palms sweating and her fingers running cold. Not a single coherent thought formed in her brain from how unnerving the situation was. For the first time in her life, she was faced with an opponent she did not know how to defeat.

And this opponent was strong. Not even the swing of her sword or the strength of her hands could quell the wrath and sheer rage of this enemy. Mizu knew she had to plan her next move well or this could cost her everything.

And this opponent...was her wife's anger.

Yes, the ronin who quite literally bit someone's nose, survived a fall from several stories high, burned down Edo, was utterly helpless under her lover's wrath.

"I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do?" she asked, placing a hand on your shoulder, trying to pull you to face her. A groan of frustration boiled at her throat as you shrugged her hand off harshly. "I said I was sorry. What else do I have to do?" you mocked her, imitating her low voice before sticking your tongue. "Go figure it out yourself! Hmph!"

This was so stupid, she thought. But despite the words in her head, she was utterly lost.

All this drama just because she missed a kabuki show that you wanted to watch?

Sure, you had told her ahead of time. Sure, you already planned it out. Sure, you were already at the venue. But it was just a goddamn stage play, what were you so upset about? There would be another show next week with the same story anyway, and if you were so excited to watch, you could have watched it without her.

So what was the big deal about it?

She rolled her eyes before standing up, looking at you in resignation. "Fine, sulk," she grumbled in response, to which you stuck your tongue out. She rolled her eyes once again before strapping her sword to her waist. "Talk when you're no longer acting like a brat." And with those words, she left, slamming the door and causing it to bounce open slightly.

Upon hearing her footsteps fading, you immediately let out a loud sigh. You turned to look at the spot where your lover had previously sat on with a sense of hurt. "But I wanted to go on a date..." you whispered to yourself, throat tightening.

This was one of those moments where you really just had to say, 'it is what it is', and pretend to not get hurt.

You knew Mizu wasn't the most romantic person on the planet. Hell, it was even a surprise that she asked you out. However, there were times when you wished you could open her head and shove some cheesy romance novels, because how the fuck did she not get that you were asking her out on a date?

Urgh.

"What am I even expecting?" you asked yourself out loud, bringing the tickets you had bought for both of you. Tickets that were wasted just because she thought training and buying supplies were more important than spending 4 hours watching a play in a theater with her wife. "Maybe next time I'll just watch her train."

You love her. Of course you did. And you knew she loves you too, but sometimes her inability to understand or express romance made you question it.

Slowly and painfully, you tore up the tickets and fed it to the candle flame, watching as it turned to ashes. Welp. There goes your idea of a romantic evening. "And I planned it for so long too," you sighed as you brought your knees to your chest.

Unbeknown to you, your wife had secretly sneaked back, sitting beside the small door crack she had intentionally made earlier. A small frown on her face as she realized how much she fucked up.

You were right.

You did plan it for a long time. She could see your eyes widen every time the two of you passed by the theatre whenever you went out for supplies, filled with excitement that she couldn't understand then. And you already told her early, so it wasn't like it was out of the schedule or out of the way. Most of all, you were already at the venue.

You were waiting for this for such a long time.

You were waiting for her for such a long time.

And she wasted your efforts. She somehow thought that what you were so eager for was something she could trade for a few hours of extra training.

Guilt welled up in her as she continued to listen to your sighs, peeking inside the room every now and then to make sure you were okay. Her heart clenched in an odd, unfamiliar, yet extremely uncomfortable way at the sight of your frown.

Damnit. Mizu knew she messed up big time. However, even if she felt absolutely terrible, she also knew she couldn't just come back in and reveal that she had just watched you go through five stages of grief in less than an hour or else you'd feel like you forced her to apologize. But how could she make up for this?

As she was deep in thought, thinking of ways on how she could apologize, she suddenly heard the soft padding sound of your feet on the tatami mat as you stood up. "I guess I'll take a nap. Maybe I'll feel better when I wake up," she heard you sigh for the umpteenth time.

Her eyes watched you stretch before pulling the futon out of the closet and set it up. Your hands carefully undid the pins stuck to your hair before laying down, pulling the covers over you, the frown you wore never dissipating.

She could feel her conscience weighing down on her, telling her what a dense idiot she was. The feeling hitting her like a ton of bricks as she watched you slowly fall asleep with a heavy heart.

No, she wasn't going to let your day go on like this. If she fucked up, she's fixing it up.

Slowly and carefully, she got up and sneaked away, leaving the inn and going to the market. No matter how unexperienced or how unknowledgeable she was with how to comfort a person, Mizu was going to try her best.

-

Hours passed and the short nap you had planned turned into one of the longest one you've had yet. It wasn't a pleasant one, but it wasn't the worst either. Your eyes slowly fluttered open before squinting at the faint glow of the candle. The world felt slightly heavy and tilted as your head spu—wait? The candle?

"Oh shit," you whispered, shooting up and looking around in panic, head still spinning from grogginess. Oh no, you forgot to blow out the candle before your nap and accidentally kept it burning. Mizu was going to pissed at you, especially since it was the last one.

But wait—

Shouldn't it have burnt out already?

You brought the back of your hand to your eyes, rubbing away the sleep and grogginess to have a better look around. However, upon looking up, surprise took over your senses.

The room was...decorated?

Or at least there was an attempt.

At a distance from the foot of your futon sat your lover with a wooden crate in front of her. A bit of relief washed over your body as you realized that she had taken care of the candle for you, but still, you were heavily confused. "Mizu...what's going on?" you asked, yawning a bit.

She looked at you with the same emotionless stare she had before sighing. Her hands slowly turned the crate around so the opening was facing you. It was decorated too, and even if it was poorly recreated, you could recognize the setting. It was very similar to the kabuki theater you wanted to go to.

From her back, she brought out two dolls. One wearing a kimono in a color similar to what you were wearing, and one male doll that looked like a samurai. A heavy exhale could be heard coming from her as the embarrassment started kicking in. Was she really going to do this? Yes, yes she was.

Clearing her throat, she moved the dolls to the makeshift stage as she began her narration. "Once upon a time, in a small village, stayed a ronin and her wife." She glances momentarily at you before looking down again, a faint dust of blush on her cheeks. "Her very beautiful wife," she clarified.

Your eyes widened with a mix of delight and surprise. The grogginess from your sleep wore off at the sweetness of your lover's effort. You couldn't believe it. It was a stage play. A stage play about the two of you.

Her hands moved the dolls on stage, making them hold hands as she narrated the events in the story. "But one day, the ronin, being very foolish, decided to go up in the mountains and train instead of accompanying her wife," she said, dolls moving to match her words.

"And her wife..." she continued, moving your doll to look like it was sulking, "...got very upset." Blue eyes looked at you once again to check if you were still watching. You could tell that she was being very sincere about this.

"Not knowing what to do, the ronin went out to think and realized that she was indeed wrong and had been inconsiderate, that her wife was really just trying to bond and spend time in merriment."

She slowly set the dolls down and readjusted, sitting up straight before bowing her head slightly. "And so, the ronin apologized," she said with all seriousness. "I'm sorry, love. I knew you wanted to go out for so long. I should have appreciated your efforts more. I have no excuses."

Silence embraced the room after, completely amplifying the pounding of her heart as she awaited your response. Jitters ran through her body from nervousness. Mizu didn't dare look up, not until you gave her a response.

Seconds felt like minutes as she waited. An unexplainable kind of anxiety holding over her. What if you didn't like the little show she put? What if she just made your anger worse? Her thoughts were scattering by the millisecond. She wanted nothing more than for you to forgive her.

Her heart stopped as she saw your hands reach for the dolls, looking over them before making your doll face her doll.

"And the wife accepted the apology," you giggled, bending your dolls head slightly so it would kiss the representing her. Before she could speak, she felt your lips on her cheek. The sweet sound of your laughter soon followed, making her blush.

You lifted the dolls up to eye level and looked at them fondly. "You really went out and beyond, didn't you?" you laughed, wiggling them around in some form of cuteness aggression. She lifted her head and smiled softly. "I didn't know what to do," she admitted, finding your fondness for the dolls adorable. "And I really wanted to go back to my wife."

"You could have just said sorry, dummy. But.." your voice trailed off, eyes looking back at your wife's, leaning closer to her. "This made me unbelievably happy," you admitted. "Thank you, love."

Your wife's smile widened as you leaned in and kissed her softly. Her hands instinctively pulling you closer. Love and affection radiated from her as both of you pulled away, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. Her breath hitched as you opened your mouth, anticipation building up regarding what you were going to say.

"But next time you do that, you're sleeping without a futon."

"Yes ma'am"

[damiansgoodgirll]

heyy i love ur fics sm!!! was wondering if u could do a damian fic where reader and him are on a plane tg and reader gives him a hand job and damian returns the favor

damian priest x reader

‼️smut so stay away kids

plan b

“i can’t sleep” you groaned next to your boyfriend. you were currently on a long flight going to the uk and, note to say, you hated flying.

not because you were scared, you just didn’t like it. and you were thankful for the little privacy the first class was giving you and damian because you didn’t know how would you have handled being on a ten hour flight in economy class, with all the people talking and kids screaming.

“i’m sorry love…it will be over soon” he smiled at you looking up from the book he was reading.

“can you please share the blanket? i’m starting to freeze with all this air conditioning…” you asked him and he gently opened the blanket a little more to let it pose over your legs.

another ten minutes passed and you harshly threw your phone over the little table in front of you.

damian gave you a questioning look. he knew you could get a little childish during flights, especially long flights.

“i’m so bored…i’m gonna die here i fear” you said, making him laugh.

“just try to close your eyes and sleep a bit mi amor, we’re gonna land soon” he said, scooping you a little into his side.

laying your head over his shoulder and your hands in his lap, a mischievous idea made passed your mind. it’s not like you were trying to be bratty on purpose, even though you liked it, you were just too bored that whatever idea came to your mind was better than die of boredom.

one of your hands moved under the blanket, still resting on damian’s thighs. it’s when he felt you moving lower and lower that he realised what you had in mind and even though he was craving for your touch, he didn’t want to catch the attention of the other passengers.

“what are you doing?” he whispered.

“you know exactly what i’m doing…” you said back while your hand palmed his growing length over his shorts.

“shit” he hissed “we shouldn’t do this here…”

“you don’t want it?”

“i do want it mi amor…what about the people? they will hear us”

“damian everyone is asleep!” you laughed “plus they won’t hear us if you keep your mouth shut” you said before moving your hand into his boxers “we have the blanket over us…they won’t see and they won’t hear us…so sit back and enjoy it big boy” you said kissing his neck softly before starting to slowly move your hand over his length.

it was hard for him to keep it shut, and you knew it too. loving how usually vocal he is in bed, you knew he was trying his best to not make any noise.

“oh fuck…” he moaned into his hand when you moved your hand a little faster, teasing his tip with your fingers “keep doing that”

“i don’t plan on stopping” you whispered into his ear, making him shiver.

your lips touched his neck a few times, kissing the sweet spot behind his ear that you knew would make him crazy.

“i don’t know how much longer i can keep it shut…fuck, what has gotten into you uh?” he asked you, still trying to muffle his moans.

“i was getting bored…”

“oh you should get bored more often” he teased back.

“yes uh?” you moved your hand up and down his length, teasing his tip once again, feeling him shaking into your hand “you close?” you asked and he nodded.

“move your hand or i’m gonna cum on you…”

“i don’t plan on doing so” you moved a little faster, his cum covering your hand.

“how was it?” you asked, knowing the answer already, removing your hand from under the blanket and slowly cleaning the remaining cum on your hand with your tongue, making him moan just looking at you.

“very good…but, you wouldn’t think i would let you go away with this…”

“what you mean?”

“i mean…” his hand now went under the blanket and moved towards your legs “i mean lift that hips up, remove your shorts and panties and spread your legs, because you ain’t safe either mi amor”

you did as he told you. loving this dominant side of him, knowing that you were in for a long night.

[luvrxbunny]

hii!! just read ur vampire!eddie fic and it was so goooddd!!!! 🥹😩 I was wondering if I could request tho maybe mafia!eddie(??) totally okay if u don’t want to or if that’s not ur vibe hehe ☺️ thank you!! 🤍🤍

omg you're my first request! i hope this is along the lines of what you wanted ily enjoy! also this was supposed to come out next Monday but I didn't wanna wait

Pairing: Mafia!Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: Eddie has you sit in during a meeting and hijinks ensue.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, piv, unprotected sex, exhibitionism(?) (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 3.5k

A/N: he works out of an office building… don't ask

Eddie is in a meeting when you show up. His receptionist has you sit in the waiting room while he wraps up so you’re sitting there quietly with your little basket of home-baked muffins. Your sundress is fanned out around you delicately, and a soft smile is on your face at the thought of seeing your fiancé 

Your heart jumps and you stand up when the door opens and two suited men walk out as Eddie shakes hands with the third one. You’re fixated on how his silver rings shine in the light, you run your eyes up his body and notice he’s wearing your favorite outfit.

It was your birthday when you picked it, he said you should choose the outfit he would wear to your party. You put him in a black suit with a sleeveless black turtleneck underneath, a silver watch that you bought him, a silver chain, and his silver gauges for accessories. 

He looks so incredibly powerful, that it has you clenching your thighs together desperately. You admire his curly hair, loving the way it falls over his shoulders when you notice him looking at you, very confused. “Sandy, what is she doing out here?” He says in a rough, angry voice as he makes his way over to you with an angry scowl. He grabs your arm more gently than you expected and drags you over to the doorway of his office.

“I told you to always send her right in. Don’t let this happen again.” He slams his door shut before Sandy can answer and kisses you softly. “Hey, sweetheart.” He takes your basket and walks to his desk, you following close behind him. “What’re you doing here? Need me?” He places them on his desk and drops himself in his chair, legs spread and smirking as he looks up at you. 

You giggle at him, a little flustered that he saw through you so quickly. “How did you know?” You’re staring at the ground as you ask him, your weight shifting from leg to leg. Eddie is silent as you stare at your feet, waiting for him to answer but little do you know, Eddie is waiting for you. He’s watching you shift around nervously, looking anywhere but into his eyes and he decides that he won’t answer until you look directly at him. The silence gets a bit unbearable and you look up to see what’s taking him so long only to see him already staring at you, a smile breaking out on his face when your eyes meet.

“I know my fiancee, baby… And I know you’re not wearing anything under that sundress. You never do.” His voice sounds a little far away by the end of his sentence, his eyes wandering down your body. You watch his smile widen as he takes you in. Your thighs clenching together when his gaze rests there, you can see his jaw clenching in response as he fixes his gaze back on your face. “Come sit in my lap, baby.”

You smile brightly and place yourself in his lap, facing him and you can already feel his dick hardening and pressing against you. “There’s my pretty girl.” He whispers into your lips before devouring you and an all-consuming kiss. It’s obvious in the way he bruises his lips into yours that he’s missed you too.

His hands are gripping both sides of your face, pulling you against him. His hands run down your back and to your sides, his thumbs coming up to stroke your nipples softly, feeling them stiffen up underneath his thumbs. He moans into your mouth at the feeling and pulls at the straps of your dress, trying to free your boobs so he can play with them properly but you hear his door open, pulling you out of the moment and forcing your lips to part from Eddie’s.

“Sandy, what the fuck have I said about knocking?” His voice is booming, it almost makes you flinch, as Eddie yells at him. You turn halfway in Eddie’s lap so you can see Sandy, his eyes bulging at your mussed state, staring at your fallen dress strap and your nipples pressing through the fabric of your dress. You feel Eddie’s breathing speed up, a deep growl working its way in as Sandy takes more and more time to answer, undressing you with his eyes instead. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice right now.” Eddie’s voice is low and dangerous as he speaks to Sandy, snapping him out of his trance. His face is completely red by the time he looks up at Eddie, jumping a bit when he sees the look in his eyes. Eddie looks like he could hospitalize him, you can feel his hand balling into a fist where it rests on your hip, his muscles tensing as he considers it. 

You wrap your arm around his shoulder and place a calming hand on his chest, feeling him relax under it as Sandy finally speaks.”Sorry, sir! Y-Your five ‘o’ clocks are here. Would you like me to tell them to wait or?” You can feel Eddie’s breathing stop. You’re quite upset that you won’t be able to stay but try not to show it. You’d never want Eddie to feel bad for doing his job but he was busier and busier nowadays, and you’ve started to feel a little lonely. 

Eddie’s voice booms across the room when he speaks up. “Why was I not informed?” Sandy flinches at the sound and opens his mouth to speak but a squeak is all that comes out. You can feel Eddie revving up to yell again when you start to get up from his lap, fixing your dress in the process. “Eddie it's fine, I’ll head home and see you when you’re done.” You say happily, trying to diffuse the situation and save Sandy from further reprimanding. 

You lean down to place a kiss on Eddie’s head when he tears his gaze from Sandy and looks dead into your eyes. “Sit down.” He says it with such conviction, in such a commanding tone that you don't even think about questioning him. You immediately place yourself back in his lap as you were before. He keeps his eyes on yours as you sit before looking back at Sandy. “You send them in but if this ever happens again you are dead, understand?”

Sandy mumbles out a quick “Yes sir.” and rushes out of the room. Eddie takes a deep breath before looking at you and pressing a soft kiss to your neck. “You stay here. It shouldn’t be too long.” He whispers in between kisses. You bring your hand around his head and stroke his hair gingerly as he kisses you. He sighs into you when you part your lips, allowing his tongue to roam your mouth. Your hips begin to move subconsciously, pushing your pussy down on his thighs for friction when the door opens again. You pull apart from Eddie, taking a deep breath to try and calm the frustration bubbling in your chest at being interrupted again.

Prominent men and beautiful women file into the room and sit in various seats, some standing along the walls, and all intimidating to you. They await Eddie, waiting for him to kick off the meeting, waiting for him to send you out. Instead, Eddie welcomes everyone and begins stroking up and down your leg to calm you as he starts talking business. You watch Eddie as he speaks, saying a lot of things you don’t understand but you love it. You’ve only gotten to see him like this a few times, in "business" mode. He’s scared your opinion of him will change. 

He’s so strong in the way he demands respect. He talks in a way that makes you want to hear what he has to say. He asserts himself and no one questions it because he carries himself and speaks with unwavering confidence. He’s almost a different person when you see him like this, talking in a gruff, angry, domineering voice that takes charge of a room. You reluctantly pull your eyes from Eddie to watch the rest of the room only to notice that almost everyone has their eyes on you. You begin to squirm uncomfortably as everyone stares and Eddie instantly notices.

“Hey!” He shouts out sharply, causing the whole room to jump, multiple people reaching for their waistbands, worrying you a bit. “Everyone’s attention seems to be divided… is there a reason?” He’s using that low, threatening tone again and it has you leaking into your dress. You watch as the terrifying characters look around nervously, steering clear of Eddie’s gaze in hopes of avoiding the question. The silence sits heavy in the air until someone speaks up, a large, burly man who has you curling in, trying to hide in Eddie’s lap. 

“I guess I’m just wondering what your tramp is doing sitting in on a confidential meeting.” He says in a tough, confident, almost smug voice. You watch Eddie’s features twist into an expression of rage at the man’s words. His hands squeeze your hips momentarily before pushing you up and out of his lap slowly. Your eyes are on Eddie’s face when he reaches underneath his desk and you hear the scrape of his gun against it. You’re heart races, you’ve never seen it before. He stands at his full height, stretching his back and cracking his neck as he crosses the room, slowly walking over to the man. 

You stare at his thick fingers wrapped around the silver metal, turning off the safety and cocking it. “What… the fuck did you just call my fiancée?” Eddie asks lightly, his tone is almost jovial as he presses his gun against the man’s lower stomach. You’re breathing quickly as you watch the scene unfold, you watch Eddie slide his gun up the man's body and underneath his chin when he’s met with silence instead of an answer. “What did you call my wife?” 

Eddie’s finger hovers over the trigger, anticipation building inside you as you press your legs together. You feel your wetness begin to drip down your thigh when you see a smirk split Eddie’s face as the man tries to answer. “I- Ed I- I didn’t know. I thought she was just a fuck, man. I-” Eddie fires right next to the man’s ear, making you jump as the man doubles over in pain, both of his hands pressed to his ear in an attempt to stop the painful ringing. 

Eddie turns to the rest of the room, ignoring the man’s groans of pain in favor of making an announcement. “If anyone even thinks of disrespecting my wife I will put a bullet in you... Consider this your first and final warning.” Eddie strides over to you, your eyes are wide and frantic and his turn apologetic when he sees yours. You look unsettled and frazzled as he seats you back in his lap. He’s still looking at the room, avoiding your gaze. “Pitch your ideas and get the fuck out.”

He’s panting while you stare at him, his eyes cold and violent until they meet yours, softening to a loving gaze instantly. He mouths out an apology as people start pitching their ideas to him. You shake your head and kiss his forehead before resting your head on his shoulder as he tunes back into his meeting. His hand starts rubbing up and down your leg again, reaching higher and higher up every time. It’s working you up, causing you to leak against his thigh and hold back whimpers. He finally gets his hand up to your inner thigh and that’s when he starts to feel your wetness. His focus goes to shit the moment he feels it, not even hesitating before pushing his hand further up your dress to come in contact with your soft, soaked pussy. 

You watch his face, it’s hard as marble, stoic as he continues to listen and give feedback but you can feel him hardening in his pants again. His breath quickens and stutters as he pushes his fingers into your hot, wet cunt. His eyelids flutter as he curls them, pressing against your G-spot and feeling you clench around his digits. You can feel his other hand tighten its grip on your hip as his hips subtly push his dick up into your thighs. A satisfied grunt falls from his lips as he plays his movements off as him readjusting his position.

A whimper falls out of your mouth and against his into his neck as you bury your face in it, trying to hide your expression from the rest of the room. His fingers are thrusting deep inside you, you’re trying to regulate your breathing so you don’t alert anyone in the room but you’re struggling as you crawl towards an orgasm. Your hips start to gently thrust forward to meet Eddie’s hand, grinding his palm against your clit and whining softly into his ear.

Eddie is struggling to contain himself, growing decreasingly interested in the meeting and more in the way your body is reacting to him. Your face is resting in the crook of his neck and he can hear your whimpers as they slip out, he can feel your breath as it fans his skin. Your back is arching, he doesn't think you realize that you’re pressing your chest against him but it’s fucking him up. The way you’re yearning for him, the way your body is reaching out for him in front of everyone has him straining inside his pants. 

He watches the meeting wrap up in a daze, every sense muffled to everything else, tuned in to you as you grind yourself into his lap. He can feel your arousal soaking his pants and it’s making him twitch. His hips buck into yours as his cock throbs inside his pants. He already has you standing by the time the door shuts behind the last person. Your knees are so weak that you almost collapse when he props you up against the desk. He presses your face into the hard surface and spreads your legs with his own, forcing them open and resting his legs against yours. 

He’s holding both wrists behind your back with one hand as you moan and listen to him fumble with his belt and zipper. “I’m gonna fuck you so well, baby. Just how you deserve.”

You can hear him stroking himself, a wet noise resonating through the room. You’re head is spinning and you’ve never been more turned on in your life. You push up onto your tip toes, trying to grind your hips back into Eddie, trying to get him inside you faster.

“Please, Eddie! N-need it so bad, please.” You beg and beg as Eddie lines himself up with your entrance and pushes in. The stretch isn’t too bad because of how worked up you are but you’re still tight enough that the initial thrust has you and Eddie moaning out. Eddie’s hand releases your wrists when he bottoms out, pulling your hips to his and holding you in place. 

“Fuck, darling. You’re so perfect, so tight and wet for me. Just how I like it, huh?” He slowly wraps one hand around, grasping your throat. His wide fingers gripping gently for pressure but not cutting any air supply yet. His body is hunched over yours, caging you in and creating a curtain with his hair as he starts to gently fuck into you. His hips are moving languidly into yours, savoring the suction of your pussy every time he slides back into you. He’s groaning into your ear about how magnificent your pussy is, he’s telling you about how much he thinks of it throughout the day, how often he wishes he was buried in your instead of dealing with idiots.

You’re moaning much louder than you should be, considering you know there are people around, right outside of Eddie’s office but you just can’t hold back. Eddie brings his hand from your throat up to cover your mouth with his entire palm, the action has your eyes rolling back and just moaning louder into his hand. “F-fuck, baby. You like that?” His hips stutter as you clench around him moaning in response to his question. “I love it, Eds. Baby- Eddie please- fuck.” You gasp out against his hand, your voice muffled. You’re hips grind back against his cock as he plunges into you as deep as he can, staying there and watching you fuck yourself back on his cock.

He’s obsessed with the way your hips are moving, his hand coming up to grip his hair as he tries to calm himself. His eyes roll back and close as you desperately push your hips back against his. He’s groaning out your name with every other thrust as he starts fucking into you again, his voice beginning to sound more like a whine that has your legs giving out. You start to lose your rhythm, getting caught up in how Eddie’s cock slides against your walls, how the tip abuses your g-spot perfectly with every thrust, how he fills you to the brim so it’s all you can focus on. Eddie takes note of your struggle and gets to work. One hand goes under you to play with your clit, and the other grips your hip, stabilizing you as Eddie pounds into you with renewed energy.

“This pussy ‘s so fucking flawless, baby. Dunno what I’d do without my favorite girl.” He rambles on as he approaches his high, hyperfocused on the tightening of your pussy as he hammers into you. You can feel the heat in your stomach spreading throughout your body as your muscles tense, your legs starting to shake and your knees completely give out. Eddie flips you onto your back so you’re lying atop his desk gripping his biceps. He takes no time to thrust himself back into you, hands grasping your hips and moaning against your face before diving in for a kiss. “Gotta see that pretty face when I make you cum, love.”

You moan into his lips, feeling your pussy begin to pulse hopelessly around him. “Eddie. Eddie, I’m ‘onna c-cum. ‘M so close please-” You cut yourself off with a gasp as your hands move to his hair, fisting in it as your orgasm crashes over you. Your hands pull at his hair and rake down his arms, leaving red streaks for him to show off later.

He’s enamored with the way you look when you’re cumming. The way your eyes squeeze shut as he continues to pound into you. He can feel his stomach tensing, his balls tightening up in preparation for his load but he holds off to keep fucking you. He holds back as long as he can in favor of watching you, the way your eyebrows pull inwards when the pleasure spills into overstimulation. You whine at him to stop thrusting into you, telling him it’s “too much” and that you “c-can’t take it” but it only spurs him further.

He’s moaning your name on repeat as your senses are assaulted, pleasure stabbing between your legs with every thrust until Eddie cums hot and hard into your cunt. He folds forward with a painful groan and moans for you. His hips jerk into yours with every rope of cum that shoots out of his cock, coating and covering your walls as you milk him. He groans out when you're purposely tighten your pussy on him, prolonging and intensifying his orgasm. His arms give out and he basically collapses against you, moaning into your neck and kissing along it. 

You stroke his hair as he gently thrusts into you, relishing how good you make him feel. He pulls his head from your neck and presses a loving kiss to your lips. You moan gently into his mouth and he whines in response before pulling away with a smile. He looks deep into your eyes as he presses a thumb to your bottom lip and kisses you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him close, his chest against yours and your legs wrapped around his waist, keeping him inside you. One of his hands is behind your head, cradling it as he kisses you gently, his other running up and down your arm soothingly. You pull away from Eddie with a dazed smile that has his smile widening as he picks you up off his desk and across the office. 

He gently places you on a couch he had installed for this specific reason, there were too many times he’d fuck you in his office and you’d have to leave almost immediately after because you needed sleep or you couldn’t just stand in the corner. It made you both feel awful so he bought this couch. It barely went with the decor of his office but it was your favorite color so he doesn’t care. He rests your head on a cushion before pulling a blanket over you and kissing your forehead. You watch him through sleepy eyes as he brings some papers, his laptop, and his glasses over to the couch. He gently lifts your legs, places them in his lap and his laptop on top of them earning a little snort from you. He turns to you quickly with a surprised smile. “You still watching me? Go to sleep, baby.” He has a soft laugh throughout and rubs your leg lightly. You giggle at him and let sleep take you. 

Thank you so much for reading! and thank you even more for requesting!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[miguelhugger2099]

Oh I love your writing so much! Ur really feeding us so much Miguel fic thank you for ur service 🫶❤️❤️❤️.

I'm just thinking about reader take Miguel to meet their mom and seeing Miguel n her bond with each other and maybe talk shit about his mom( I need Miguel to have a better mom like he deserve😭🙏🙏)

First Meeting

bro its so hard to find a gif of this man NOT frowning or beating miles up 😭 BUT thank u sm <3 hehe i try to feed yall and im glad im doing an okay job i love serving my community🫡 I really loved this request a little breather from smut lol but i hope i did okay! as always, i can write something different if you're not happy with it :'3

Miguel x Reader, Fluffy, A bit of angst, Word Count: 1,950

Miguel clutched your hand in his left hand, while his right gripped a small wrapped gift tightly. His eyes were glued to the front door and feet planted on the wooden floorboard of your mothers porch. He had stopped you just before ringing the doorbell by tugging on your hand. “Wait,” He breathed out. “Are…are we sure it’s today? Are you sure this gift is enough for her? Maybe I should’ve brought food instead…” He murmurs with a worried knit of his eyebrows making his stress lines appear deeper. You sigh through your nose with a soft smile. “You have nothing to worry about. Yes, it’s today and yes the gift is enough. My mom makes too much food anyway so it’s probably best if we didn’t have more.” You chuckle softly and cup his cheek. The warmth of your hand makes his eyes slip off the door and down towards your face. His eyes had softened but they still held worry in them. You knew about his own past, how he didn’t really have a positive parental role model–much less a mother. So, you believed all this worry came from the trauma of what she had done to him and now, he’s trying to seek the approval of another mom. He wants to be good enough and you’re one hundred percent sure he is. “She’ll love you.” You whisper gently, as if the idea itself would spook him. He sucks in a sharp breath and looks off to the side. “But what if she doesn’t?” He asks, looking down at the pretty red bow around the small box in his hand.

“She will,” You assure him. “You are so easy to love, Miggy. I know you’re afraid and that this is a big step for us, but just trust me.” Your thumb caresses his cheekbone. “I do trust you.” He mumbles and looks back down at you. “Good. Then you have nothing to worry about.” You lean up to kiss him and he meets you halfway, pecking your lips in a sweet and quick kiss. You pull away and smile up at him, his cheeks tinged a light hue of red at his vulnerability with you; he was still getting used to it. “Ready?” You ask him. He squeezes your hand tightly in his. “Yeah.” You squeeze his hand in return and then press the little button of your mothers doorbell. You hear the ringing from inside and you two wait patiently until your mom arrives. Miguel’s leg shakes nervously, his finger tapping the box. The door opens and Miguel stiffens into a straight posture. Your mother greets you two with a warm smile and a small cry of joy. “Oh my baby!” She yanks the open wide open and ushers you both inside. “Come in! Come in! It must be freezing!” You giggle and tug Miguel with you with him bending slightly so as to not bump his head coming in.

She turns to Miguel with a big smile after closing the door behind you. “And you must be Miguel! They’ve told me so much about you!” Miguel smiled wearily, unsure and a little terrified with how…welcoming she had been already. He pushes it aside and lets go of your hand to hold the box in his left hand to give your mother his right for a handshake. “Yes, Miguel O’Hara. It’s a pleasure to meet you, señora.” Your mother takes his hand and shakes it, her other hand on her cheek as she coos up at Miguel. “Oh, what a gentleman! Come, let me take your coat.” She holds out her hands as both you and Miguel slip your coats off your backs. Miguel shakes his head and politely declines. “Thank you but it’s alright. I can do it myself.” Your mother sputters and scoffs, waving away his concerns with her hand. “Nonsense! I insist. You’re in my home so you are a guest! Don’t be too gentlemanly.” She jokes at the end, taking his and your coat despite your protests. Miguel takes it harder than you, worrying that she might think he’s lazy and forcing her to be so kind but you loop your arm around his. “She’s like this. She likes doing this and I’ve tried to stop her.” You shrug with a knowing smile. “Don’t worry.” You remind him and kiss his cheek. “Well don’t just stand there! Dinner is just about done.” You hear her call from the kitchen. Miguel fiddles with the box, tossing it from hand to hand. “I’m gonna head to the bathroom really quick.” You tell Miguel, feeling him freeze subtly. You slip your arm from him and he stands awkwardly in the living room.

Miguel swallows the lump in his throat and sets the gift down by the table. He then walks over to the kitchen where your mom is and sees her collecting plates for all three of you. He walks beside her and taps her shoulder to not scare her, underestimating his giant footsteps. “I can help.” He shrinks his size as much as he can to not look as gigantic next to your mother. She brightens up at him. “Oh, you don’t have to but thank you.” She pats his muscular bicep.

“I know I don't, but I'd like to. You've done so much work tonight making a delicious dinner.” He says softly, taking two plates for you and him.

“Of course. I wanted to make a good impression on the man who captured my baby's heart. Especially when they're a real piece of work.” She tuts playfully, shaking her head and laughing to herself.

Miguel chuckles along with her, taking a spoon and scooping out some white rice for his plate. “They're not that bad.” He defends you with a small grin.

Your mother hoots out a laugh. “You weren't there in their teenage years!” She jams her own spoon into the rice cooker to scoop her own desired amount. “I love my children to death but oh, I could've used a break when they were fourteen. So many phases I couldn't keep up. I'm sure your own mother thought the same.”

Miguel smiles to himself, wondering and wishing he could've seen you during those years. He wonders if you two would have clicked. He thinks back to his own days as a teen. They weren't as nice as yours.

He remembers holding his baby brother rightly to his chest as his parents were fighting, making sure his ears were covered. He remembers the fights he had gotten into with his own mother and how he was always compared to his little brother. Everyday in that house was a screaming match–either with Miguel or between his parents.

He sighs heavily, the weight of the past pressing against his ribs. Your mother notices it instantly, growing worried she might have set something off.

You exit the bathroom after washing your hands and approach the kitchen after hearing their conversation. You stop and wait by the wall behind them when you hear Miguel talking again.

“Yeah, uh, my mother and I weren't really close so I wouldn't know.” He chuckles dryly, picking up some tongs and grabbing a bowl of pasta for you. He hopes he hasn't made it awkward.

Your mother stops making her plate and instead looks up at him with an expression he can't decipher. “Did you know her?” She asks.

Miguel nods, shrugging his shoulders up. “Yes, yeah, I did. She was–I just wasn't her favorite, is all.” He puts it lightly.

She juts her bottom lip out in a deep frown and huffs, already getting an idea of how his own mother treated him. “‘Favorites.’” She scoffs. “What bullshit. If you're a good parent, then there are no favorites.”

Miguel blinks at her sudden cursing before letting out a soft laugh. “I could've been better.” He says, feeling defensive strangely enough by blaming his mothers abuse on himself. “I mean she didn't go as far as hitting me yet but–”

Your mother loudly cuts through a large piece of steak, the pan slightly squeaking from the force of her knife moving to rip apart the meat. She mutters under her breath, anger simmering under her skin.

“I know I said teenage years were rough but none of that is ever your fault. Physical or not.” She picks up the slab of steak with a fork and places it on Miguel's plate. She knew he was a big eater via you.

“You were just a boy and anything that woman did to you doesn't deserve a moment of your thoughts.” She says firmly. “And if that woman is out of your life–is she out of your life?” She points a knife at him.

Miguel nods. “For the most part, yes ma'am.” 

The older woman tsks and returns back to Miguel's plate, picking up a tomato and slices thin pieces for him. “Well, if she ever comes back and pisses you off, you come straight here. You don't need all that negativity sucking out your happiness.”

Miguel smiles as your mother works, feeling warm that he has a home to lean back on. “Si, señora.”

“You come here with them too because they don't visit me often.” She nudges Miguel with her elbow, talking shit about you playfully.

You lift off the wall with a smirk, deciding now was the time to intervene. “I see you two have reached the stage of talking behind my back.” You pipe up, reaching between them to grab a slice of cucumber. Your mother smacks your hand, chitting you for touching the bowl. You laugh and feel Miguel take the hand your mother hit and he kisses the same spot with a teasing smile. You feel your heart flutter and look away shyly.

Your mother pretends not to notice and tries to reach for your plate but you take it before she can. “Alright, c'mon. Time to eat. I know this monumental man is hungry.” Your mother ushers all three of you back to the dining table.

She stops when she sees the small gift-wrapped box on the table. She picks it up curiously. “Is this yours?” She asked Miguel.

He nods and sits next to you after setting his plate down. “Well, it's really for you. I brought something for you.”

The woman sits right across from you two and lets out a small “aww”. 

“You shouldn't have.” She places it to the side. “Oh and we're about to eat.” She laughs, unsure of whether to open the gift or ignore it for food.

“Please, open it. Or don't. Whatever you like.” Miguel chuckles.

She opens the small gift anyway and inside is a simple yet elegant set of earrings and a necklace. Your mother gasps softly, placing a hand over her chest. “Oh, Miguel…” She murmurs, feeling touched that this young man had done everything for her approval when she loved him the moment you talked so fondly of him.  She looks up at him and his hopeful expression. Despite his stress lines and big muscular frame, her mother instincts saw a little boy with big brown eyes. She cups his cheek and pats it gently. “It’s beautiful.” Miguel smiles in relief, letting out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. In that moment, he wouldn’t mind this being his new family with you. He glances at you after your mom begins to pull the necklace out and you beam up at him. “I told you.” You whisper with a scrunch of your nose, teasing him. He chuckles and squeezes your hand. “I guess so.” He murmurs with an adoring look, kissing your temple.

A/N: i love making miguel cute and nervous i feel like we don't get to see that side often <3

[sturniyolos]

can u please do a fic or blurb or like headcannons for !singer reader x chris sturniolo? (i love ur writing omg)

You asked & you shall receive 💖. [thank you for the compliment I love you baby]

Singer!Reader x Bf!Chris

Mentions of SFW + NSFW.

SFW 🪐

- When you told Chris about your plans for an upcoming world tour, this man was already prepared. He had people measuring you for different costumes, already had stadiums on the phone, and even had an RV ready when you guys were still in the US.

“The agency and I are thinking about starting a world tour, but I’m still undecided.” You tell Chris, unsure of how he would feel. You didn’t know if he wanted to come or if he just wanted to stay back with his brothers.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Ma, this is huge for you. I gotta start packing and film pre-made videos. I’ma start calling people, aight?” Chris exclaims, picking you up and kissing your face all over.

“Chris, it’s not official. We were just thinking about it, alright?” You say, grabbing his phone from him to make sure he doesn’t spoil anything as this isn’t the first time Chris told the world about a secret you were planning.

“I’m just sayin’ baby, if you need people, you know who to find.” Chris says, pointing at himself. You scoff and roll your eyes playfully.

- One day at soundcheck, you were feeling a bit overwhelmed. You were on a time crunch and your staff was making you feel more stressed out. Chris in the stands was noticing how you were messing up lines you never mess up. How you were losing your balance and how you kept fiddling with the mic stand. He decided he had enough seeing you like this.

“Y/N, c’mon. We’ve been doing this for almost 30 minutes, let’s get going alright?” Your manager states. You must admit, you were giving everyone a hard time— making the audio guy replay the backtrack maybe 30 million times. You just didn’t know why you kept messing up your favorite note that you did. You started to feel anxious and that’s what made you get less and less confident. You see Chris in the audience chairs stand up. You already felt like shit making everyone’s day longer, and you felt more like shit when [you thought] Chris was over your shit too.

“Hey, I think everyone should take a 15. It’s been a long morning, alright?” Chris grabs your mic and speaks into it while interlocking your hand with his. You look up at him, silently thanking him.

“I don’t think so, she hasn’t gotten-.” Your manager starts to speak.

“Alright, 15 starts now. Be back by 11:30 everyone.” Chris says in the mic, while putting it back in the mic stand. Chris and you make your way backstage as you sit on the couch.

“I don’t know what’s happening, I’m sorry you had to see that. I just don’t-.” You start, almost on the verge of tears.

“Hey, hey. Take a deep breath and relax, okay? You have so much time to prepare. It’s better you take your time and be here all day rather than cramming everything together and not be happy with the performance, aight?” Chris states, holding your check into his hand.

You start leaning into his hand, holding his hand that was on your cheek.

“What would I do without you?” You say, looking into his eyes.

“The real question is, what would I do without Ms. Popstar.” Chris says, leaning in for a kiss.

After Chris’ pep talk, you became more confident and fixed your corrections asap.

- At your concerts, you had intermissions. This is when you would interact with fans, read different posters, or even answer questions. Chris loved being backstage when you got ready, but once you were on the stage, he loved being in the audience. He loved you spotting him and would getting butterflies in his tummy when you smile or even blow a kiss at him.

“Thank you, everyone!” You state into the mic, the audience yelling in return.

“While we do a 15 minute intermission, I want to see the different posters yall made so can we see them please?” You ask the cameraman, and everyone putting up their signs as fast as possible. You try reading the ones in front row first, and you notice Chris holding a sign.

“Can we please have a zoom in on this front row right here?” You state, smiling as you wait for the cameraman to zoom in on the poster.

“I HAVE BLUE EYES & A WHITE JACKET ON. DO YOU THINK WE’D HAVE GOOD BED CHEM?”

You read the poster as Chris is smiling on the side of it. Everyone in the stadium is screaming and even laughing. You start laughing into the mic, making everyone record.

“This guy in the audience is really cute. My manager will have you backstage with me later.” You state, blowing a kiss at him.

As the cameraman is still on Chris, he looks at the camera and blows a kiss at you. You can never get tired of this man.

NSFW 🕸️

- As you were writing in your songbook for your new music, Chris was in your bed, bored and horny out of his mind. He couldn’t deal with the fact that your in the smallest shorts known to man, paired with a crewneck cut on the neckline.

You were writing in your songbook. Erasing after writing after writing after erasing. You hear small footsteps making your way from behind you. You start to feel small kisses on your neck, getting deeper everytime a new kiss begins.

“C’mon baby, I-I’m busy.” You state, rolling your head back as he gets deeper into the kiss.

“Ma, you been here all day.” Chris says, making love bites into your neck.

Chris starts to trail his hand down your waistband of your shorts,

“You really want me to stop?” Chris whispers in your ear, knowing your answer already.

“N-no, please.” You say, easing his hands into your underwear.

“You want me to stop, but you’re soaking?” He says, smiling while doing so.

“Come’ere, I’ll take good care of you.”

You never ended up finishing that song.

- After concerts, you’d be so exhausted and so overworked, but you would never turn down sex with Chris. But this man will never let you do the work, he always wants to make you feel good, even if he doesn’t even cum. He gets pleasure on making you feel good.

Chris lays you on your shared hotel bed. He kisses you deeply as he chokes you softly. You moaning as a result.

“C-Chris, I’m so tired. Please.” You say, in between kisses.

“Did I ask if you were tired?” Chris asks, rubbing his thumb on your bottom lip.

“No, but I don’t want you to be doing all the w-“. You start, but he stops you.

“So, if I didn’t ask, why you worried about it, hm? Let me make you feel good, you did so good today mama.” Chris exclaims, kissing down your neck, to your chest, to your pretty thighs.

Chris starts taking off your bottoms, looking up at you for your okay. You nod as he continues. He begins placing kisses on your clothed cunt, you moaning as a result. He starts pulling down your underwear, leaving your cunt exposed. He pushes your legs against him, so your knees are in a triangle-like shape.

He starts licking your soaking hole, looking up at you. You throw your head back, moaning curse words over and over.

“You like that?” Chris asks, slowly inserting his long, slender fingers into you.

You couldn’t even answer, the pressure being too much and moans were the only thing coming out of your mouth.

“I know ma, I know. You’re being so good, you know that?” He asks, while licking and slurping your pussy even faster.

“Ch-hris, I’m cl-fuck.” You state, putting your hand over your mouth.

“Let me hear you baby, give it to me. Cum in my mouth, you deserve it.” Chris states. And that was your breaking point. As you finish, Chris is still eating you out, trying to get all the juices you have and leave you empty.

You look down as you see Chris wiping his mouth, and make his way to you.

“Sweet as always.” He says, kissing you.

- Right before you got on stage, you and Chris got into a little argument. The argument was so small, yet you were being petty like always. After the concert, you and Chris were just bickering back and forth. One thing led to another, and now your back is arched with Chris fucking you mercilessly.

“Yeah? You wanna act like a brat? Be my fucking guest.” Chris exclaims, grabbing your hands and placing them behind you.

“F-fuck, Chris. Oh my God.” You yell, unable to take his cock anymore.

“C’mon baby. We don’t wanna ruin that pretty little voice, huh? You’re gonna take this shit.” He says, whispering into your ear.

“Imagine what your fans would think about their favorite singer being a brat who likes being used. You like that huh?” Chris asks, pulling your hair so your head goes up from the pillows.

“Chris, p-please. You’re too b-big, fuck.” You state, putting your hands behind you to touch his stomach, trying to make him stop.

“Ion give a fuck mama, take it.” He whispers in your ear, fucking you even faster. The sounds of you struggling, to skin clapping, to Chris’ groaning was all that was heard in the hotel room.

“Gonna fucking cum inside you. Yeah, you want it? You want everyone to know you’re a cumslut, yeah?” Chris says, kissing down your back.

“Chris, I’m sorry fuck.” You say looking back at Chris, making dead eye contact with him.

“No. We gon stay here all night to you learned your lesson, yeah?” Chris states, flipping you guys over so you’re in missionary.

Long story short, the next day when you did your concert, you had to sit in a chair for the duration of it.

——————————————————————————

[bbunivxrse]

AHHH I LOVED UR "HATED HIM" GOJO FIC ITS SO CUTEE🥹 I WANNA SEE A PART 2!! im curious will the reader date gojo or js continue to hate him lmao

❥ IMPROVEMENTS - SATORU GOJO

pairing: gojo x f!reader contents: pt 2 to this fic although you dont need to read it to understand this one. no warnings js fluff here !!! word count: 2.5k on the DOT a/n: HII NONNIE IM SSOOO HAPPY U LIKED IT!!! im sorry this took so long ive been busy with work and exams coming up :( hopefully i can post more often soon :((( ANYWAZ ENJOY

so maybe you don’t hate Satoru Gojo. not anymore. since that moment you shared with him, you thought everything would go back to normal, and for the most part it did. well, you think it did, but everyone else saw the changes clear as day.

as time passed, from an outside perspective it seemed like the two of you suddenly had a… “stable” friendship. both “stable” and “friendship” being used very very loosely. although gojo prefered “happy relationship” and “loving marriage”. the yelling matches (you yelling at gojo while he just sits there and smiles like an idiot) that used to occur multiple times daily went down to only once a day, if at all. you didn’t seem to shoo him away as much or rant about how annoying he is. it was almost like you were warming up to him.

if nobody knew what had happened between the two of you it would’ve seemed like a random switch that went off one day, except everyone did know what happened, cuz gojo’s big mouth went and told everyone the next fucking day. to escape being made fun of to no end, you told everyone you only kissed him so he’d shut up and there was no feelings beyond that, which was half true. the other half of you knew that being all bandaged up by him after a mission gone wrong, sitting in his bed while he tells you how much he cares about you, a man who’d usually piss you off and act all goofy. to see him like that was like a breath of really fresh air and kinda changed the way you saw him.

obviously he was still super annoying and pissed you off, but he seemed to finally get the memo and tuned it down so that it was actually manageable. his laugh was suddenly cuter, his face was less punchable and his flirting was almost starting to fluster you. almost. he still made those stupid comments and monologues for waaayy too long but he got a lot sweeter in his teasing and actions. he somehow found out what your favourite foods and places to eat were and bought you food after long days of school, training sessions and missions and took you to places around tokyo on outings “dates”. your friendship with him was finally tolerable. 

waking up on a sunday morning, you hear the sound of buzzing from your phone on your bedside table. 

incoming call from gojo.

its way too early for him to be bothering you already, but you know very well that if you don’t pick up now he’ll keep calling til you do. you silently curse shoko for giving him your number when he asked her, since he already knew you’d say no to him. “what do you want?” you answer his call, putting the phone to your ear as you sit up in bed. “good morning to you too i guess..” you can hear the pouting in his voice. “what are you up to today??” 

“i’m training a bit with nanami and haibara later.” you check the clock on the table, mentally starting to plan when you’re gonna start getting ready to meet the two of them. “nanami!? why would you train with him!? he doesn’t know anything.” he seemed to completely tune out the second name you mentioned

“he knows more than you.” you laugh at his dramatic gasp over the phone, picturing the look on his face. “whateverrrr. you should train with me instead!” 

“no.” 

“what!? why not?? im soooo much better than him!” you can hear the passion in his voice and you begin to wonder how he can have so much energy so early in the morning, especially on a sunday. “please humble yourself, and i already told nanami i’d train with them anyway.” you glance back at your clock, continuing to consider how long you can stay in bed for. “fiiineee. we can train together next time. what’re you doing after that?” 

“after training i’m gonna…” your voice trails off as you think back to earlier this week, trying to recall if you had made any other plans with anyone for today. “not doing anything later. i’m probably gonna go back to my dorm.” you confessed, forgetting exactly who you were on the phone with. “oh so you’re free later? perfect! we sh-“ 

“no, i’m not free. i’m going back to my dorm gojo. and i’m staying there. all day.” you make sure to give him the details of your plan to stay in your room so he doesn’t have any wiggle room to plan anything. “hmmmm.. okay! ill just come over then!” 

“what?? n-“ 

“cyalaterbye!!” you hear the phone beep as he hangs up, now looking down at your lock screen. 'god he’s sooo annoying.'

getting out of bed after looking down at your clock again, you decide you have more than enough time to watch a bit of the show you’ve been catching up on. maybe about two and a half episodes?

checking the time halfway through the first episode, you decide you’re not in the mood to continue watching and you’ll watch a movie instead after training. you get up and begin getting ready for the scheduled training session you had, lightly fixing up your hair so you looked presentable and throwing on your uniform before heading out. 

training with nanami and haibara went well, and you were all surprised gojo didn’t show up to bother you but you figured he was busy with his own thing. coming home you immediately threw your uniform onto the floor and went to take a shower, feeling all gross and sweaty. ‘ill pick it up later.’

you turn the water on, allowing it to get hot before stepping into the shower. you decided to use your favourite body wash that smelled like heaven in a bottle, the scent filling up the entire bathroom and making all the air around you smell like your favourite fragrance. you linger in the shower for a bit, the hot water feeling therapeutic against your skin. once you were done you headed back to your room, throwing on some comfy flared sweats and a random tank top from your wardrobe. looking in the mirror, the outfit was surprisingly cute, and really comfortable.

in a good mood from the nice shower and already feeling pretty after only putting on some  random clothes, you decided to have fun and do some light makeup. maybe you’ll run a few errands later? you were a bit low on snacks at the moment.

finishing off your makeup with a pretty lipgloss, you look in your little snack drawer to see what you had left. some gum, a few candies and one bag of your favourite chips you’re planning to save. maybe it was time to restock. 

you throw on a light jacket and grab your bag, gathering your essentials and getting your shoes on before leaving your dorm. you decided to go to the little convenience store only a few minutes away since they had all the snacks you like. 

within a few minutes you made it to the store, picking out a bunch of snacks and candies you liked. as you were looking at the new flavours of candy they had, the bell by the door jingled as someone entered the store. “y/n!!” you heard a familiar voice behind you. “why are you here?? you said you were staying in your dorm. all day.” gojo mocks the tone you used with him on the phone earlier. “i changed my mind. why are you here?” 

“satoru wanted to get some candy on the way home.” suguru appears from behind him, giving you a smile and a polite wave. “hmm.. they have a nice selection here, what do you think i should get?” gojo puts a hand to his chin as he looks through all the candies. “the sour green apple candy from this brand is really good. and the lemon flavour too, they’re my favourites.” you say as you point to the candies. “then they’re my favourites too,” gojo immediately picks up two of each flavour you recommended, before picking a few other candies he knows you like.

“you do not need all that sweetness. think about your health.” suguru grimaces at the amount of sweets in gojos hands. “i’m not gonna eat all of it! do you really think that low of me? i’m sharing with my girlfriend.” he plops his purchase on the counter for the cashier, smiling down at you “and i’m still coming over,” 

“i didnt agree to that, nor do you have girlfriend.” 

“don’t care,” gojo shrugs as he takes his bag full of your favourite candies, cheerfully skipping out the door followed by you and suguru. the two of you followed as he happily pranced down the street and back to school. 

“you’re really not gonna leave me alone?” 

“nope!” you and gojo stand outside your dorm as he waits for you to unlock the door. you sign at his persistence, grabbing your keys from your bag and opening the door. he had never actually been in your dorm before so this was like a new world to him. “kinda messy in here. you needa clean up a bit y/n” gojo steps inside as if it were his own house, yet looks around at your space as if he were at a museum. “do you ever shut up? and take your shoes off. don’t step on my nice carpet. if it gets dirty i will kill you.” 

“yes ma’am.” he obeyed as if his life was truly in danger. you take off your own shoes, putting your jacket and bag away before plopping yourself on your bed. you watch gojo pace around your small dorm room, picking up random objects to inspect before humming and placing it back down. you know he should be monitored carefully while in proximity of your stuff but you really can’t be bothered to babysit right now and just allow him to stimulate himself.

after a few minutes of replying to missed texts from a few of your friends, you hear gojo sigh, dropping the bag of candy on the floor and placing his glasses alongside the makeup you put on earlier. you realize he hadn’t said a word for those few minutes. “you’re being too silent, what are yo-“ gojo fully drops himself on top of you, his hard head hitting your chest so hard you swear you heard a rib crack. “holy fucking shit you fatass, get off me!! you’re heavy.” you try to push him off you but he doesn’t budge. “but ‘m tired baby,” he whines as he made himself more comfortable on top of you. “i will kill you.” 

“m‘kay..” gojo yawns, wrapping his arms around you. now you’re stuck, great. you honestly didn’t think the word ‘tired’ existed in gojo’s vocabulary since he somehow always has energy. you had never seen him sleep before, which sounds somewhat normal until you remember the overnight trips and missions you and your classmates went on frequently, where gojo never slept. or he never let anyone see him sleep. you didn’t really realize it until now, with him on your chest already seeming close to knocking out.

as much as it annoyed you that you couldn’t get up to eat the candy he’d bought for the two of you to have, you figured if you woke him up he’d just bother the shit out of you until you let him sleep again, and you honestly realize how cute he is when he’s quiet. sighing in defeat, you open up your laptop that you had left on your bed earlier and throw on a movie you had already wanted to watch today. “hm..? what’s that?” gojo mumbles as he’s half asleep. “the movie suguru recommended me the other day. the one about the samurai?” 

“ohhh.” gojo turns his head away from the screen to rest on the other side of his head “that one sucks. and the main character dies.” 

“ugh, spoiler warning next time??” you flick the top of his head as he laughs. you scroll through the selection of movies on the site, humming occasionally while adding interesting movies to your watch later list. eventually you find a random movie that you had never heard of but it looks interesting enough and decide to watch it. the large boy laying on top of you turns his head back to the screen once he hears the new film playing. this time he doesn’t say anything, but you notice his eyes struggling to stay open as he yawns literally every waking minute.

“gojo why don’t you go back to your dorm to sleep? you can barely keep your eyes open,” you giggle at him as he tries to look offended but clearly doesn’t have to energy to. “mn-mm. ‘m watchin… with my wife.” he yawns mid sentence. “well i’m not your wife, soooo…” 

“you are my wife… we’re married… you remember.”  you know he normally only says stuff like that to get under your skin, but sometimes it sounds like he truly believes it, which is a bit scary. you can’t even pay attention to the movie with how hard you’re contemplating to get him off you and in his own bed, but it seems there’s truly no solution. he’s a freakishly tall and muscular man with 100% of his body weight on top of you, so you obviously can’t push him off. and he clearly wont willingly get up, and you know you can’t convince him to get up, so you begin to accept that you might actually be stuck here. 

“ill let you stay if you grab the bag of candy for me,” gojo seems to be too tired to remember that there’s nothing you can do to force him to leave and he easily could’ve refused. he lazily throws the bag onto the bed beside you before plopping himself right back where he was before. “now lemme stay.” you roll your eyes instinctively, grabbing the bag and picking out one of the candies gojo had picked for you. he lets out one last yawn before allowing his tiredness to consume him.

as you open up the sweets and start eating, you look down at gojo. you never really took a moment to actually realize how pretty he really is, and especially how cute he looks while he sleeps. as creepy as that sounds. you think it’s because his mouth is finally shut and he’s not saying the most annoying sentences he can come up with, or constantly blabbering to you about stuff you never asked him about and have no interest in. you honestly didn’t mind this heavy man peacefully asleep on top of you as you eat candy and watch a movie. it was quite nice, actually. maybe you’ll start to allow gojo to do things like this more often. 

i really had no idea how to end this :SOB: but it turned out well i hope. pls send requests btw i have ZERO idea what to write neext

[wnbnny]

happiness looks good on you- lee felix

summary: you love felix, but he doesn't love you back.

warnings: sad ending, angst!

author's notes: hi everyone<3 this is my first fic, kinda wrote this at like 3am on a whim instead of sleeping but like😭 idk why i made this so sad (is this a sign im depressed or something) but hope u enjoy!! please to comment ur user if u want to be tagged in this or my future posts<3

"happiness looks good on you."

raging storms and unshed tears.

"happiness looks good on you."

heartbreak and rainy days.

"hurry up lix, we're going to be late," you complained, brow furrowed as you stuck your bottom lip out in a pout.

"if you really want to go to school that early just walk there yourself." felix taunted, knowing you were scared to walk alone. he was your long-term best friend, inseparable since kindergarten 'til today.

the two of you argued and bickered on the way to school, throwing insults at each other. by the time the both of you had gotten to school, you were both given a scolding and told to sit down. you glared at him as you were being scolded while he just snickered.

the audacity of this man, honestly . 

by the time class had finished, you had cooled down, just like felix knew you would. otherwise, he could just stick out his bottom lip while you huffed and pretended to be mad. 

"y/n!" he gasped, clutching at your arm, "areum just looked at me!"

he squealed, like a little kid at the toy shop, over his long time crush.

if only you looked at me in that way.

because i do.

"nah, she probably was just looking at someone else." you lied through your teeth, feeling your heart sink.

"hey, stop being mean!! she clearly looked at me," he pouted.

you sighed.

i've loved you for years and you've never noticed.

"well just confess to her already then."

it was painful watching your own crush and best friend fall for someone else, someone that wasn't you. 

you wished, rather selfishly, that areum would reject him. then you could be the shoulder he would cry on. not her. but honestly, you couldn't bring yourself to hate her. what was to hate? she was pretty, got good marks, and was friendly and easygoing. not to say you yourself weren't pretty, but you just weren't as pretty and hardworking as her. 

and you weren't the one he wanted. 

maybe the pain would end if they just ended up together and you were out of the picture. it was obvious she liked him too. 

"you really think i should? but what if i get rejected..."

you're so blind but i still love you.

"yes, how many times do i have to say this, she likes you. it's obvious." you rolled your eyes.

"should i just confess tomorrow? better late than never..." he trailed off, worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth.

gods you look so cute when you do that.

"yeah. get her some flowers and write her a note."

why were you breaking your own heart? you didn't know why. maybe you just wanted to end your own heartbreak. 

"good luck with that, anyways i need to go to s house for a project." you actually didn't, but you would do anything to just escape from this.

"why~~are you really just going to leave me alone to plan my big confession by myself," he whined.

"sorry lix, but you'll figure it out." ruffling his hair, you walked out the classroom.

you did, in fact, go home. then sat on your bed and cried until you couldn't  physically squeeze any more tears out of you.  so this was what heartbreak felt like. you had known him since the both of you were ten. you had have multiple crushes here and there, but they were just passing, fleeting moments, nothing of importance. until him.

you didn't know when you had first started to like him. maybe it was that time in the library where he was helping the librarian stack books. maybe it was that time in the rain where he danced in it for hours. 

maybe it was one summer day where your world just exploded in colours. 

and now it felt like it was fading back to grey.

the next day, felix came bouncing up to you.

"i got her peonies, do you think she'll like it? i told her to meet me in the garden."

"yeah, she'll definitely like it. i would've too... " you muttered the last part all to yourself, turning away and blinking rapidly as tears threatened to prick your eyes. you offered him a smile of encouragement. 

"good luck."

when lunch came, you watched as the nervous australian carried the peonies and went to the garden.

then you watched as they walked in ten minutes later, smiling bashfully and holding hands like schoolchildren in love. 

because they were.

you went home, not even bothering to call in sick. you just grabbed your bag and went home. you would deal with the consequences later. 

your heart hurt.

you were numb.

you were hollow.

you were crying.

you hated everything.

the next few days were spent at home. you called in sick. felix texted you countless times but you ignored him.

lixie&lt;3

y/nie?

where r u?

she accepted!!!

im so happy>.<

read at 2:03 a.m.

yeah, right. good for you. but what about me?

lixie&lt;3

...hello?

y/n?

can u please respond...

im worried...

what happened???

why didn't you come to school today??

read at 3:46 p.m.

you turned off your phone then turned over and cried again. you hated this. why did you have to fall for him in the first place?

finally, after four days of missed calls, texts, and school, you had to go back. its not like you had a choice anyways. you missed your parents. they lived overseas though, so you lived alone. but you really couldn't continue living like this for the rest of your life, even if you wanted to.

"y/nie!!!" felix exclaimed, running up to you. "why didn't you respond to my texts? are you okay? it's unlike you..."

"im sorry lix, i was just under the weather. im ok." you offered him a tight lipped smile. "congrats by the way." you closed your locker door and rushed off before he could ask you anything more.

"huh? thats unlike her... why is she acting so weird lately?" 

and so you avoided him, as much as you could. you kept your conversations short and brief, not talking to him as much as possible, and even switching seats to sit far away from him. you watched his hurt face the day he walked in and saw you sitting somewhere else, but then cheering up as areum sat next to him. you watched as he laughed and held hands, ate tteokbokki and ramen with her in the cafeteria. that should've been me.

but honestly, it did nothing to fill the felix-sized hole in your heart.

you drifted apart. he barely texted you now, barely said hi to you, barely even saw you in the hallways anymore. 

then exams were finished, and graduation started to roll around. 

you watched as they attended prom and twirled around on the dance floor giggling.

you watched as they broke up on the doorstep of his dorms, watching as felix's face fell when she dumped him for another guy.

you didn't have the heart to tell him i told you so.

so you busied yourself in your exams, earning a scholarship to your dream university. felix tried reaching out to you several times to rekindle your old friendship, but you would always politely decline, preferring to be detached instead of going through more heartbreak.

you still loved him, but the once burning passion had now been reduced to a soft flicker every now and then, sparking ever so slightly whenever you saw him in the corridors. your own felix-shaped hole in your heart hadn't decreased over the years, but your heart became bigger, expanding so that other people could fit in it. the hole would always be there, but at least there was space for healing.

you turned around in the backseat of your friends' car to see the campus you had once called home fading away into the distance and felix along with it.

goodbye, the wind whispered.

"happiness looks good on you, lix. i hope you make the best of it."

[hwayangyeon]

i have an idea for chapter 2 of actor hee x actress y/n. Like after the stuff in the bathroom, they are back to the special party later n there’s another actress approaching and doing some intimate hessture with him, and ofc our rizzseung will flirt back with her (just for fun). Afterwards y/n will be upset and try to get him back(maybe by some suggestive ways). Then he will pull u in his car and punish u for being needy in public (party). Eventually they date offically, no more situationship. That’s my idea but u can write in ur own plot and i still be your sustainable supporter 🫶🏻 sorry for any errors in grammar or vocab cuz english is not my mother language

thank you so much for your ask, sunshine <3 i actually got two requeste for the second part and i love both ideas so i decided to squeeze both of them here. also your english is amazing, don't worry <3

so combining your ask, and one of my commenters' request about needy heeseung knocking on y/n's door, here we have:

pt. 2 of this fic (i recommend reading it first) // pt.3 here

NSFW ex bf actor heeseung x actress reader // heeseung hasn't fucked you enough so he's fucking you more (during met gala) // teasing, slightly rough car sex -> needy heeseung, oral sex m!receiving // 2.1k words sorry

after you kicked heeseung out of the restroom, you could clean yourself up and make yourself not look like you just got railed in a public space. thankfully that was also the last time you saw him, the rest of the gala was peaceful.

because some of the photographers and interviewers leaving, it was easier to get back to the hotel, change clothes, retouch the makeup (especially the lipstick that heeseung smudged), and get ready for the after-party.

you allowed yourself to get one drink. usually, you try to stay as sober as possible during this kind of event, it's easier to spot the paparazzis and avoid scandals, you really did not want to go through another dating scandal this year too.

on your way to order a martini, you noticed heeseung sitting at the bar. great. you were too naive to think that you won't see him again today.

but wait, he's not sitting alone, there's a woman beside him.

"what the fuck?" you said under your breath while watching how he looks her up and down with his bambi eyes, giving her the sweetest smile.

you're not jealous, but you did not risk getting caught in that bathroom for him to hit on another girl now.

fine, two actors can play this role.

you walked to the left side of the bar to find a perfect spot where heeseung can see you flirting with the guy who has already had too much to drink.

"hey," you brushed his thigh, causing him to wake up from his drunken sleep immediately.

"hey there, beautiful," you did not know him, nor was he your type but he'll do for your get back at heeseung plan.

"you're so funny," you were saying whatever, the actual play was moving your hair away from your exposed cleavage and leaning slightly towards him, laughing as if he just told you the funniest joke on earth.

it worked. heeseung was now shooting darts with his eyes in your direction, missing the bartender's head by an inch.

it took him a second to leave the girl and appear next to you, firmly grab your hand and drag you out of the room. he guided both of you to the parking lot. it was a little cool outside, so he put his arm around you, still dragging you somewhere, still not saying anything.

he's not really the jealous type, he always gets what he wants, but he did not make you moan his name a few hours ago for you to laugh at another man's jokes.

you blindly followed him into his manager's car and he closed the door behind you.

"what the fuck, y/n?"

"what? did i interrupt your conversation with the blonde?" you were happy with how well your plan went.

"she's a director's daughter, i was trying to-"

"you don't have to fuck a director's daughter to get a role, heeseung."

"you're the only one i’m fucking tonight," he smirked. come on, y/n, why are you heating up from that cheesy text?

"i'm leaving," you wanted to go but he pushed you back onto the car seats.

the cold leather touched your skin and the freezing feeling made you arch your back, which he took advantage of and put his arm under it, sliding you down so your crotch met his knee. he moved it even closer when bending down to you.

"i thought i fucked you enough already, but you're still so needy," he started sucking on your neck, "you could've just said so, i can go another round."

"fuck. hee, don't, please-"

"what?" he bit your skin, "already having trouble forming sentences? i haven't even taken my dick out yet."

"no hickeys, please," it will be so hard to cover these in the morning.

"too late." he laughed into your ear softly, "i should have marked you earlier."

fuck. you were trying so hard not to grind on his leg, but he was too close and the feeling on your core felt too good too.

his lips were devouring your neck, jaw, chin as if he couldn't get enough of you. only then you noticed his scent. his perfumes... smelled like the ones you bought for him back in high school.

"i see you're enjoying yourself," he stopped kissing you and you both looked at the wet spot you left on his thigh. fuck, how embarrassing, "but you weren't a good girl, y/n."

he grabbed your jaw aggressively, almost using it as support to lift himself up. he loved touching your face, how soft your skin felt under his hands, how red your cheeks got if his hold was too strong.

"and bad girls aren't treated well," he started unzipping his pants.

he put his two fingers into your mouth, "wanted to say something?"

no matter how much experience you've got as an actress, no role could've taught you to lie that you didn't miss this side of him. there was no point in trying to kill his ego.

you moved your head to the side, trying to talk despite the obstacles, "please, fuck me."

oh you had no idea how long he's waited to hear that. so much blood rushed into his dick, and you wouldn't have seen the shining precum drop from it if it weren't for that street lamp next to the vehicle.

he took off your panties quickly, not caring that he almost made you fall off the seats, and pushed his dick inside you, granting himself that beautiful moan he kept thinking about while talking with that blonde girl.

his thrusts so deep and rough, he made it feel like a punishment. but was it a punishment if you wanted to get it?

he leaned towards you once again, grabbing your neck with one hand and covering the top of your head with another so you don't bump it on the car's door whenever he slams you with his dick.

no one could manhandle you as he does, he knows exactly how hard he has to choke you for you to see stars and still feel him stretch you out.

your nails have been scratching his back for some time now, let's hope he doesn't have to record any shirtless scenes anytime soon.

you could feel that familiar knot in your abdomen, your climax was close.

"do you hear that clicking?" he says almost out of breath, "are you kicking something with your heels?"

"what? no," you close your eyes from the pleasure, "are you?"

he gives you a few more thrusts, then stops suddenly without any warning and looks behind himself, "shit!"

"what?" you asked calmly, still riding off the feeling.

"the paparazzi," he pushed down your dress, helped your unaware self sit up, and jumped to the driver's seat to start the engine.

"the paparazzi..?" he fucked you dumb, "fuck, heeseung!" you tried to cover yourself with the jacket he had left you, "how could you not check for them?!"

"i did!" he drove out of the parking lot and tried to find the second entry to the hotel.

thankfully the windows of the car were tinted, but if anyone saw the two of you get inside the car, they would get the idea of what was happening there.

he dropped you off at the back entrance of the hotel, mouthed a quiet "sorry," and went to park the car somewhere else.

fucking lee heeseung.

———

it was maybe two hours later when you heard knocking on your hotel room's door. you were in the middle of doing your skincare, trying not to lose your mind thinking about what happened before.

"y/n, i'm sorry," he knocked again.

"go away, heeseung," you yelled from the bathroom while applying moisturizer.

"please, let me in," he's not gonna let you rest if you don't open that goddamn door.

the second you unlocked it, he opened it and got inside.

"i didn't set that up, y/n," you could see that he was feeling guilty, even though it probably wasn't his fault.

fuck, you didn't want any scandals.

"it's... okay," you went to sit on your bed, he followed you and kneeled in front of you.

he looked up at you with his beautiful doe eyes, lips in a small pout and you couldn't resist but touch his hair, revealing his forehead.

"for the record, i think you'd look stunning in those pho-"

"oh fuck you, heeseung," you wanted to stand up but he grabbed your legs, making you sit back down.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he kissed the inner side of your thigh, and wanted to go higher but you moved back on the bed, making space for him to go after you.

he followed you like a cat and laid down between your legs. he didn't break eye contact for a second. he's looking at you in the sweetest way possible as if he didn't fuck the shit out of you twice that day already. shit, it's making you blush.

he easily read your mind because he smirked and went back to kissing your thighs.

"isn't this the best met gala you've been to?" he asked.

"it might be."

"is it because of me?"

"no, the food's better than last year. maybe they hired a new chef."

he shot his head up, his look way different than the one he was giving you a second ago.

he wanted to sit up but you grabbed his chin, "don't act like you didn't come here because you have blue balls," making him take your place and now you were sitting between his legs.

"i needed to see you," he put his hand on your head.

"yeah, i can tell," you commented the tent in his pants.

you pulled them down enough for his dick to jump out. it was already so hard and warm. you touched it and it twitched at the coldness of your hand, "sorry," you mouthed.

only you know how to work him up like that for him to uncontrollably bite his lips and grab the sheets, almost taking them off the bed.

the way your tongue licked his full length sent a shiver down his spine, the way you sucked on his tip really made it hard for him to breathe.

you looked up to see him watch you through his half-closed eyes, poor baby.

"wanted to say something?" you decided to tease him while stroking his dick with your hand.

he smiled knowing well that you were playing with him, "please."

you finally used your entire mouth and he couldn't help but slightly move his hips to get his member to go deeper down your throat. god, you were making him feel so good.

"fuck, y/n-" his quiet moans filled your whole room, the higher they got, the closer he was, "i'm gonna-"

you opened your mouth so he can see how his liquid stays on your tongue and how you swallow it after. you look so pretty while doing that.

he pulled you closer to kiss your swollen lips and brushed off your hair that got stuck in saliva on your chin.

today was a very busy day. for interviewers having to interview so many celebrities and for... other people. it was only natural for you to fall asleep in each other's arms.

———

not fully awake you could feel the sun on your face. it was a nice, warm feeling. then it stopped, maybe it was just a cloud passing by. it didn't seem to be coming back, so you opened one eye. it was heeseung sitting at the other side of the bed, covering the sunlight.

"shit," he swore quietly, trying not to wake you up.

"heeseung, what are you doing?" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

"nothing!" he was shocked to hear you. that's strange.

"heeseung. what are you doing?" you repeated yourself, trying to get out of the bed covers.

"it's nothing, don't worry." he wanted to stand up but you managed to grab his phone.

it took your eyes a second to focus. he was about to post a tweet saying that both of you are happily dating.

"what the fuck, heeseung?!" you tried to yell, but your voice still hasn't warmed itself up.

"wait!" he took his phone, clicked something on it, and showed it back to you, "look."

it was a photo of you leaving the after-party together and getting into the car. great.

you fell on the bed, groaning.

"what's up, girlfriend, are you hungry? do you want me to bring you food?"

"don't call me that."

he laid down next to you and kissed your neck, "but you are my girlfriend. you don't believe the headlines?"

"ask me on a date first," you pushed him off of you.

after hotel.

pt3. here