#I don’t even care who it’s about anymore

[kiyoomiee]

Your bestfriend, Yuuji’s older half-brother Sukuna, who always had this grudge towards you and you can’t pinpoint why.

You first met him during summer break. Your couldn’t keep up with your dorm fees anymore and happened to mention it to Yuuji one time.

“You could stay with me! I have a spare room nobody’s using.”

“Are you sure Yuuji? I don’t want to impose on you.”

“Of course I’m sure. You don’t even have to pay rent or anything.”

A home that’s close to uni and has no fees? It was heaven sent for a broke college student!

“That’s the last of them. Thank you Yuuji, I really appreciate the help. If there’s anything I could do around here just let me know.” You told him after dropping your stacking your last moving box into your new room.

“No problem. Just a heads up though, my brother also lives with me. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, it’s fine with me.” Your famous last words.

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

“Sukuna can be..difficult sometimes. But it’d be nice if you two would be friends. If not, ehh, just avoid him if you can.”

You should’ve headed the red flags when Yuuji tried to warn you about his brother.

To say that Sukuna had a bad day at the tattoo shop was an understatement. His new assistant never arrived, he was dealing with a shit client plus, his ink almost ran out.

His frustration echoed throughout the two-storey house when he slammed the front door shut.

He was confused by the smell coming from the kitchen as he walked in. Is Yuuji cooking? Nah, his idiot brother would burn the house down if he even tried to get near the kitchen.

Instead, he finds a woman’s figure busy behind the kitchen counter. It made him stop his tracks.

Beautiful, he thought. But too young for Sukuna’s taste. Plus, he doesn’t like it when a stranger touches his favorite spot in the house.

So great, his bad day is about to become worse.

“Who. The. Fuck. Are you?” You almost screamed when your eyes went to the man that appeared behind you.

He looked similar to Yuuji, but the aura was very different. His build was larger, jaw sharper, and he had looked furious.

Oh, he must be Yuuji’s brother, Sukuna. You tensed up unintentionally while his eyes wandered on what you’re wearing.

“You one of Yuuji’s girls? I told him not to bring his hookups here.” He uttered, eyes not leaving yours.

You wore a tank top with cotton pajama shorts. You looked too comfortable just to be visiting.

“No! I-I’m Yuuji’s friend. It’s nice to meet you.” You said nervously.

“Can’t say the same sweetheart. I’m not so fond of strangers in my house. So open the front door and walk outside.”

What? Is he kicking you out?

“Wait! Yuuji didn’t tell you? He allowed me to stay at the spare room down the hall.”

“He what?” Sukuna was fuming. Every step he took closer to you looked like he was going to eat you alive.

“YUUJI!” His voice thundered all over the house.

“I-I think he’s sleeping in his room.” You winced at the string of curses that came out of his mouth.

“Whatever conversation you had with my dumb brother, it’s not happening. You can’t stay here.”

“But it’s the start of the semester, I can’t find a new dorm in a snap!”

“You shouting at me, girl?”

“N-No, I mean-just please, I can take care of the house. I can even cook for you. I can’t afford to leave, not right now.”

Before Sukuna could open his mouth, Yuuji’s footsteps rang out from the stairs.

“Sukuna, you’re back! Wait, did something happen?” Yuuji looks at your nervous face.

“Yeah we’ve met alright.” Sukuna muttered, arms crossing to his chest.

“Yuuji, your brother’s kicking me out.” You tried to hide behind Yuuji’s form.

“What? You can’t kick her out!”

“I can because it’s my goddamn house. If don’t want some girl in here, she’s got to go.”

“You can’t! To be fair, I did tell you that my friend’s staying with us for a while and you agreed.”

Yeah he did agree but he thought that black haired kid was moving in, not you.

“Oh, for fucks sake,” Sukuna exclaimed and you could tell he’s about to lose it.

“I’ll stay out of your way all the time, I promise. You won’t even notice I’m here.” You pleaded him.

“Yeah, I doubt that. Clean up your damn mess.” He said harshly and glared at you before stomping his way upstairs.

“I’m so sorry. My brother’s not so good at making first impressions.” Yuuji pouted.

He’s an asshole, you wanted to say.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad he didn’t kick me out.” You exhaled in relief.

If that was his reaction during your first meeting then what about the upcoming months?

“He won’t. I’m sure you’ll grow on him, you kinda have that effect on people.” Yuuji tried to cheer you up but you just gave him a faint smile.

Yeah, somehow you doubt that would work on Sukuna.

——————————————————

note: Sukuna is 29 in this fic and your age gap is 6 years. I don’t like doing age gap with minors, so just think that everyone in this fic are 18+.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

I'll Always Be Here

Sylus x Y/N - drabble - 867 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, implied nudity, soft Sylus, taking care of him

------------------------------------

Sylus leaned on the doorway, watching you lay in bed. You hadn’t left the bed in days and he was starting to seriously worry about you. 

“Kitten,” he said softly as he walked to the bed to sit on the edge. “You need to get up… just for a little bit… take a bath, eat something.” he said.

You didn’t move, didn’t even make a sound. He sighed. As much as he didn’t want to, he decided it was for your best; he gently pulled the blankets off before picking you up bridal style. Your eyes were devoid of emotion, looking glazed over and unfocused. He turned on the water with one hand, dumping a little soap in as well which bubbled quickly. He set you on the counter, his touch was light as he took your clothes off. You didn’t look at him but you didn’t resist him either. The water steamed and bubbled just the way he knew you liked; he picked you up and placed you in, his arms staying wrapped around you until you were gently laid all the way down. You wrapped your arms around yourself. It was the first time Sylus had seen you move in days. He leaned his head on his arms which were resting on the side of the tub.

“I feel so numb Sylus.” you whispered, still not looking at him. Silent tears fell from your already puffy eyes. 

He perked up at the sound of your voice, not hearing it for the last three days. It was a bittersweet feeling. He always loved hearing you talk but when you said such damning things it broke his heart. 

“Like I don’t want to be here anymore.” you mumbled before slipping down in the tub to rest completely on the bottom. Everything felt peaceful here, quiet and weightless. You could see how concern covered his face. You hated falling into these lows, they made you hopeless and desperate for an end to life. It was the easiest and most permanent option your brain could think of. When the need for air was too much you rose out of the water, resting against the tub again. “I’m scared of myself Sy…” 

His eyes were soft, pleading with you. “I know honey… and I wish I could do something about it. But I'll tell you this,” he said, sliding his hand to hold your face reassuringly, “I am a selfish man - so I will do everything in my power to help you, keep you safe and happy. You are all that matters to me. Whatever you want, it’s yours.” he said.

You leaned into his palm, tears and sobs leaving you. You curled into him, half in the tub and half out. His crisp white shirt soaked through but he couldn’t care less as his strong arms wrapped around you. He nestled his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in deeply. He hadn’t touched you in days, he felt so touch starved he never wanted to leave your arms. “I’ll always be here for you. To keep you and love you always.” he said into your neck before placing a soft kiss right below your ear. 

You tightened your hold on him. You don’t know how or why the universe brought such opposite people together, much less made them fall madly in love but who were you to question it? All you were in this moment was grateful. You weren't in this alone anymore, Sylus was the light you needed, whenever you needed him.

He let go of you before moving to get the washcloth and bar of soap. Neither of you spoke as he washed your body or scrubbed the suds into your hair. Every touch was deliberate and delicate. You felt yourself feel slightly less heavy, a little more… human. 

When the bath was tepid and your fingers started to prune Sylus helped you step out before wrapping you in a towel. You walked back into the bedroom, Sylus holding your waist just for the comfort of knowing he was there. As you dried off he went to the closet before returning with one of his massive shirts and a pair of underwear for you. Once dressed you slowly slid back into the bed.

Sylus sighed quietly, he was proud you bathed, talked, and moved today; he didn’t want to push it. He leaned down, kissing your forehead. “I’m going to get you some food and water, I’ll be right back.” he said, thumbing over your cheek. 

You turned on the tv, flipping on a favorite comedy of yours to try and cheer yourself up. Sylus returned after a moment, setting down multiple different snacks before handing you a bottle of water. He took his shirt and dress pants off before climbing into bed in his boxers. You instinctively scooted into his arms, his warmth radiating off him, enveloping you completely. His steady heart beat and his hand massaging your scalp lulled you to sleep. A restful sleep unlike the despair sleeps you had been having so regularly. 

Sylus kissed your head, keeping you close. Trying to protect you from anything and everything, including yourself.

----------------------------

Naboo's Note:

I hope ya'll enjoy, I've been pretty down in the dumps as of late and I'd love for this man to just comfort the shit out of me rn. I love ya'll so much and I'll post again soon. Stay safe and be well :) XOXOXOXOXOX!!!!!!!!!

[bunni-v1]

smilk winning the pettiest jealous bitch award every year until beast yeast 8 cuz the man dead ass is just "yeah doll it's just a test :)" but the second you start getting close to truthless recluse he's just ">:( no I don't like this anymore"

we're just befriending your other half bro!! u wanted this and you're mad about it!! little bitch (affectionately)!!

i love my petty husband-

(also, your honor, was the "remembering who you belong to" thing a hit to jealous intercourse?? 🙏 cuz i love that 👀 love to hear more about that if ur in the mood, if not, ignore this lmfao)

MDNI!!!

Ohhhh, Shadow Milk is a jealous petty little bitch, and he knows it too! He really wants you two to get along, it’s great! Until it isn’t…

Oooo seeing you being so sweet on Truthless Recluse really makes him feverish. You were his little dolly, so why were you so sweet to some other cookie? You should be giving him all that attention! It’s not right! You know who you belong to, don’t you?

You’ve got that bite on the back of your neck, is that not enough? The tug and burn of his annoyance should’ve reminded you, but… Well. If you need the reminder, he’s more than happy to give it to you! Just be a good little cookie and he’ll take care of you <3

But seriously, he doesn’t really cause a fuss, mostly pouting and grumbling, UNTIL you touch Truthless Recluse. Just a brush of the hand was all it was, nothing with any meaning, but oh did it set him off. He was patient! Kind! Benevolent even! But you crossed a line with that one, and he won’t tolerate your actions any longer.

You are swooped up off your feet and transported to your shared bedroom within a fraction of a second. Having been with him for so long, you already know where this is going, so you don’t bother fighting him. But jealous sex with Shadow Milk Cookie is something entirely different than the norm.

What you think will be a regular session turns into something else entirely. Not only does he intend to remind you just who’s you are, he means to show Truthless Recluse that as well.

He’ll tie you up and blindfold you, which isn’t strange by any means. He likes forcing you to use your sense of touch, heightens the experience and really makes you squeal like he wants. All the while he’s playing it nice and cool, jealousy not quite bubbling over for the sake of the performance.

He runs his hands all across your body, leaving goosebumps in their wake. His mouth following to leave marks all across your pretty dough, nipping a few bites where he can. He pointedly avoids touching you where you need him most, though. Knowing better than to give you what you want right away, lest he ruin the fun for himself.

He gets you positively squirming beneath him, then, he stops. Not only does he stop, leaving you whiny and flustered, but he leaves. He leaves you tied up and dripping and alone. It’s a cruel punishment you’d never experienced from him before, and it nearly makes you cry until you hear his pleasant little giggle.

“Ohhh, did you think I left you all alone? Poor thing… you know better than that, dolly~” He’ll coo, returning right back to where he was before.

He’s a bit more aggressive about his ministrations now, leaving bites that leak jam and are sure to scar. Licking up the wounds with a kindness that gives you whiplash, until finally that sinful mouth of his reaches right where you need it.

With practiced precision, he swallows you whole, forked tongue working over you like a dream. It knows all the right spots, moving across your most needy areas and leaving you weak and breathless. He goes and goes until you reach the edge, and then he pulls away like he always does.

He lingers a moment longer, though, and you feel his eyes burn into you from his place. You wonder if this time he’ll just give you what you like, but instead you feel a sharp pain shoot up from where he just left. A shout of surprise forces it’s what out of your lungs, and before you can process what he’s done, he’s already licking away to soothe the bite on your most sensitive areas.

“Did you just bite me?” You accused.

He snickers like a delighted kid, “What? Not into it?”

Aching and huffy, you grumble out a ‘no.’ Though it was certainly more pleasant than you’d like to admit, you’d prefer to be told before he tries something like that.

“Well…” He purrs, and you feel him crawl onto the bed, positioning himself nicely between your legs. His eager member is already free, and like it has a mind of its own, is rubbing against your inner thigh in a sort of apology. “Lemme make it up to you then, hmm?”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he is pushing into you. It tears a moan out of your lips, never quite used to how odd he feels the first time he enters. You swear he can expand the damn thing on command with how it fills you, rubbing all the right places at all the right times.

He’s kind enough to let you adjust, though you know he doesn’t have to be. The damn thing squirms excitedly inside you anyway, negating the whole point of his waiting. Maybe he just liked watching it press up against your stomach, or maybe… something else was going on. Before you can mull on it too much, he moves his hips in a brutal thrust.

It nearly knocks the wind out of you, pushing yet another surprised noise from your mouth. He giggles to himself at the sound, making his next thrust even harder to draw it out again, and again, and again, and again, until you can’t think straight. Each harsh thrust is another reminder that he’ll be carrying you around all of tomorrow, and your raspy throat tells you speaking won’t be much easier either.

He leans over you at some point, though you’re not exactly sure when. His body covering you from the cool air of the spire. He uses the closeness as an excuse to leave more marks across your neck and shoulders, happy to scar you up for everyone to see.

His dick twists in a way that has you seeing stars, throwing your head back into the sheets to cry to the heavens. He has every intent to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight tonight, and just as you think he’ll let you cum, he pauses his rough pace. You nearly whine, but stop when the blindfold stars to be undone.

He’d turned off the lights, so your vision adjusts much faster, and you are met with his sharp toothy grin. He seems satisfied with himself, so you smile weakly at him.

“Awwwwh, you’re so cute! Aren’t they cute?” He coos.

It takes you a second to realize he is talking to someone else, blinking in confusion a few times before you follow his gaze across the room. You meet dull ones, seemingly uninterested in the affair unfolding before them. Your jam freezes, jerking in your restraints in surprise. Why was Truthless Recluse here? How long had he been watching? Why was Shadow Milk okay with it?

“Oh, nonono, you’re not going anywhere!” He purrs, rubbing his cheek into yours like your attempt at escape was cute, “Don’t you like the surprise I made for you? It seemed like such a good idea, don’t tell me you’re upset!”

It’s hard to keep up with him, so all you manage is a very stupid, “What?”

He giggles with good nature, “Well, you seemed to like Vanilly’s attention sosososo much, that I thought it would be fun to have him watch us! And I was right, you’re never this vocal… it’s a little annoying honestly. Y’know, I’m getting the impression you like him more than me!”

You shake your head adamantly at him, and you mean it too, even though you’re fucked out and stupid you still manage to understand what he’s saying. You can’t come up with a good argument against him in your state though, petrified eyes unable to focus on staring at him or hiding from Truthless Recluse. It seems to make him happy, but he doesn’t stop his teasing despite the satisfaction.

“You do know who you belong to, don’t you dolly?” His words are accompanied with a thrust, a gasp forcing its way out as you nod, “Use your words pretty~”

Another thrust and you manage, “Y-you.”

“Mhm~ What’s my name, c’mon. You’ve still got some brain left up there, dontcha?” He teases, tapping on your forehead. If you weren’t so horrified you might’ve laughed.

“Sha~adow Milk— shit.” You manage between the steady smacks of his hips against yours, the tip of his dick rubbing your g-spot each time making things all the more difficult for you.

He smiles proudly at you, as if you were a pet he’d broken in. You certainly felt that way right now, not that you’d complain too much. His hand grabs your face tightly, jerking your head to the side with a smug smile.

“Tell him who you belong to.” He commands, and there is not room for debate.

“I belong to Shadow Milk Cookie,” You cry out to the silent cookie. He seems… unsure of the sight in front of him, whether he enjoys it or not, but Shadow Milk pulls your face back to his before you can make it out.

“Good job! I’m so proud of you! Now,” He squeezes your face tight in his grip, smiling cruelly at your struggle, “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t make me have to remind you again, alright?”

You nod dumbly, only verbally responded when he raises an eyebrow, “Of course, I’ll be good.”

He giggles, pressing the kindest kiss he could muster to your lips, “That’s my dolly~”

[brainddeadd]

Protective Instincts

You’re standing in the lobby of the arena, waiting for Quinn to finish his post-game interviews. The energy of the building has started to settle, and the noise from the locker room has faded, but there's a buzz in the air. Most of the team has trickled out, leaving only a few stragglers, including a guy from the opposing team who seems to have lingered a little too long after the game.

You’re scrolling through your phone when you feel his presence before you see him. He’s standing way too close for comfort, leaning against a nearby pillar, his eyes scanning you in a way that sends an uncomfortable chill down your spine. He leans forward, trying to make conversation, but you feel his intentions before he even speaks.

“Hey, I saw you in the stands. Pretty cute, huh? What’s your name?”

You take a step back, instinctively feeling the tension building in your shoulders. You don’t know him, and you don’t want to. Your gut tells you to walk away, but before you can say anything, you hear a calm, familiar voice behind you.

“She’s with me.”

The words are firm, unwavering, but not angry. There’s a quiet strength in them, something that immediately makes the guy step back, his posture stiffening as he meets Quinn’s eyes. Quinn is standing just a few feet behind you now, his body relaxed, but there’s a protectiveness in the way he stands that is unmistakable.

The guy hesitates, his eyes darting between you and Quinn, realizing quickly that whatever his intentions were, he won’t get away with it tonight. He mutters something under his breath, avoiding Quinn’s gaze, and walks off without another word.

You breathe a little easier, but you don’t say anything right away, not sure if you should feel thankful or surprised. Quinn doesn’t move from his spot behind you, but his presence is comforting, like a silent barrier between you and whatever world outside you don’t want to deal with.

“Are you okay?” Quinn asks quietly, his voice low, but there’s concern in the way his eyes flick to you, scanning you for any signs of distress.

You nod, meeting his gaze. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Quinn doesn’t say anything more, but he steps closer, his hand brushing lightly against your arm as he gestures toward the exit. The quiet reassurance in his actions makes you smile, even though you feel a little embarrassed by how rattled you were.

As you walk out together, the cool air of the night hitting your skin, Quinn falls into step beside you, his body language still subtly shielding you, as though making sure nothing else could possibly harm you. You know he’s not the type to make a big deal out of things, but the weight of his unspoken care wraps around you like a shield, keeping you safe in a world that sometimes feels too chaotic.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly, glancing at him.

Quinn simply shrugs, his eyes meeting yours for a brief second, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “I know.”

But he doesn’t need to say more. You can tell by the way he’s looking at you—like nothing could get past him, and you don’t have to worry about it anymore. Quinn’s got your back, no matter what.

[violetasteracademic]

A little birdie told me the Elriel tags were in desperate need of some good vibes and unhinged smut, so dropping by to sprinkle a slutty lil one shot!

Summary:

Elain escapes to the Dawn Court for one evening, hoping to ease the pain of her broken heart with the distraction of a ball. But Azriel, the very shadowsinger she has sworn to forget, has followed her. And he isn't too keen on letting other males put their hands on the Night Court seer.

Warnings: Explicit sexual content. Rough sex, exhibitionism, mild pain/power dynamic kink, orgasm denial, breeding kink, garden fucking, yes literal hedge maze fucking, unhinged jealous possessive Azriel and Elain loves it, it's basically just kinky. But very beginner friendly! (er... in my opinion. I guess let me know if I'm wrong about that lolol)

This fic was inspired by Deep End by Ali Hazelwood for @yourstarsmyscars and all the girlies who went insane for Lukas Blomqvist as a modern day Azriel.

Read the fic here

Preview below the cut.

“Elain,” Azriel called after her, but she didn’t slow down. Not until she managed to shove her way through the crowded ballroom and burst out into the garden for a breath of fresh air. “Elain, stop.”

“You’re giving me orders now?” Elain spun on her heel. “What are you doing here, Azriel?”

Azriel’s nostrils flared. “I’m making sure you’re safe. Someone obviously needs to.”

Elain’s jaw fell open, then quickly snapped closed. She was right, then. He’d been sent after her. It stung more than she cared to admit. “I am perfectly safe. Not that it is any business of yours. You can tell my sisters there is nothing to worry about.”

Azriel’s gaze briefly flickered in confusion at the mention of her sisters, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by an icy rage. “Oh really?” Azriel moved in on her, forcing her to retreat until the stone wall halted her movements. “Damon Thatcher is a sniveling creep. There is no way in hell I would let you accept a drink from him.”

“Let me?” Elain’s chest heaved. How dare he? “You don’t control what I do and don’t do Azriel. I will dance with whoever I want and drink champagne with whoever I want, and you don’t get to say a damn word about it.” 

She shoved at his chest, but he snatched her wrists in his hands and pressed her into the wall.

“Not him,” he said, so low and quiet her breath hitched. “Promise me it won’t be him. He’s an ass.”

Elain took a deep breath, trying desperately to clear the fog from the heat of his body and the light, heady buzz from the champagne. “Why does it matter to you?” 

Azriel’s pupils blew wide and his breath sawed through his chest. But he didn’t say a single word.

Elain’s heart was caving in. She couldn’t stand to be this close to Azriel. To breathe in his scent and feel his eyes boring into her, as if he would die if he couldn’t touch her. But he had already proven that wasn’t true. It was a mistake. He never wanted her in the way she thought. So why was he doing this?

“You don’t want me, but no one else gets to have me either? Is that what this is?” She shook her head and turned away, desperate to keep him from seeing the tears forming. “It seems like the only ass here is you, Azriel.” This time, he didn’t stop her when she shoved him away.

It broke something in her. After all this time, she still held on to some fragile hope that she hadn’t imagined everything between them. That the crazed and desperate look she sometimes saw in his eyes wasn’t just… Well, whatever it was. She had no idea anymore. But it hurt too much to try to understand.

“I won’t accept a drink or another dance from Damon,” Elain said over her shoulder. “I… I didn’t like the way he made me feel. But I am not leaving here alone tonight, Azriel. I can’t bear another night alone. So, please. Don’t interfere again.”

Her hand had just barely begun to reach for the knob when darkness swarmed around her.

She landed hard against a cold stone wall, and gasped for breath when the shadows faded and revealed a small fountain surrounded by hedges. Elain had seen the large hedge maze in the Dawn Court gardens, and briefly considered how romantic it would be to sneak quietly away if she indeed found someone she could attempt to distract herself from Azriel with. But it was Azriel himself gripping her wrists and looking like a half crazed animal.

“Azriel,” Elain hissed. “What are you doing?”

“No,” he choked out. 

“No what?”

“No, I don’t want anyone else touching you.”

[v-eee]

── jungkook x you

scenario: you and Jungkook used to be best friend until new female staff came into his workplace, Jieun. He has introduced you to her. Jungkook starts getting busy with his work and often cancel the usual food hunting night with you because he needs to work overtime with Jieun. You know Jieun doesn't like you because she has come to your cafe a few times and told you to stop texting Jungkook during his work hour. when you told him about that, he didn't believe you. Starting that day your friendship is not like it used to be.

(x)

It had basically become a running joke—no matter where you went, Jungkook would just… show up. Every city, every caf��, every Airbnb. Like it was totally normal.

At first, you thought it was just him being stubborn. But after a few weeks, it became clear—he wasn’t going to stop.

Honestly, you were starting to think he enjoyed the long drives more than actually seeing you.

And every time he showed up, he somehow ended up crashing at your place. It happened so often that even your coworkers at the café started noticing.

“You guys sure you’re just friends?” one of them asked, eyeing Jungkook as he leaned lazily against the counter, waiting for you to finish your shift.

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“Uh-huh,” another one chimed in. “Because totally normal ‘friends’ drive six hours just to hang out.”

Jungkook smirked, nudging you. “Yeah, Y/N. What kind of friend does that?”

You shot him a look. “The annoying kind.”

He just chuckled.

___

One night, after a long shift, you called Jungkook just to chat. You weren’t feeling great, and the second he heard you cough, he immediately switched to full-on drama mode.

“Jeez, Y/N, you sound like a grandpa who’s been chain-smoking since dinosaurs existed.”

“Wow, thanks. That’s super comforting.”

“Did you take medicine?”

“Not yet. I’ll get some tomorrow.”

Apparently, that wasn’t an acceptable answer. Because the next day, while you were curled up in bed, there was an obnoxiously loud knock at the door.

You dragged yourself over, opened it, and—

“What the— Jeon Jungkook?!”

There he stood, looking way too proud of himself, holding a bag full of medicine, snacks, and—was that a hot water bottle shaped like a bear?

He breezed past you like he owned the place, dumping the bag on the table. “You sounded like death last night, so I took half a day off to bring you this.”

You blinked at him. “You drove two hours… just to bring me medicine?”

“Yup.”

“Jungkook,” you groaned, “that’s such a waste of time! I could’ve just bought it myself.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “A waste of time? Wow.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“And let you avoid me for a week? No thanks.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes. “What?”

“You do this every time. The moment you get sick, you start avoiding me like I’m the plague because you’re scared I’ll catch it.”

You flopped onto the couch, exhausted. “Well, yeah?” you frowned. “I don’t want you getting sick.”

“I don’t care if I get sick, Y/N,” he muttered. “I just don’t like it when you avoid me.” He sat beside you, handing you a warm bottle of tea.

Your chest tightened.

You knew Jungkook wasn’t a fan of distance. But you never realized it actually bothered him when you avoided him while sick.

You sighed as you took the bottle from his hand. “It’s just a cold.”

“I know,” he murmured, pouting. “But… I guess I’m scared I’ll lose you.”

Your heart did a weird little flip.

“…You’re not gonna lose me, idiot,” you muttered.

Jungkook stared at you for a moment, his usual cocky grin softening into something… real.

“Good. Now take the damn medicine before I force-feed it to you.”

You groaned. “And there it is.”

“Dead people don’t complain, Y/N. Take. The. Pills.”

You swatted his hand away as he tried to open the bottle for you, but deep down, you knew.

This wasn’t just friendship anymore.

And maybe, just maybe… you didn’t mind that at all.

[riqomi]

more than pretend ˖ 박성훈

박성훈 ˖ 𝑓em!r .. g. fake dating. slowburn. romance. fake. relationship. ──── BOOKSHELF (791) tw: kissing

dating park sunghoon was never something you thought would happen.

but when rumors started spreading that he was secretly dating a famous actress, his company needed a distraction. fast. their solution? a fake relationship with someone unexpected—you.

you weren’t famous. you weren’t an idol. you were just an old friend from before his debut, someone the media wouldn’t suspect. that’s why the company thought it would work—no one would see it coming, and the public would buy it. at first, you laughed when his manager suggested it. “you’re joking, right?”

but sunghoon, who had been silent the whole time, finally spoke. “it’s not a bad idea. you blinked, turning to him. “wait, you’re actually okay with this?”

he exhaled, leaning back on the couch. “not really. but i don’t want my name attached to that actress forever.” he glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “if you’re uncomfortable, i won’t force you.” you hesitated. the idea of pretending to be his girlfriend, holding hands in public, maybe even… kissing—it was insane.

but sunghoon looked genuinely exhausted. and he was your friend. you sighed. “fine. but just until the rumors die down.” a hint of a smirk played on his lips. “deal.” the first “public date” was awkward.

you sat across from sunghoon at a café, stirring your drink nervously while flashes from cameras outside the window lit up the room. fans whispered. some even pointed, their eyes wide with shock.

you swallowed hard. “they’re really buying this, huh?”

sunghoon stirred his iced americano, looking completely unbothered. “that’s the point.” then, without warning, he reached across the table and took your hand.

your heart nearly stopped.

he didn’t even look at you—just kept sipping his coffee like this was completely normal. but his fingers were warm, his grip firm yet casual, as if he had done this a million times before.

“you—you could’ve warned me,” you muttered, face burning.

his lips twitched in amusement. “you’re my girlfriend, remember?”

you rolled your eyes, but your heart was racing. and the worst part? his hand felt nice.

as the weeks passed, fake dating became second nature.

you got used to sunghoon casually slinging an arm around your shoulders in front of cameras. you got used to the way he’d text you late at night—sometimes to discuss how to make the relationship look real, sometimes just to ask, did you eat?

but sometimes, it felt too real.

like when he pulled you closer in a crowded place, his hand firm on your waist. “just so no one gets suspicious,” he murmured.

or when he draped his jacket over your shoulders on a cold evening, brushing your hair back as he did.

or the way he looked at you during interviews when they asked about you—his gaze softening for just a second before he answered with his usual cool tone.

and then there was the jealousy.

one night, you were out with friends when you got a text.

sunghoon: where are you? you: out with some friends. why? sunghoon: who?

you frowned. why does he care?

later, when he saw a picture of you laughing with another guy, his expression darkened. he didn’t say anything, but that night, when you were supposed to take “fake couple” photos for the media, he pulled you a little too close.

you stared up at him. “sunghoon…?”

he didn’t move. his hand lingered at your waist. his usual cool exterior cracked just a little. and for the first time, it hit you—this wasn’t just pretend anymore. you had planned to end the fake relationship soon. the rumors had died down. everything had worked.

so why did the thought of not being with sunghoon feel… wrong?

one night, after another public appearance, you both sat in his car, the silence heavier than usual. “you know,” you started, gripping your phone tightly, “we don’t have to pretend anymore.” sunghoon’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “yeah.”

silence.

you sighed. “aren’t you… relieved?” he didn’t answer right away. when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter than usual.

“is that what you want?”

your breath caught. his tone wasn’t teasing. it wasn’t his usual nonchalant attitude. it was raw. hesitant. you turned to look at him. “sunghoon… what if—”

before you could finish, he leaned in. slowly. carefully. like he was giving you time to stop him.

but you didn’t.

and when his lips finally brushed against yours, you realized—this had never been fake to him.

and maybe… it had never been fake to you either. the next time you went out in public, sunghoon reached for your hand without hesitation.

this time, there were no cameras around.

and this time, it was real.

remember my requests are open, feel free to send some !! hope u guys liked this one. pls reblog it would help a lot <33

[m4rv3l-girl]

Bucky x reader are having a baby but noone knows yet

Reader can feel her belly get chubby and while in the kitchen grabbing a snack, sharon and a few other agents comment on it and say if reader keeps gaining weight bucky won't be interested, reader leaves the snack and goes back thier shared room and hides away, bucky hears the quiet sobs and immediately rushes to you and asks what's wrong, you explain that you overheard someone talking about you but wouldn't say who but bucky finds out and makes a Big scene and spills the secret of your baby

Warnings: Mentions of body shaming. Major fluff.

A Secret Worth Spilling

Bucky had always been observant. Centuries of war, survival, and just existing as a man out of time had taught him how to notice things others didn’t. That’s why, despite the general hustle of the compound and the distraction of another one of Sam’s exasperated rants in the common area, he knew something was wrong before he even set foot in your shared room.

It was too quiet.

You weren’t the loudest person in the world, but you always made little sounds. The shuffling of your feet, the quiet hum of a song stuck in your head, the soft way you murmured to yourself when reading or cooking—Bucky had learned all these sounds by heart.

And right now? Nothing.

His brows furrowed, unease curling in his gut as he stepped into the room. That’s when he heard it.

A sniffle. A shaky inhale. Then, a muffled sob.

His stomach dropped.

"Doll?" His voice was soft, careful, as he shut the door behind him. No answer. Another sniffle.

Bucky immediately crossed the room, kneeling in front of where you had curled up on the bed, arms wrapped protectively around your midsection.

"Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "Nothing. It’s stupid."

Bucky tilted his head, concern etched deep into his expression. "You’re crying, which means it ain’t stupid."

You swallowed hard, trying to suppress another wave of emotion, but your chest still trembled with the effort. Bucky reached out, his flesh hand tracing gentle circles on your knee while his vibranium fingers remained still - he always made sure to be gentle with you, no matter which hand he used.

"C’mon, baby. Talk to me."

You exhaled shakily, rubbing your hands over your arms as if to shield yourself from the words still ringing in your ears. "I was in the kitchen," you started, your voice small. "Just grabbing a snack."

Bucky waited patiently, nodding for you to continue.

"Sharon and a couple of the agents were there," you admitted, not meeting his gaze. "They…they made comments. About me. About-" Your voice wavered, and Bucky felt his jaw tighten. "About my weight."

His fingers twitched against your knee. "What did they say?"

You hesitated, clearly not wanting to repeat it. But Bucky could tell from the fresh tears pooling in your eyes that it was eating at you. He hated that.

"They said if I kept gaining weight, you wouldn’t be interested anymore."

Silence.

Bucky stared at you, unblinking, while his mind processed what he’d just heard. Then, something cold settled in his chest. A mixture of disbelief, fury, and something else—something raw.

"You believe that?" His voice was quiet, but there was something dangerously sharp underneath.

"No!" You rushed to say, shaking your head. "I mean—I don’t know. I wasn’t even thinking about it until they—" Your breath hitched. "I left the snack. I just—I couldn’t."

Bucky’s heart clenched. You were pregnant. Carrying his baby. And yet, you’d rather starve yourself than risk gaining weight because of some cruel words?

"Doll," he breathed, cupping your face with both hands. "Listen to me. And I mean really listen, alright?"

You nodded hesitantly, eyes wide.

"I love you. I love every single inch of you. Always have, always will." His thumb stroked your cheek. "And this?" He placed his vibranium hand over your stomach, the smallest of bumps already noticeable beneath your sweater. "This is the most beautiful thing in the world to me. Because it means we’re bringing a life into this world together."

Your lower lip wobbled.

"If you think for one goddamn second that I’d ever stop loving you because of some weight, then, sweetheart, we got bigger problems than a couple of bitter agents with too much time on their hands."

A teary laugh bubbled out of you, and Bucky grinned at the sound.

"Now, you’re gonna tell me exactly who said it," he continued, "or I’m gonna find out myself. And trust me, sweetheart, I will find out."

Your silence was answer enough.

Bucky exhaled through his nose, jaw clenching. "Alright then."

He pressed a firm kiss to your forehead before standing, rolling his shoulders as his expression darkened. He was going to find Sharon. And when he did?

Well. He’d always been good at making an impression.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Bucky found Sharon in the common area, chatting with a couple of agents. They barely noticed him until he strode right up to their group, arms crossed, expression dark.

"Which one of you idiots decided it was a good idea to make my girl feel like shit?"

Silence.

Sharon’s eyes darted around slightly. "Bucky, I don’t know what-”

"Cut the crap, Carter," he snapped. "I know what you said. And I swear to god, if any of you so much as look at Y/N the wrong way again, I’ll make sure your next mission is somewhere real fun - like Siberia."

Murmurs of unease rippled through the group. Sam, who had been watching from the couch, arched an eyebrow. "Damn, Barnes. Didn’t take you for the dramatic type."

Bucky ignored him. "And for the record?" His voice carried through the room. "She’s not just ‘gaining weight.’ She’s pregnant. With my kid. She’s carrying My Baby. And if any of you have something to say, now would be the time because I’m ticked the heck off."

More silence.

Then-

"Oh," Sharon said weakly. "Shit."

"Yeah," Bucky scoffed, shaking his head. "Crap."

“Why are you…speaking like that?” One agent asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Need to practice not swearing, got a little one on the way.” He said sternly.

With that, he turned on his heel and made his way back to you without another word, not without grabbing a chocolate bar for you of course. The room remained dead silent in his wake.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

When Bucky returned, you were still sitting on the bed, eyes wide. You had heard the yelling. "You told them?"

Bucky shrugged, plopping down beside you. "They ticked me off."

You snorted. "Oh, so you just announced our baby to the whole compound?"

"Pretty much."

Despite yourself, you laughed and leaned into him. "Guess the secret’s out now."

Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple, his flesh hand settling over your stomach once more. "Damn right it is. And I couldn’t be prouder."

You sighed contentedly, letting the warmth of his presence soothe you. Bucky held you close, already planning exactly how he was going to make it up to you for even a second of doubt.

And judging by the way his fingers brushed over your skin, it was going to be a very thorough apology.

——————————————————————————————————

Here you go! 🫱🫶

[afriblaq]

Beautiful poem by @hess2love

“Just stop talking about it. New rules are in. We don’t care about this stuff anymore, it’s been so long ago”

That’s what some people say. But if you look at history, the connection is undeniable. And those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it…

For centuries, Black mothers were forced to breastfeed the children of enslavers while their own babies went hungry and often, didn’t make it past infancy. This wasn’t just an individual hardship!!! it was a system designed to strip Black women of their autonomy and break the bonds between mother and child.

Even after slavery ended, those wounds never fully healed. The formula industry aggressively marketed to Black communities, hospitals failed to provide adequate lactation support, and racist policies made breastfeeding even harder. The result? Generations of Black mothers left without the resources to feed their babies the way they wanted to.

Black History Month isn’t just about remembering names and dates, it’s about acknowledging the struggles that shaped our present and fighting for a better future. Breastfeeding is part of that fight. It’s about reclaiming autonomy, health, and the right to nourish children without barriers.

So, does Black History Month have anything to do with breastfeeding? The answer is in the history. And history demands that we do better.

"I wish I dried up, I wish every drop of my milk slipped past those pink lips and nourished the ground where the bones lay of my Babies, starved while I feed their murderer. I wish I dried up, so the missus babies would dry up too and be brittle, so I could crumble them to dust, return them to the ground where all children of my bosom lay Equal." - Hess Love

[adverbally]

Give Me More Than Just Some Butterflies

Written for the @stmarchmm prompt “breeding” | wc: 2,057 | rated: E | cw: sexual content, references to intentional pregnancy and babies/pups | tags: Steddie, omega Steve, alpha Eddie, established relationship, bondmates mating cycles/in heat, intersex omegas, trying to conceive, breeding kink, knotting | title from “Juno” by Sabrina Carpenter

———

When Steve’s heat finally hits, he’s been anticipating it for so long that he’s not sure what to do.

For months, he and Eddie have been talking about trying to get pregnant. They’re bonded, they have a spare bedroom for a nursery, their loved ones are there to support them and spoil the hell out of their baby. Steve’s off his birth control. They’re ready. Really. All they need is one good heat.

But now Steve’s pacing the length of their bathroom before dawn, burning with fever but wracked with chills, pressing the heels of his hands into his aching eyes, feeling utterly terrified.

This isn’t just some abstract plan for the future anymore. Here and now, they’re taking responsibility for a living, breathing human being that they’re going to create together. It’s everything Steve has ever wanted. It’s his worst nightmare. His heart is racing with the need to have his alpha close, to be taken care of and knotted until he’s thoroughly pupped, but his hands won’t stop shaking and he thinks he might be sick.

Steve sits on the cold tile, the bathmat shoved aside so he can feel the comforting chill on his bare legs. The porcelain of the bathtub behind him has a similar effect along his back and shoulders. When he tilts his head back, the tub is the perfect height to rest his skull on the ledge next to their toiletries.

It has to be nerves, right? He still wants this so badly his hands twitch at the thought. A baby, their baby, with that powdery clean scent and Eddie’s big brown eyes, maybe Steve’s nose. A whole little person to watch over and teach and love until he takes his final breath. A family of their own. God, he can’t think of anything he wants more.

That soothes something in Steve’s gut, makes him feel like his chest isn’t about to collapse in on itself. Maybe what he thought was anxiety is really just excitement. Maybe it’s just a natural fear of change, even if the change is a good thing.

Steve gets to his feet. Enough freaking out. He splashes some cold water on his face, which doesn’t do much for the feverish pink spots high on his cheeks but makes him feel calmer. He’s gonna go back out there, call in his heat leave, and wake up his mate so they can make a baby.

Eddie promptly derails that plan by scaring the hell out of Steve, who wasn’t expecting him to be standing right outside the bathroom door.

“Sorry!” Eddie exclaims, his own eyes wide with surprise. “Just, you weren’t in bed when I woke up and your scent was—”

“My heat is starting.”

They blink at each other for a moment before Eddie breaks the stunned silence. “Oh my god,” he says softly, covering his mouth with both hands. Then he laughs and throws his arms out and shouts excitedly, “Oh my god!”

His enthusiasm is contagious. Steve smiles as Eddie pulls him into a clumsy kiss, their teeth clacking and noses bumping, hugging tightly enough to bruise.

“Really?” Eddie asks, pulling away to hold Steve’s face between his hands like he can tell whether he’s in heat just by looking at him. Actually, he probably can tell by the feverish flush across Steve’s cheeks and the warmth of his skin, but he still asks.

“Yes, really,” Steve confirms.

Eddie kisses him again, then he starts herding Steve toward the bed like he’s some kind of sheepdog. “Okay, you get comfy. I’ll call the school and tell them you’ll be out for the week.”

“Will you call Robin, too? She’ll get the word out so nobody worries if we don’t answer the phone.”

“Of course. Be back in a jiffy.”

Eddie practically runs out of the room and all Steve can think is: That man’s gonna be the father of my children.

It sends a wave of want through him. Eddie will be here in less than five minutes, then he’ll fuck Steve and put a baby in him, just like they planned. A shiver runs up his spine, feverish and excited. He should be ready for Eddie when he comes back.

Steve steps out of his boxers and climbs into bed, settling himself on Eddie’s pillow. He inhales the scent of smoke and amber, dark and warm, and thinks about smelling it straight from the source. In just a few minutes, he’ll be nipping at the bonding mark on Eddie’s neck and breathing him in to his heart’s content.

Just thinking about it makes Steve squeeze his thighs together against the ache he feels. He’s so empty, and Eddie’s the only one who can fix it. Even as he slips two fingers, then three, inside himself, Steve imagines more: the perfect fullness of Eddie’s cock, the delicious stretch of his knot. The way his belly will swell after Eddie knocks him up.

“Couldn’t wait for me?” Eddie asks from the doorway.

Steve lets out a whine at the prospect of having his mate so near but not being touched by him yet. His own hand is a poor substitute for Eddie’s, missing his calluses and the coolness of his poor circulation and the way he knows how to play Steve just like his beloved guitar. It’s not enough.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Eddie’s voice is suddenly coming from right next to him, perched on the edge of the bed. His hand on Steve’s face is a relief, like a cold glass of water. “I’ve got you.”

“Want it,” Steve tells him, pleads with him as he gropes for any bare skin he can reach, desperate to feel Eddie, real and solid beside him.

Eddie gently grasps Steve’s wrist, pulling his hand from between his legs with a slick squelch. “Do you need more prep first or are you—?”

“Just your cock,” Steve huffs, shifting impatiently. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so affected by a heat before. Probably something to do with stopping his birth control, he guesses, but the cause doesn’t matter much when he’s being hollowed out and burned alive by the overwhelming want that’s flooding through him.

And he must have missed Eddie moving again, because he’s startled by the sensation of Eddie’s cock sliding through his folds. Kneeling between Steve’s spread thighs, Eddie doesn’t thrust inside yet, just nudges the head of his cock against Steve’s and smears his wetness around with every slow roll of his hips. He knows how badly Steve needs him and he’s still toying with him.

It’s starting to hurt now, the way his cunt clenches around nothing while his mate is right there. “Please, Alpha, please,” he begs, arching his back and reaching for Eddie’s hips to try to guide him inside.

Eddie catches both of his wrists in one giant hand and presses them into the pillows above Steve’s head. He leans down, their bodies pressed together from hips to shoulders, and buries his face in the crook of Steve’s neck, right over his mating bite.

The scrape of Eddie’s teeth is a silent reminder of their bond, thrumming through Steve like a plucked string. Telling Steve not to worry, asking for his trust, promising that he’ll be taken care of. Steve relaxes at his alpha’s reassurance. He’s still needy, still heat-drunk and aching for Eddie’s knot, but no longer frantic with it.

“So good for me,” Eddie murmurs, releasing Steve’s wrists. With his newly freed hand, Eddie takes hold of his cock, right at the base where his knot is already starting to swell, and slowly feeds it into Steve’s cunt.

Steve doesn’t think he could speak if he tried. Eddie is so hot and thick inside him, it’s like he’s pushing all the air out of Steve’s lungs so he can’t make a sound. All he can do is cling to him, fingers tangling in Eddie’s hair where his arms are locked around his neck, and let his mouth hang open as he gasps for breath.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Eddie sighs as he bottoms out. His first thrusts are tentative, gentle rocks in and out that glide smoothly through Steve’s slick. “That’s what you needed, huh? My cock filling you up?”

“Eddie.” His name feels so good in Steve’s mouth, as good as Eddie’s cock stuffing his pussy to the brim. They fit together like they were made to, so easy that Steve doesn’t have to think. He can just focus on the hot drag of each stroke, the way Eddie can get so deep with just a twitch of his hips, carving out a space inside Steve that nobody else will ever be able to fill.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I swear, it’s like you’re already glowing.”

He believes it, can practically feel it radiating from his skin, soaking into the sheets beneath him. It makes him smile, then chuckle when Eddie beams back at him. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way. Joy and pleasure just keep bubbling up in his chest, lighter than air, like he’s a helium balloon, bobbing as they rock together.

Then Eddie pauses to adjust the position of Steve’s knee, and the next thrust takes Steve’s breath away when Eddie’s cock hits him just right.

“Fuck,” he moans, rolls his hips into the next one to relish the way he feels even fuller at this angle. “More, please, I need—”

“Shhh, I’ve got you.” Speeding up his pace, Eddie drives in even deeper, the slap of his hips obscenely loud each time they meet the slick-smeared skin between Steve’s thighs. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, baby, don’t you worry.”

The promise pounds in Steve’s ears in time with his heartbeat. Eddie will take care of him. Eddie will fuck him better than anyone else ever could, will empty himself inside Steve and then knot him for good measure, again and again until Steve’s heat breaks. Until he’s bred, full with as many pups as Eddie can give him.

He must’ve been thinking out loud, because Eddie cups his cheek tenderly and murmurs, “That’s right, honey, all the puppies you want. Gonna be such a good mama.”

“Want it,” Steve agrees, nuzzling into Eddie’s touch. Warm and safe here in their nest, with his Alpha’s knot starting to catch at his hole, he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he’s coming out of this heat pregnant. It feels too right to fail. He hums his satisfaction against Eddie’s hand.

“Getting close for me?” Eddie slows his hips, returning to the slow grinds that make Steve’s toes curl. “Wanna come on my cock like a good Omega? Squeeze every last drop out of my knot so you can have my baby—”

Steve goes silent when he comes, unable to catch his breath or put together a coherent thought. His pussy spasms around Eddie’s cock until his Alpha can’t pull away, can only rock into the wet clutch of him as his knot pops past Steve’s rim.

“Oh, fuck, Stevie,” Eddie pants. He muffles his groan in the crook of Steve’s neck, mouthing at his mating bite as he spills inside of him.

If he hadn’t still been riding out his first orgasm, the sensation would be enough to make Steve come again. He’s acutely aware of each jerk of Eddie’s cock, each hot spurt filling him, his Alpha’s knot swelling further to lock them together. It settles him in a way he didn’t know he needed, sates him so completely that he goes limp in Eddie’s arms.

He can hear Eddie speaking to him, though he sounds far away. “So good for me,” he soothes, trailing kisses along Steve’s jaw and raking sweat-damp hair away from his forehead. “My beautiful mate. I love you so much.”

Steve ducks his head to capture Eddie’s lips with his, gasping when the movement makes Eddie’s knot twitch. “Love you, too, Alpha. Took such good care of me,” he croons. He laces his fingers with Eddie’s and tugs their joined hands to rest over his lower belly, still flat but full of promise. “Of us.”

“Always,” Eddie vows, sealing it with another soft kiss. “Now get some rest before the next wave hits.”

“Then you can make sure it takes,” Steve grins.

———

It does.

[blissfullylankartz]

the oddworld fandom don’t really want to interact with you because you don’t care about oddworld. compared to other fandoms we’re tiny and the games don’t get enough love anyway so it feels borderline disrespectful. if it’s not your thing why are you even making ocs for it?

I literally made a post saying not to pull this shit, I said I would be taking anon asks as long as people were kind. Yet once again I'm being met with being pushed out of a community I was wanting to get to know about. Being told I don't care when I'm literally still new and learning things. So people apparently can only partake in a community if they only know every little detail about it?

Look if you have an issue with me I'd rather you not be hiding behind anon, it feels incredibly uncomfortable and disrespectful that you would cross a boundary I set in place. The anon asks was to allow people to send asks comfortably, but you keep ruining it for everyone with me needing to turn them off because you don't have the balls to come out and say stuff without hiding behind anon. You make me believe the community is unkind and unwelcoming, when I don't want to believe that because some of the people I have interacted with have been wonderful.

You don't get to dictate what I take interest in and how I enjoy those things. So just leave me alone or at least stop hiding behind anon, it isn't fair on anyone else that you keep doing this. I won't be switching anon off because I put it on to allow people to be comfortable. I didn't put it on to allow you to feel comfortable being unwelcoming, if your going to stand up for what you love then stop hiding. Or are you afraid that if people knew who was doing it that they wouldn't like you as much anymore, since it's a small community alot of people seem to know each other. I doubt it would be fun to find out that someone was going out of Thier way to shun people from a community they apparently care about.

If you love something wouldn't you rather want to share it and talk about it, not being hateful and pushing people away from it.

I'm tired of this, this was a shitty thing to just wake up to.

Edit: anon has apologised for their behaviour however decided not to post a response to that because I don't want to give them more attention than necessary. This will be the last thing I'll be adding to this situation. I've blocked them from being able to send anon asks anymore, this is because they broke a couple of boundaries and have done things that I'm really not comfortable with. Also just didn't enjoy the vibes being brought to the table. Just hope a lesson has been learnt here.

Thank you for all the kindness that everyone has shown to me, I was a little surprised by the amount of responses, but I'm glad the community seems to take these things seriously. Don't worry I'm not going anywhere and my asks are still open and yous are free to send asks as anons. Just be kind and respectful<3 eventually I may make a post with all the ocs on it that are available for asks once I've brushed up more on lore. I look forward to doing more with yous <3

[sturnsblogs]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆More than best-friends‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Chapter 3: The Shift

You weren’t sure when things really started to change, but they did.

Maybe it was the little things at first—Chris taking longer to text back, missing your usual after-school hangouts, or forgetting inside jokes you both used to laugh at. You told yourself it was fine. He had a girlfriend now, and things were bound to be a little different. But as the weeks passed, it became harder to ignore the growing distance between you.

And the worst part? He didn’t even seem to notice.

The tension from your last argument still lingered in the air. You hadn’t spoken to Chris much since that night, both of you too stubborn to reach out first.

Kenzie, your best friend since forever, had been your rock through all of it. “You’re not wrong, you know,” she had said when you first told her about the fight. “He’s been acting like a total idiot.”

Still, you hated fighting with Chris. It felt wrong, like something in your world had shifted off-balance.

So when your phone finally buzzed with his name, a mix of relief and apprehension hit you.

Chris: “Can we talk?”

You hesitated before replying.

You: “Sure.”

He showed up at your door twenty minutes later, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets. “Hey.”

You crossed your arms. “Hey.”

Chris exhaled. “Look, I—I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t important. I swear, that was never my intention.”

You stayed quiet, waiting.

“I know I’ve been distant. And yeah, I have been spending a lot of time with Avery, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. You’re my best friend. You matter to me.”

His voice was genuine, and for the first time in weeks, you saw a glimpse of the Chris you knew. The one who used to put you first, who used to notice when something was wrong.

You sighed, glancing down. “I just… I don’t want to feel like I’m always coming second.”

“You’re not.” He stepped closer. “I swear, you’re not.”

There was a beat of silence before he held out his arms awkwardly. “Can we stop being weird now? I miss you.”

You rolled your eyes but stepped into the hug anyway. “Fine. But you owe me pizza.”

Chris grinned. “Done.”

And just like that, things felt okay again.

That night, Chris invited you over to his house. “Movie and pizza, just like old times,” he had said.

For the first time in a while, you were excited. Maybe things could go back to normal. Maybe this was Chris’s way of making an effort.

But then, as you settled onto the couch with your plate of pizza, he cleared his throat.

“Hey, um…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you mind if Avery comes over?”

You froze mid-bite. “What?”

Chris shifted in his seat. “She just texted me. She’s bored, and I figured—since we’re all friends now—she could come hang out with us?”

You set your plate down. “Chris.”

“What?”

“This was our night.”

Chris hesitated, looking at his phone. “I know, I just—“

“Just what?” You let out a bitter laugh. “Can we seriously not spend one night together without her being involved?”

His expression shifted. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this?”

“Because it is a big deal, Chris!” You gestured between the two of you. “We barely hang out as it is, and when we finally do, you want to bring her?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Oh my God, what is your problem?”

“My problem is that I feel like I don’t even matter to you anymore!”

Chris let out a frustrated sigh. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

“Do I?” You crossed your arms. “Because lately, it sure doesn’t feel that way.”

He clenched his jaw, his expression shifting from frustration to anger. “I’m not your boyfriend! I don’t have to spend every second of my time with you.”

The words hit you like a slap. You felt your stomach twist as you stared at him.

Chris scoffed, shaking his head. “Are you jealous or something?”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“What?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“That’s what this is about, right?” He gestured vaguely. “You don’t like that I’m with Avery. You don’t like that I actually care about someone else.”

You swallowed hard, your hands curling into fists at your sides.

“And I’m not fucking jealous, Chris.” Your voice was sharp, firm, filled with frustration and something else—something deeper.

Chris let out a sarcastic laugh. “Really? Because you sure sound like it.”

You took a step closer, glaring at him. “Oh, I’m sorry, am I supposed to be thrilled that my best friend suddenly treats me like an afterthought?”

Chris clenched his jaw. “That’s not what’s happening.”

“No? Then what is happening?” You crossed your arms. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a hell of a lot like you’re replacing me.”

He let out a sharp breath. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Is it?” You scoffed. “Because you never used to ditch me for anyone. But now? Now it’s Avery first, Avery this, Avery that. And what do I get? I get scraps of your time when she’s busy.”

Chris shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, but this is fair?” You gestured between the two of you. “You ditch me, barely talk to me, and then expect me to just be okay with it?”

“I don’t ditch you!” Chris snapped. “I just—things are different now.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “No shit.”

Chris sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t get why you’re making this such a big deal.”

You stared at him, your chest tight. “Because you are a big deal to me, Chris. But I don’t think I am to you anymore.”

His mouth opened slightly like he wanted to argue, but no words came out.

The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “Enjoy your night with Avery.”

And with that, you grabbed your jacket and walked out, slamming the door behind you.

Chris didn’t come after you for the first time. he didn’t come after you.

A/N- Well this was fun. i’m very sorry i didn’t come out with the third chapter last night i was very tired. Butttt what do we think? if you have any requests for anything you can always tell me in my inbox.

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @chrislilcumslvt @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04

TO BE ON MASTERLIST TAGLIST

CHAPTER TWO

[wonyqt]

LOML

summary forced into an arranged relationship for the sake of your family’s business empire, you’re is forced to break jungkook’s heart, even though he’s the only one you’ve ever loved. at a high-profile gala, you’re forced to play the role of junseo’s perfect partner until you comes face to face with jungkook, who demands the truth. trapped by duty and expectations, you makes the ultimate sacrifice, choosing your family’s legacy over your own heart, even as it shatters you completely.

part two is here ! 2

────୨ৎ────

you’re in love with jungkook.

you have been since you were kids, since the days spent running through the vast gardens of your family’s estate, since the nights of whispered secrets under the glow of chandelier-lit ballrooms. it was always him.

and now, finally, at twenty years old, after years of stolen glances and hesitant touches, you’ve had him. you’ve gone on dates, held his hand, kissed him—your first kiss, his first kiss. all that’s left is for him to ask you to be his girlfriend.

you’re sure it’s coming soon.

but then, your parents drop the bomb.

“you’ll be dating junseo starting tomorrow,” your father announces at dinner, his voice calm, unwavering. “your first appearance as a couple will be at the gala.”

you almost drop your fork.

“what?” your voice is barely above a whisper, your hands trembling against the table.

“the choi family and our family merging in this way will be good for both companies,” your mother adds, as if that’s enough justification for breaking your heart. “it’s what’s best for everyone.”

“not for me,” you snap, standing up so fast your chair scrapes against the marble floor. “i don’t want to date junseo. i’m in love with jungkook.”

“y/n, don’t be difficult,” your father sighs, rubbing his temples like you’re a child throwing a tantrum. “this isn’t about love. this is about business, about family legacy. junseo is a good match for you.”

you stare at them in disbelief, your appetite long gone. your parents aren’t just wealthy. they aren’t just business owners. they are a dynasty. one of the most powerful chaebol families in south korea, with a legacy spanning generations. their empire extends across industries—hotels, real estate, high-end retail. their name is untouchable. their influence, undeniable.

“no, he’s not!” your voice cracks, tears burning your eyes. “jungkook is the one i love! i don’t care about what looks good or what benefits the company, i just want to be with him!”

your mother exhales sharply. “you don’t have a choice.”

and just like that, your whole world comes crashing down.

“you’ll end whatever you have with jungkook,” your father says, finality in his tone. “because starting tomorrow, you’ll belong to junseo.”

────୨ৎ────

later that night, you send jungkook a simple text.

“meet me at our spot?”

it takes him less than a minute to reply.

“of course, baby. be there soon.”

your heart clenches at the word—baby—because after tonight, you won’t be his anymore.

you shouldn’t even be doing this. you should’ve just ignored him, let your parents handle it, let him figure it out through rumors and headlines. but you couldn’t. you owed him at least this much.

so you sit on the old wooden bench under the cherry blossom tree in the quiet park, the one that’s been yours since childhood. where he first told you he liked you. where you shared your first kiss. where you should’ve become his girlfriend.

but instead, you’re about to break his heart.

you hear his footsteps before you see him. when you look up, he’s already smiling at you, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, dimples deep in his cheeks. he looks so happy to see you.

you swallow the lump in your throat. don’t cry. not yet.

“hey,” he breathes, settling beside you. the warmth of his body so close makes you want to lean in, but you force yourself to stay still.

“hey,” you say back, voice barely above a whisper.

he studies your face, concern flickering in his eyes. “what’s wrong?”

you drop your gaze to your lap, twisting your fingers together. you should just say it. fast, like ripping off a bandaid.

“i don’t want to see you anymore.”

silence.

then—

“what?” jungkook lets out a small, breathless laugh, like he didn’t hear you right. “what are you talking about?”

you squeeze your eyes shut. “i lost feelings.”

the words taste like poison on your tongue.

jungkook stiffens beside you. “what?”

“i don’t love you anymore,” you lie.

he turns to fully face you now, brows furrowed, jaw tight. “you’re joking, right?”

you shake your head, keeping your eyes locked on the ground. if you look at him, you’ll break.

“y/n,” his voice cracks, and fuck—he sounds so broken already. “you don’t just lose feelings overnight. what happened?”

“nothing happened,” you whisper. “i just… don’t feel the same way anymore.”

he inhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. he’s silent for a long moment before he finally asks, “did i do something wrong?”

your chest tightens.

“no.”

“then why?” his voice is raw, desperate. “why are you doing this?”

you shake your head, blinking back tears. “i’m sorry, jungkook.”

his breathing is uneven now. you can tell he’s fighting every instinct to reach for you, to pull you in and fix whatever’s suddenly broken between you.

“don’t do this,” he pleads, voice barely above a whisper. “y/n, if i did something—”

“you didn’t,” you cut him off, finally looking up at him, and it’s a mistake because the look on his face almost shatters you.

pain. confusion. devastation.

“then don’t leave me,” he says, like he’s begging.

but he doesn’t know—you already have.

your hands are trembling as you force yourself to stand.

“i’m sorry, jungkook.”

his eyes are red, shining under the dim glow of the streetlights, his lips slightly parted like he still can’t believe what’s happening. like he’s waiting for you to take it back.

but you don’t.

you turn on your heel and walk away.

each step feels heavier than the last, like your body knows you’re making a mistake. like it’s trying to stop you. but you keep going.

you don’t look back.

as soon as you slide into the backseat of your family’s car, the tears spill over. silent at first, then uncontrollable. the driver doesn’t say anything, just starts the engine and pulls away, letting you cry in peace.

by the time you arrive home, your chest feels hollow, your eyes sore and puffy. you wipe at your face with shaky hands before stepping inside, hoping—praying—your parents have already gone to bed.

but of course, they’re waiting for you.

your father is standing in the middle of the grand foyer, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “did you do it?”

your throat is too tight to speak. you nod.

his lips curl into a satisfied smile. “good.”

your stomach twists.

then, your mother approaches, her heels clicking softly against the marble floors. she cups your damp cheeks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“you did the right thing, sweetheart.”

you feel sick.

because if this was the right thing…

why does it feel so wrong?

────୨ৎ────

you’re curled up in bed, wrapped in your silk sheets, staring at the ceiling.

you should be sleeping. you should be resting for tomorrow—for the event, for the moment your parents parade you around beside junseo like some perfect little trophy.

but you can’t.

because all you can think about is jungkook.

he’s already called you a dozen times. he’s sent text after text, and each time your phone lights up, your heart clenches.

y/n, please talk to me.

i don’t understand.

whatever’s wrong, we can fix it. please.

i love you.

you turn your phone over, face down on your nightstand, and press your hands against your eyes. you don’t let yourself cry again. you already wasted too many tears tonight.

instead, you force yourself to sleep.

────୨ৎ────

morning comes too soon.

before you know it, you’re sitting in front of your vanity, a makeup artist dusting highlighter across your cheekbones, a hairstylist perfecting the soft waves in your hair. you watch yourself in the mirror, but you feel detached, like you’re staring at a stranger.

once your makeup is done, you move to finish getting dressed.

the white chanel cropped jacket sits snugly on your shoulders, the black trim adding sharp contrast. the matching white dress, adorned with delicate black bows, hugs your figure perfectly—too perfectly, as if it was made just for this occasion. you slip on your silver chanel earrings, the pearls catching the light, then clasp the silver chanel chain necklace around your neck. the white chanel handbag feels heavy in your hands, and when you finally step into your black jimmy choo pumps, their pearl embellishments glistening, you feel like a doll. dressed up. put on display.

just as you fasten the final clasp of your necklace, your mother steps into your room.

“junseo will be here soon to pick you up,” she says, her tone light, like she’s reminding you of some trivial thing.

your stomach twists.

you swallow, turning to face her. “do i really have to do this?”

her expression softens, but only slightly. “yes, y/n. you do.”

your lips part, but no words come out. because it doesn’t matter what you say—your fate was sealed the moment your father made the deal.

your mother steps closer, reaching out to adjust your necklace. “you’ll be fine,” she assures you. “junseo is a nice boy. you’ll learn to like him.”

but you already love someone else.

and now, you have to pretend you don’t.

the doorbell rings, and your stomach drops.

your mother gives you a pointed look before stepping aside, silently telling you to answer it yourself.

you inhale sharply, smoothing your dress down before making your way to the front entrance. when you open the door, junseo stands there, dressed in an expensive black suit, his dark hair neatly styled. he looks… nice. polished. like the perfect heir to his family’s empire.

but he’s not jungkook.

“hi,” he says, offering you a small smile.

“hi.”

for a second, you both just stand there. neither of you know how to act.

then, with a sigh, he steps aside and gestures toward the sleek black car parked in the driveway. “shall we?”

you nod, following him down the steps. ever the gentleman, he walks ahead to open the car door for you. you hesitate for a moment before sliding in, and he closes it gently behind you before circling around to the other side.

the silence is unbearable.

he doesn’t say anything as the driver pulls away from your house, hands resting on his lap, gaze focused ahead. you know you should probably keep up appearances—at least pretend to be okay with this—but you can’t.

you turn to him, voice firm. “i don’t want to do this.”

junseo exhales, finally meeting your gaze.

“i love someone else,” you continue, fingers tightening around your handbag. “this isn’t fair to me. it isn’t fair to you. i don’t care how good this looks for our parents—I don’t want to be here.”

he studies you for a moment before nodding slowly. “i understand.”

you blink. “you do?”

“of course,” he says with a sigh. “you think i want this?” he leans back against the seat, shaking his head. “my parents have been pushing this arrangement for months. i told them i wasn’t interested, but, well… here we are.”

you frown. “so you don’t want this either?”

“no.” his lips quirk into a humorless smile. “but i’ve learned that fighting them is useless.”

you bite the inside of your cheek. you hate that he’s right.

junseo tilts his head, watching you. “listen, i get it. you love someone else. but let’s just… try to get through this for our families. just for tonight.”

his words make your chest tighten.

just for tonight.

except this isn’t just one night. this is your life now.

but still, you nod. because what else can you do?

the car rolls to a smooth stop in front of the grand venue, its entrance lined with red carpet and extravagant floral arrangements. you barely hear the hum of the engine turning off over the noise outside—dozens of voices, camera shutters clicking in rapid succession, the unmistakable buzz of paparazzi waiting for your arrival.

your stomach churns.

the driver steps out first, followed by junseo. the second he’s out, the flashes begin, bright and blinding. you clench your hands into fists on your lap, swallowing the nausea climbing up your throat. this is supposed to be jungkook. he’s supposed to be the one stepping out first, the one reaching for your hand, the one standing beside you as the cameras capture your every move.

but he’s not.

instead, it’s junseo who turns back toward the car, reaching for the door handle. he opens it smoothly, his expression unreadable as he looks at you expectantly.

you hesitate.

for just a second, you think about staying in the car. about refusing to go through with this, about turning around and running straight back home—to jungkook. but then you catch a glimpse of your parents standing at the entrance, their sharp, watchful eyes on you.

you have no choice.

with a shaky breath, you step out.

immediately, the cameras go wild. flashes explode from every direction, voices calling out your name, calling out junseo’s, shouting over each other to get your attention.

you flinch.

junseo notices. his hand brushes against yours—gentle, brief—before he leans in slightly, just enough for only you to hear.

“smile.”

so you do.

you force the corners of your lips to lift, ignoring how wrong it feels, ignoring the burn in your chest. you let junseo guide you forward, let him place a hand lightly on the small of your back as you both make your way toward the entrance.

you feel like you’re suffocating.

but you keep smiling.

because that’s what’s expected of you.

as soon as you step inside, the air feels heavier. the grand ballroom is breathtaking—glittering chandeliers casting a golden glow, perfectly arranged tables adorned with the finest crystal and floral centerpieces. important figures from business, politics, and entertainment are scattered throughout the room, mingling, sipping champagne, flashing perfect smiles.

and, of course, there are still a few paparazzi lingering near the entrance, snapping more pictures as you and junseo walk further in.

you barely hear anything.

junseo keeps a polite hand on your back, leading you through the maze of tables, nodding at familiar faces. you follow in a daze, barely processing the movement—until suddenly, everything stops.

your world stops.

because you see him.

jungkook.

he’s standing near the bar, a glass of whiskey in his hand, dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit. he looks perfect. but he’s not smiling.

he’s staring at you.

his dark eyes are locked onto yours, confusion and hurt written all over his face. his brows knit together, his lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something—but he doesn’t. he just watches you, waiting, silently demanding an explanation.

your heart pounds violently in your chest. you feel frozen, trapped under his gaze, your breath catching in your throat.

why didn’t you think of this before? why didn’t you realize he’d be here?

his family is just as powerful as yours, always attending these events, always making an appearance. you should have known.

but now, it’s too late.

junseo hasn’t noticed yet. he keeps walking, gently guiding you toward your assigned table.

but you can’t move.

you’re stuck in place, drowning in the look on jungkook’s face.

and for the first time since this whole nightmare began…

you feel like you might actually break.

junseo’s voice pulls you back to reality.

“are you alright?”

you blink rapidly, snapping out of your daze. you force a smile, ignoring the lump in your throat. “yeah, i’m fine.”

he doesn’t look convinced. his lips press into a thin line, and there’s something in his eyes—pity.

“i know this is hard,” he says quietly, just for you to hear, “but you need to focus. we have to look like an actual couple.”

right.

you nod, not trusting yourself to speak, and he takes that as his cue to start leading you toward your assigned table.

and that’s when you see them.

your parents.

sitting at the table, chatting animatedly with none other than jungkook’s family.

oh, fuck.

you feel lightheaded. this just keeps getting worse.

but you have no choice.

plastering on a polite expression, you let junseo guide you to your seat, offering small smiles as your mother greets you, as mr. and mrs. jeon welcome you warmly. you sit down between junseo and your mother, trying to focus on the conversation, trying to ignore the way your heart is still racing in your chest.

it’s fine. you just have to get through dinner. you just have to—

but then you see him.

jungkook.

walking toward the table.

your stomach drops.

you grip the edge of your seat, suddenly feeling like you might actually be sick. you don’t look at him. you can’t. instead, you focus on the way your mother is speaking to mrs. jeon, nodding at whatever pointless small talk they’re exchanging.

jungkook reaches the table, greeting his parents first, bowing slightly out of respect before exchanging a few words with your father.

his voice.

just hearing it makes your chest ache.

he’s right there.

but still, you don’t look up.

it’s too much.

so you keep your eyes trained on your plate, ignoring the heaviness settling over the table, the thick tension that only you and jungkook seem to be drowning in.

the conversations continue, light and effortless. you nod when expected, smile when necessary, but you don’t actually process anything. because all you can feel is his presence. him. so close, yet so impossibly far away.

then, mrs. jeon suddenly turns to you with a soft smile.

“y/n, dear,” she says sweetly, “are you and junseo dating?”

the question nearly makes you choke.

you freeze.

your lips part, but no words come out. your mind blanks completely.

you feel every pair of eyes on you.

you don’t know what to say.

but before you can even attempt to respond, junseo speaks for you.

“yes,” he says smoothly, a perfect, effortless lie.

your breath catches.

slowly, hesitantly, you finally lift your gaze.

and you see him.

jungkook.

staring at you.

and the look on his face nearly destroys you.

pain. betrayal. heartbreak.

it’s all there.

laid bare in his dark, glassy eyes.

you want to die.

you push back your chair, standing up quickly. your heart feels heavy in your chest, and you don’t even have the appetite to stay any longer. “i’m going to the bathroom,” you mumble, barely glancing at junseo before walking away.

you just need a moment. a moment to breathe, to collect yourself before you break down in the middle of this event.

but before you can take another step, a hand grabs yours. firm, familiar.

jungkook.

you freeze. you don’t need to turn around to know it’s him, but you do anyway—because there’s no use in pretending.

his dark eyes are wild with emotions you don’t want to face. anger. pain. desperation. “what the fuck is going on?” he asks, voice low but sharp, cutting straight through you. “did you break up with me to be with him?”

your throat tightens. you can’t speak. can’t even look at him.

his grip on your hand tightens just slightly, enough to ground you in the moment. “y/n, tell me,” he demands, his voice strained. “just tell me the truth.”

you inhale sharply, blinking back tears as you force the words out.

“yes.”

his hand drops yours immediately.

you don’t dare look up. if you do, you’ll break.

“do you love him?” his voice is quieter now, but it’s not soft. it’s empty. like he’s bracing himself for the worst.

you don’t answer.

he exhales sharply, and then—“y/n, who do you love?”

the question is so simple, but it shatters you.

because you want to tell him. you want to tell him you don’t love junseo, that you never could. that the only person you’ve ever loved is standing right in front of you, looking at you like you’re the one who broke his heart.

but you don’t.

because if you do, you’ll fall apart.

his question lingers in the air, suffocating you.

“y/n, who do you love?”

your heart is screaming his name. but your lips won’t move. your parents’ words ring in your head, their warning, their expectations. you know what they want to hear. you know what you have to say.

so you do the only thing you can to protect yourself.

you force yourself to nod. “junseo,” you whisper, the lie burning your tongue. “i love junseo.”

jungkook doesn’t move at first. doesn’t speak. just stares at you, his chest rising and falling unevenly. his hands clench at his sides, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

then, without another word, he turns around and walks away.

you don’t even get a second to breathe before the weight of everything crashes down on you.

your body shakes as the sobs start ripping through your chest, hot tears blurring your vision. you don’t care if anyone is watching. you don’t care if you look pathetic.

because the love of your life just walked away. and you let him.

[miffysoo]

super long rant incoming for lads (if you read this i love you to pieces, if not i still love you to pieces): im not always the biggest fan of the reincarnation/past lover trope (which is ironic bc that’s literally the entire foundation of lads lore LMAO) because sometimes it feels like the LI’s are in love with the idea of us seeing as mc in the storyline is the past version of their beloved. i just can’t help but think, like are they actually in love with MC? or are they in love with some other version of her and that’s the only reason they’re drawn to her? it almost feels like they’re projecting who they THINK she is when she’s no longer the same person at all in this current timeline & lifetime.

it almost makes it feel like current mc is “the other woman” in some sense, even though that’s a bit illogical because the past version of her is literally her but so much time has passed, things change, people change, and mc is a completely different person than who she was in their past lives. bc truly, the only one who i feel like truly loves her present day for who she is, is caleb. i would argue zayne to an extent too because he technically doesn’t have any memories whatsoever of his past lives so him and MC falling in love feels like it’s happening for the first time again, it’s a blank slate.

and not to say that the boys can’t grow to love who she is without painting her as her past version, but a part of it feels ingenuine sometimes to me. bc although she shares the same face, the same body, arguably the same soul as her past self, seeing as it’s again, literally her SELF, at the core of it, she’s not actually HER anymore. she’s someone completely different. so sometimes it feels super bittersweet & the lines get blurred. i have a love hate relationship w some of the lads lore for these reasons.

so sorry for the fatass post, but the lore & past life concept in the game always makes me feel hesitant to truly immerse myself into the game (i don’t even actually play the game, everything ik and have seen are from youtube clips that people have uploaded for all the myths, memories, and the overall storyline). this isn’t to say i don’t look forward to new updates and such, i love love lads. but like whenever i indulge in fanfic, especially as a chronic reader of ‘x reader’ fics, i have to separate reader from being MC, which is why i always stray towards non!mc reader bc there’s no tangible lore and past lives/reincarnations attached to a nonmc! reader. at least not to the same extent as the og MC depending on how much the author diverges from canon and just basic background context for reader. but overall imo, non!mc reader just doesn’t carry the same heavy implications of the boys’ true feelings when it’s the actual MC vs a non!mc reader if any of that connected 😔

similarly why i also love iseki/transmigration fics as well; basically any concept where the reader is NOT the mc. bc just like in iseki fics, the boys don’t have the same attachments & feelings towards reader as they do MC. it just feels more sincere imo, idk.

i wonder if im just crazy and have too much time to think & talk to myself about this, or if other players/readers feel the same way. bc ik the whole point of an otome game is that WE are the MC. but ive just never been able to fully immerse myself like that, i see MC as a completely separate character, almost like an OC sometimes. like i just can’t connect or fully enjoy any fanfic with MC being the “reader”. i view MC and reader to be two different people if that makes sense.

and again, im completely aware that as the storyline continues, the boys have obviously shown to care and have deep affectionate feelings (love is a bit too ambiguous imo to truly label that as what they feel for mc) for current mc and its probably only going to strengthen as the story moves forth. but my mind still spirals and thinks about all the “what-ifs” and semantics of reincarnation and past lives. i wish i didn’t think this way, the game and concept of it would probably be more enjoyable all around for me, but i apparently hate myself to think too light heartedly, even for a fictional game/story 😭

truly tho, it’s never that serious, i just had to get that off my chest bc i really don’t know if any other (not sane) person felt this ardent & torn about this as i do, which is a little silly honestly but here we are LMAO 🧍‍♀️ but in the end, there’s something for everyone here in the world of fanfic & delusions! 🫶🏼🫧

[sunflowersonatas]

TOO GOOD TO BE FAKE: CHAPTER 5

JAMES POTTER X F!READER

a/n: YAYYYY CHAPTER 5 OUT EARLY!!! i've been so so appreciative of all the love for this series 🥹 i figured it was the least i could do to get my ass up and edit the rest of it. hehehehe enjoyyyyy!!! ☀️🌻

series page for prev chapters

wc: 2197

5: Too Good to Be Fake

— 1 —

The next few days pass in a blur, and my real life and my fake life begin to meld all the same.

It’s subtle at first—little things, easy things. James slinging an arm over my shoulder in the corridor, without thinking about it, his hand drifting naturally to my waist when we squeeze through crowds. Me leaning into his touch on instinct, him whispering a joke just for me in class, both of us laughing too effortlessly.

The stares haven’t stopped. The whispers haven’t faded.

But somehow, I don’t care as much anymore.

Or maybe—I don’t care why they’re watching.

It’s not just the school anymore, though. It’s our friends. Alice and Jade don’t even try to hide their amusement anymore. Sirius has started giving James looks. Remus has started watching me.

Lily Evans has started paying more attention, too.

It’s another Saturday when I realize how far I’ve let this go: Quidditch practice.

I would never normally go to these. I’ve never had a reason to sit in the stands, watching a group of sweaty Gryffindors hurl themselves through the sky while screaming at each other.

But today, I’m here.

I keep telling myself it’s for appearances. People have to see me invested, have to see me acting like a real girlfriend. I bring a book, find a spot on the stands, fold my legs beneath me, and pretend I’m not watching James too closely.

I tell myself it’s just part of the plan. Making it look believable.

And then Lily arrives.

She doesn’t sit. She stands at the base of the stands, arms folded across her chest, gaze fixed on the pitch. I know who she’s watching, everyone does.

James cuts through the sky like he was born to be there, all fluid motion and instinct, his windswept hair a perfect mess, his body moving with a confidence that’s utterly effortless. The sun glints off his grin, bright and reckless, like he’s drunk on the thrill of it, and I feel that familiar lurch within me again—something warm, something unsteady, curling deep in my stomach before I can shove it away.

Lily tilts her head slightly.

Then, she glances back at me; and suddenly, it’s not just a game anymore. She’s watching me watch him. A challenge, a test.

Suddenly, I realize—this isn’t about her anymore. It’s not about making her jealous, and it’s not about Simon either. Because the thing unnerving me the most isn’t that Lily Evans is watching me.

It’s that James Potter hasn’t looked at her once.

— 2 —

The courtyard is quiet in the early evening, the last flickers of sunlight stretching long across the stone pathways. The air is crisp, cool enough to wake me up a little, but not cold enough to be uncomfortable. I tell myself that’s why I’m lingering here instead of heading back to the dorms.

Not because I’m waiting for him, and not because I know he’ll find me. But then he does.

James’ footsteps are easy to recognize—a little too confident, a little too deliberate, like he’s always walking into a room expecting something fun to happen. But here, now, he doesn’t say anything right away. He just falls into steps beside me, hands tucked into his pockets, like this is normal. Like it’s always been normal.

I glance at him. “What are you doing?”

James shrugs. “Dunno. Seemed like you wanted company.”

I huff, turning my gaze back to the darkening sky. “Oh, right. I always exude warmth and openness.”

James chuckles, nudging my arm. “You say that, but you haven’t told me to leave yet.”

I don’t respond. Because… he’s right.

The pause stretches, the courtyard filled only with the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. For a second, while it’s just the two of us, walking in relative silence, it’s nice. Easy. Comfortable in a way I don’t have time to question.

Then James exhales, a little deeper than necessary, and leans against the railing beside me.

“You know,” he says, “you’re kind of terrible at taking a compliment.” His tone is too light, too airy for the kind of comment he’d just made.

I frown, caught off guard. “What?”

His gaze flickers to mine, and something in his expression softens—just slightly, but enough that it throws me off balance. “I mean, when I do something nice, you just… get awkward and run away.”

I blink at him. “That is— so not true.”

James lifts an eyebrow. “Oh? So last week when I said you looked nice, and you immediately knocked over your drink and changed the subject, what was that?”

I open my mouth— close it.

He smirks. “Exactly.”

I turn my face and look down the path we’re following, blinking, genuinely considering. “You just catch me off guard, that’s all.”

“Right,” he says sarcastically, “because the idea of me being nice to you is so shocking.”

“Yes, actually,” I quip, but the words come out lighter than I mean them to.

And that’s when James does something dangerous.

He shifts closer—just a little, just enough. His shoulder brushes mine, his voice lower now, softer. “You know, I like being nice to you.”

My stomach twists—thrilled, unsteady, completely betraying me. I let out a laugh, too quick, too high-pitched, a little too obviously forced.

James watches me, expression unreadable, but there’s something knowing in his gaze, something patient, like he’s waiting for me to catch up to something he’s already figured out.

“Alright,” I say, pushing away from the railing, not letting this get any more real than it already is, not letting myself think too hard about it. “This has been fun, but I’m going to—”

“Walk away before you have to acknowledge that you actually like me?” James finishes for me, eyes glinting with amusement.

I huff, already turning on my heel. “Exactly.”

I don’t get very far. James is right behind me, catching up too easily, too effortlessly, like he always does. “Merlin, if you wanted me to chase you, you could’ve just asked. Would’ve saved us both some time.”

I throw him a glance over my shoulder, my lips curving just enough to make his eyes flicker. "Where’s the fun in that? I like to keep you on your toes, Potter."

James huffs, but the way he watches me—like he's already planning his next move—sends something dangerously close to excitement skittering through me.

We’re walking towards one of the large entrances to the castle from the courtyard— there are some more students around now to witness our little interaction. He’s still beside me, still too close, still too smug.

“So what I’m hearing,” he muses, tilting his head, “is that you like me exactly where I am.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t speed up. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

James only grins, falling into step beside me like he belongs there. “Too late.”

— 3 —

The castle is cooler in the evening, the last remnants of daylight casting long shadows through the stone archways. The halls are quieter now, but not empty—the low murmur of conversation lingers, footsteps echo in different directions, and clusters of students drift toward their common rooms, pausing now and then to whisper as James and I pass. My footsteps sync with his, the weight of his presence beside me something I’ve stopped questioning. It’s been like this all week—effortless, natural, dangerously easy. And maybe that’s why I don’t notice her at first. Maybe that’s why I don’t realize we have an audience until it’s too late.

Lily Evans is waiting just inside the entrance hall.

She’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, posture relaxed, but there’s something unreadable in her expression. She isn’t blocking our path, isn’t doing anything at all, really—just watching. Watching us. Her gaze flickers between me and James, taking in the casual way we’re walking together, how close we are, the way his fingers brush against my wrist when he gestures absentmindedly.

She sees it all.

James notices her just a second after I do, and though his steps falter, it’s barely noticeable. I feel the shift in his presence, the way something in him tightens, like he’s bracing for impact. But when Lily finally speaks, her voice is light, almost gossiping, like she’s indulging a passing curiosity rather than confirming something she already suspects.

"You know," she says, tilting her head slightly, "you two make sense together. I see it."

And James—James preens.

I see it happen in real time. The way his shoulders straighten, the way his lips curve just slightly at the edges. It’s instinctive, automatic, like some deeply ingrained part of him just got the validation he never even thought to ask for. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t check my reaction. He just moves.

I can’t even react— his fingers tighten around my wrist, spinning me expertly into him. Somehow it feels like we’ve done this a hundred times before, like we’ve been moving toward this exact moment without even knowing it. His free hand settles at my waist, warm and steady, pulling me close in a way that leaves no space, no room for doubt.

And then he kisses me.

It’s not for show. Not a performance. His lips press against mine, sure and unhurried, like he’s settling into something that’s already his. Heat flares at the base of my spine, climbing fast, white-hot flames licking up through my chest. His fingers flex slightly at my waist, like he’s anchoring himself, like he’s making sure I don’t pull away before he’s had his fill of this moment—of me.

The warmth of him crashes through me, a spark to dry tinder, setting every nerve alight. His lips move against mine, confident but measured, and for a second—just a second—I let myself fall into it. I feel the way he’s leaning in, the way he’s holding me there, the way his breath mingles with mine, like we exist in a pocket of air separate from the world.

But we don’t.

The corridor isn’t empty. The world doesn’t disappear. Students slow their steps, voices hush, a ripple of whispers spreading like wildfire. I hear someone inhale sharply, catch the flicker of movement in my periphery as people pause outright, wide-eyed, watching like they’ve just witnessed something they shouldn’t have.

And they have. Because this isn’t a show. This isn’t a play. It’s real, it’s burning through me, and it’s happening in front of everyone.

I break first.

I pull away too fast, too obviously flustered. I’ve probably ruined everything. I should’ve just played along— like he said to me before, enjoy the experience. I could’ve done that. Now I lost my chance.

James doesn’t move right away. He stays close, his breath still warm against my skin, eyes searching mine for something I can’t name. The silence stretches between us, heavy, lingering, filled with something I am not ready to understand.

Lily clears her throat, but she’s smiling now, something small and knowing. She looks between us, her eyes glinting with something close to amusement.

"Yeah," she says, tilting her head slightly. "I knew it. You two are really cute together."

She doesn’t linger. She just gives James one last look—something approving, something almost pleased—before turning on her heel and walking away, leaving us standing there in the weight of what just happened.

I scramble for something to say, but my mind is blank, wiped clean by whatever the hell just happened. My skin is burning, my pulse erratic, my body betraying me in ways I can’t even begin to process.

I force a laugh, light and dismissive, as if my heart isn’t trying to claw its way out of my chest. "Merlin, James," I say, shaking my head, playing it off, forcing the act back into place even as my hands tremble. "You could at least warn me before you go proving a point like that."

James watches me carefully. Too carefully.

And then, just like that, the mask slips back into place.

The easy grin. The effortless charm. The one thing he’s always been good at.

"Where’s the fun in that?" he teases, voice smooth, casual, like he’s not still standing closer than he should be.

The tension in the air is suffocating.

I step back. I need distance, space, air.

"Right," I mutter, my voice too light, too forced. "Well, this has been fun, but I should go—"

James doesn’t say anything. He just watches me, his expression unreadable, like he’s waiting for something I can’t give him. The silence between us stretches, thick, heavy, a question neither of us is ready to ask.

And then, because I can’t take it, because my heart is still slamming against my ribs, because the ground beneath me suddenly feels unsteady—I run.

I barely register the students still watching, barely hear the whispers that are sure to follow me. All I know is that I need to get away, to breathe, to pretend for just a little while longer that none of this means anything.

Run run run.

But no matter how fast I move, I already know—there’s no outrunning this.

☀️🌻 requests are currently open!!

[sweetmisery]

oops, i think i love you | yoon keeho

summary: falling for your best friend was never part of the plan, but when Keeho returns home, teasing turns into tension and a secret comes to light. now you‘re faced with the question: was this always meant to be or will it ruin everything?

pairing: keeho x female!reader

genre: fluff, angst

word count: 8.3k

a/n: sassy Keeho with a little bit of teasing on top makes the perfect match 🫶🏼 thank you to the anon who requested this, i really enjoyed writing it :) hope you enjoooy!! ♡

The soft hum of your phone vibrating on the nightstand broke the silence of your dimly lit bedroom. You reached for it instinctively, already knowing who it was before even checking the screen.

Keeho.

Swiping to answer, you were immediately greeted by his familiar voice, laced with exhaustion but still carrying that unmistakable warmth.

“Yo, you still awake?”

Rolling onto your back, you stared at the screen. “Obviously. Who else would pick up your late-night FaceTime calls?”

His laughter was soft but genuine. The screen stayed black for a moment as he fumbled with his phone, probably trying to prop it up somewhere. Then, his face appeared, slightly disheveled, hair damp, probably fresh from a shower. His eyes were heavy with exhaustion, but somehow, he still looked effortlessly good.

“So,” you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow, “how was the day in the glamorous life of Keeho?”

He groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Brutal. Dance practice for hours, then interviews, then photoshoots… I think my soul left my body at some point.”

“Did you find it again, or is this just your ghost calling me?”

“Not sure. Wanna exorcise me just in case?”

You laughed, shaking your head. This was how it always was between you two - easy, effortless. No matter how busy he got, no matter how exhausted he felt, Keeho always made time to call. It was a small thing, but it meant everything.

“Hold on, let me get comfortable,” he muttered, and the screen blurred as he moved. He shifted until he was lying down, his head resting against a pillow. “There. Now we can suffer together.”

You scoffed. “I’m not suffering.”

“Liar.”

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Lately, things had felt… different. It wasn’t just the same old playful friendship anymore. Not for you.

It started subtly. The way your heart raced when you saw him perform on stage in videos, the way your stomach flipped whenever he sent you a random selfie looking stupidly handsome, the way you found yourself replaying old voice messages just to hear his voice.

And now, lying there, watching him through the screen as he lazily blinked at you, you felt it again - that soft ache in your chest. The one that whispered, this is more than just friendship.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because if you were wrong, if this was one-sided, it could ruin everything.

You took a quiet breath, pushing those thoughts away. “Anyway, are you at least eating properly?”

Keeho smirked. “Look at you, being all caring.”

“Shut up. Just answer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’m not about to starve to death.” He shifted slightly, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “Hey… you good, though?”

The question caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda… off lately.”

Your heart skipped. Were you that obvious?

You forced a laugh. “I could say the same about you, Mr. ‘My Soul Left My Body.’”

Keeho narrowed his eyes like he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t push. “Fine. I’ll let you off the hook. For now.”

“How generous of you.”

You stayed on the call for a while longer, talking about nothing and everything, until eventually, his breathing evened out. He had fallen asleep.

You watched him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. He’d probably scold you for not hanging up, but you didn’t care.

You whispered, just to yourself, “Good night, Kyo.”

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself wonder - what if?

You weren’t even planning to watch the interview.

It had been a busy day, and you were just about to unwind when a notification popped up: P1Harmony’s latest interview was out. Normally, you caught up on these things eventually, but this time, something told you to watch it right away.

So you did.

The interview started off as expected: questions about their latest comeback, funny stories from the practice room, and the usual chaotic energy from the group. You smiled absentmindedly as Keeho joked around, his personality effortlessly shining through the screen.

Then came a question that made you sit up a little straighter.

“Do you guys even have friends outside the group? Or is it just you six, 24/7?”

The members laughed, exchanging knowing glances. Keeho was the first to answer.

“Of course, we have friends! But honestly, we barely get to see them because of our schedule.”

That much was true. He was always busy, always moving, always working. You had long accepted that your friendship existed mostly through late-night FaceTime calls and stolen moments when he was in town.

But then, Keeho continued.

“I actually have a best friend from childhood.”

Your lips curled into a small smile. That’s me.

“He understands my situation really well. He’s always there for me, especially in tough times, and I’m really grateful for that.”

The smile froze on your face.

…He?

Did you mishear that?

You quickly grabbed the remote and rewound the video, listening again.

“He understands my situation really well. He’s always there for me, especially in tough times, and I’m really grateful for that.”

Nope. You heard correctly.

Keeho just called you “he.”

A mix of emotions bubbled up inside you - confusion, annoyance, disbelief. Why would he say that? It’s not like the interviewer asked for your name. He could’ve just said “my best friend” and left it at that. But no. He specifically chose to refer to you as a guy.

You tried to brush it off, but it stuck with you for the rest of the day. So when Keeho called you that night, you were still fuming.

The second you picked up, you didn’t say a word. You just stared at him through the screen, arms crossed, lips pressed into a tight line.

Keeho, fresh from whatever long day he had, blinked at you in confusion. “Uh… what’s with the face?”

You narrowed your eyes. “So your best friend… who is he? And why have I never met him?”

Keeho paused, processing your words. Then, realization dawned on his face, and just like that, he burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he cackled, burying his face in his hands for a moment. “You’re mad about that?”

“You called me he on national television!” you snapped, though the irritation was quickly dissolving into something more playful.

Keeho wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “I had no choice! If I said she, people would start digging and freaking out.”

“Wow. So I’m just some mysterious guy to the world now?” You crossed your arms. “I feel so special.”

Keeho smirked. “Hey, technically, I still called you my best friend. You should be honored.”

“Oh, yeah. So honored.”

He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand. “You’re really pressed about this, huh?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you said, even though your face was still stuck in an unimpressed expression. “Do I look like a ‘he’ to you?”

“Hmm.” Keeho squinted at the screen like he was deep in thought. “Now that you mention it… maybe a little.”

Your jaw dropped. “You are so dead.”

Keeho cracked up again, his laughter filling the screen. “Relax, relax! You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” you muttered.

The call naturally shifted into your usual banter after that, bouncing between playful teasing and casual conversation. Even after years of friendship, talking to Keeho always felt the same - comfortable, familiar, easy.

Then, near the end of the call, Keeho let out a content sigh. “Man, I can’t wait to go home next week.”

Your ears perked up. “Wait- You’re coming back?!”

“Yeah. Finally. It’s been way too long since I saw you in person.” He gave you a lazy smile. “I mean, technically, I see you every day, but you know what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes, but warmth spread in your chest anyway. “Took you long enough.”

“Missed me that much?” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said sarcastically, but the truth lingered behind the words.

Keeho grinned. “Good. ‘Cause I missed you too.”

And just like that, your heart did that stupid thing again - the little flutter, the quiet ache, the feeling you were still too scared to name.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Whatever. Just hurry up and get back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a lazy salute.

The call ended a few minutes later, and you fell back against your pillow, staring at the ceiling.

Next week.

You were finally going to see Keeho next week.

And somehow, that thought made it impossible to sleep.

The anticipation had been building all day.

Keeho was finally back.

You had offered to pick him up from the airport, but he had immediately shut that idea down.

“Too risky,” he had said over text. “If anyone sees us together, it could cause problems.”

You understood, but that didn’t mean you liked it. The thought of Keeho stepping out of the terminal, exhausted from his flight, and having to go home alone instead of being greeted by a familiar face didn’t sit right with you.

Still, you waited.

And then, finally, the doorbell rang.

You practically ran to the door, throwing it open with an excited grin. The second you saw Keeho standing there, his suitcase by his side and a playful smile on his lips, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Whoa-!” Keeho laughed, stumbling back slightly before regaining his balance. Then, in true Keeho fashion, he took things a step further.

Before you could react, he lifted you off the ground and spun you in a full circle.

A surprised giggle escaped your lips as you clung to him, the familiar warmth of his embrace sending a rush of happiness through you. His presence, his scent, even his stupid antics - it all made your heart skip a beat.

When he finally set you down, you beamed up at him. “I’m so happy to finally see you again.”

Keeho smirked. “I don’t even know how you survived without me.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He chuckled and reached out to tousle your hair, messing it up on purpose. “I’m just kidding. I missed you too.”

You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t stop smiling. It had been way too long since you had moments like this.

As you finally took a proper look at him, something about him felt… different. Of course, he was still the same Keeho, the same ridiculous goofball you grew up with, but there was something new in the way he carried himself.

“You look so different,” you said, tilting your head as you took him in.

Keeho smirked and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Glad you noticed that I got super handsome.”

You let out a sharp hiss of disapproval. “Cocky much?”

Keeho burst out laughing, nudging your arm. “I’m kidding! Without my team of stylists, I’d still be that ugly guy from a few years ago.”

“Okay, okay,” you sighed dramatically. “I get it. You are suuuper handsome now.”

You both laughed, the playful teasing feeling just as natural as ever. But there was more to it than just his looks.

“It’s not just that,” you added, suddenly more thoughtful. “It’s your whole presence. You’re more confident now.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow, watching you carefully. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You met his gaze and smiled. “It’s good, of course. As long as you can still be your old self around me.”

Keeho’s expression softened slightly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The moment lingered just for a second before he smirked again. “Now, can we go inside? I need to destroy you in Mario Kart.”

With that, the conversation shifted back to its usual energy, but your words stayed with you. Keeho had changed. And as much as you liked teasing him about it, part of you wondered: was it only his confidence that had changed? Or were his feelings changing, too?

Once Keeho settled in, the two of you ended up on the sofa, falling into your usual routine - lazy, comfortable, and filled with endless teasing. Mario Kart became the game of the afternoon, and soon, the living room was filled with dramatic reactions and exaggerated insults.

“You are so bad at this game,” Keeho groaned as you crossed the finish line before him.

“You’re just mad because I’m winning,” you teased, flashing a smug grin.

“I’m mad because you got lucky,” he shot back.

“Excuses, excuses.”

Keeho dramatically collapsed against the couch, pretending to be gravely wounded by his loss. “How did I ever let you get this good? I trained you! I made you!”

“You did not train me,” you laughed. “You just sucked at the game from the start.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “Betrayal.”

It was stupid, it was childish, it was perfect. Just the kind of moments you had been missing ever since Keeho moved to Korea and his life became a whirlwind of schedules and stages.

After a few more rounds, you finally asked, “By the way, why wouldn’t you let me pick you up from the airport?”

Keeho groaned, stretching his arms above his head. “Because there could’ve been fans there. If someone saw us together, it could start rumors.”

You frowned. “What kind of rumors?”

He glanced at you, as if the answer should have been obvious. “A dating scandal.”

You blinked. “Dating scandal?”

Keeho laughed. “Yeah. If I get spotted with a girl, people will definitely assume something.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind before, but now that he said it, it made sense. To fans, Keeho wasn’t just a normal guy hanging out with a friend. He was an idol, and any interaction with a woman could spiral into endless speculation.

Still, a teasing glint appeared in your eyes. “Would that be so bad?”

Keeho let out an exaggerated “Uh-huh.”

But then, with a mischievous smirk, he added, “Also… just imagine people thinking you and me were dating. Wouldn’t that be so weird?”

Your stomach twisted.

It was just a joke. Just Keeho being Keeho. But for some reason, it stung.

You forced a laugh, shrugging off the strange feeling in your chest. “Yeah, yeah. That’d be hilarious,” you muttered, quickly focusing back on the game.

Keeho didn’t seem to notice the slight shift in your tone. He simply stretched his arms behind his head, completely at ease. “Exactly. So yeah, no airport meet-ups for us. Gotta keep you hidden.”

You hummed in response, but your mind was elsewhere. Because for the first time, it wasn’t just about hiding you from fans. It was about hiding your feelings from yourself.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and playful competition.

After multiple rounds of Mario Kart battles, way too many accusations of cheating, and an excessive amount of dramatic groaning from Keeho whenever he lost, the two of you finally called it quits.

You stretched, feeling the exhaustion from the day start to settle in. “Alright, I’m heading to bed.”

Keeho let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the couch. “Actually…”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Actually… what?”

“Can I just crash here tonight?” He gestured lazily around the room. “I’m too lazy to go anywhere else.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Of course, dumbass. You don’t even have to ask. Make yourself at home.”

Keeho grinned. “Knew I could count on you.”

With that, you turned toward your bedroom, already thinking about how nice it would feel to finally collapse into bed. But just as you reached the doorway, Keeho’s voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You turned back around, finding him sitting up now, his expression softer than before.

“Thank you.”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “For what?”

Keeho hesitated for a moment, then gave you a small, genuine smile. “For everything.”

Your heart skipped. “Be more specific, dummy.”

He chuckled but then exhaled, his gaze turning more serious. “For being my best friend. And mostly… for treating me the same way you always did.”

You frowned slightly. “Why would I treat you any differently?”

Something in Keeho’s expression shifted. He glanced down for a second, as if choosing his words carefully.

“You know… once you become famous, people start treating you differently,” he said quietly. “Or worse, they use you for your fame to get something out of it. It’s hard to tell who’s really there for you and who just wants the advantages that come with knowing you.”

You stayed silent, letting him continue.

“But with you, it’s different,” he said, looking back up at you. “I know I can always be myself around you. I can rely on you without wondering if there’s a catch. So… thank you for that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart beat just a little faster.

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course, Kyo.”

Keeho’s eyes flickered at the nickname, the corner of his lips twitching like he wanted to smile again.

“I’ll always be here whenever you need me,” you added.

Keeho’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave a small nod. “Good night, then.”

“Good night,” you said, offering him one last smile before finally heading into your room.

You shut the door behind you, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Instead, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Keeho’s words replaying in your mind.

You had always known he trusted you. You had always known your friendship was special. But hearing him say it like that, hearing the vulnerability in his voice, the way he relied on you so completely, it made your emotions feel even more complicated.

The boy you had been friends with since forever, the one who had been there through every stage of your life, the one who made you laugh without even trying, the one who had somehow become more attractive every time you saw him, was only a few meters away from you.

But somehow, it still felt like he was far out of your reach.

The room was dark, and the warmth of your blankets wrapped around you like a cocoon. You were lost in the depths of sleep when suddenly, a hand gripped your waist.

A soft breath ghosted against your skin as you shifted in bed, feeling an unfamiliar presence beside you. Your body tensed.

Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the window. Keeho.

He was next to you.

Your heart skipped a beat as your mind scrambled to process what was happening. “Keeho? What are you-”

“Shhh.”

Keeho’s index finger gently pressed against your lips, silencing you before you could say anything else.

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t your usual playful Keeho.

Before you could react, he leaned in.

And then - he kissed you.

Your eyes widened in shock at first, the feeling of his lips against yours sending a wave of disbelief through your body. This was real. This was happening.

But as the initial surprise faded, something inside you gave in. Something that had been buried for too long.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and without thinking, you melted into the kiss.

Keeho pulled you closer, his grip on your waist tightening as the kiss deepened. His warmth, his touch, everything about him felt so intoxicatingly familiar yet completely new at the same time.

You had no idea what this meant. Why was Keeho doing this? What did it mean for your friendship?

But in that moment, you didn’t care.

Until-

You woke up.

Your eyes snapped open, heart pounding. Staring up at the ceiling, you tried to breathe, to process, to make sense of what had just happened. Until it hit you.

It was just a dream.

Sitting up abruptly, you ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady yourself. Your lips tingled as if the sensation had been real, and without thinking, your fingers traced over them.

“What the hell was that?” you whispered to yourself.

As if to ground yourself, you glanced around the room. Everything was exactly as it had been when you went to bed. The blanket was still wrapped around you. The door to your bedroom was still closed.

Just then, the faint sound of running water reached your ears. You turned toward the door, realizing Keeho was still here. He must’ve woken up before you and was now taking a shower.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your hands against your face. How the hell were you supposed to look him in the eye after having such a wild dream?

You sat at the edge of your bed, rubbing your temples. Get a grip. It was just a dream. A very realistic, very intense dream, but still, just a dream.

Shaking off the lingering sensation of Keeho's lips on yours, you got up and made your way to the living room, hoping some fresh air would help clear your head.

The first thing you noticed were Keeho's clothes scattered across the sofa. His hoodie, his sweatpants, his socks, his boxers - all of them just thrown there like he had stripped on the spot.

Your brain was still half-asleep, so it took a second to register why they were there.

And then, before you could process it, you turned around and slammed straight into something solid. No. Someone.

Large hands instinctively wrapped around your arms to steady you, keeping you from stumbling back. The warmth of his skin against yours sent a shock through your body, and when you looked up, you froze.

Keeho was standing right in front of you.

Dripping wet.

His damp, dark hair clung to his forehead, strands falling into his deep brown eyes.

His bare chest was still glistening from the shower, water droplets running down the sharp lines of his toned torso.

And that's when you realized.

He was wearing nothing but a towel.

Keeho was basically naked.

A strangled noise left your throat as you jumped back, throwing your hands over your eyes like it would somehow erase what you just saw.

"Oh my god! Keeho!"

Keeho burst out laughing, completely unbothered. "What? Can't handle the sight in front of you?"

Your face burned. "Put on some clothes, you idiot!"

He smirked. "Why are you acting so weird? You've seen me shirtless countless times before."

Yeah. But this time was different.

This time, your mind was still stuck in that dream. This time, he wasn't just your best friend. This time, you couldn't ignore how attractive he was.

You kept your hands firmly over your eyes, refusing to let yourself look at him again.

"That was before you became a full-on gym rat!"

Keeho grinned. "Oh? So you're saying I look better now?"

You groaned. "Shut up and put some damn clothes on!"

Still chuckling, Keeho ruffled his damp hair and finally turned to grab his clothes from the couch.

Meanwhile, you stood there, refusing to open your eyes, trying to will your heart to stop racing.

After what felt like an eternity of keeping your eyes shut, you finally heard Keeho shuffling around behind you. A moment later, his voice rang out, still way too amused for your liking.

“Alright, alright. I’m dressed. You can relax now.”

Cautiously, you peeked through your fingers, just to be safe. Keeho stood in front of you, now fully clothed in his hoodie and sweatpants, hair still slightly damp but no longer dripping.

You exhaled in relief, pretending like your heart wasn’t still racing. Pretending like you weren’t replaying the image of him half-naked in your mind. Pretending like last night’s dream wasn’t messing with your head.

Keeho smirked, watching you carefully. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said way too fast.

Keeho’s smirk deepened. “Are you sure? You seem kinda… tense.”

“I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “Let’s just- let’s eat or something. I’m starving.”

“Uh-huh,” Keeho said, clearly not buying it, but thankfully, he didn’t push. Instead, he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Alright, food sounds good. What do you have?”

You made your way to the kitchen, glad for the distraction. “Not much. I need to go grocery shopping. But I think I have eggs, maybe some toast.”

Keeho gasped dramatically, cutting you off. “Excuse me? You invited an international K-pop sensation into your home and didn’t prepare a five-star meal for him?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “First of all, you invited yourself. Second of all, you’re getting whatever I have, Mr. International K-pop Sensation.”

Keeho grinned. “Fair enough. I’ll make us something.”

“You can cook?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I lived alone for years. What do you think I ate? Air?”

“Honestly? Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Keeho rolled his eyes but started gathering ingredients anyway. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the sizzling sound of eggs frying in a pan and the familiar comfort of easy conversation. For a moment, everything felt normal again.

Until Keeho suddenly turned to you and asked, “Hey, are you seeing anyone?”

You nearly dropped your glass of water.

Your brain short-circuited for a second before you managed to choke out, “W-what?”

Keeho shrugged, flipping the eggs like he hadn’t just sent your entire nervous system into overdrive. “I dunno. I was just thinking… I’ve been gone for a while. Maybe you met someone.”

Why was he asking this? Why now?

Your heart was pounding, but you forced yourself to play it cool. “No. Not seeing anyone.”

Keeho smirked. “Interesting.”

You frowned. “Why is that interesting?”

Keeho gave you a pointed look. “Because you’re awesome. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

For a second, you forgot how to breathe. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. What were you even supposed to say to that?

Keeho seemed completely unaware of the chaos he had just unleashed inside your brain. He just went back to cooking like he hadn’t just casually thrown you into an emotional crisis.

You took a deep breath, trying desperately to regain your composure. It was just Keeho being Keeho. Playful, teasing, completely unaware of the fact that you had been hopelessly falling for him.

“Well,” you said, forcing a smirk, “what about you? You seeing anyone?”

Keeho paused. It was subtle, but you caught it. The tiniest hesitation. The smallest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Nah,” he said easily, plating the eggs like the question meant nothing. “Too busy for that.”

Something about his tone didn’t sit right with you. Too busy? Sure, Keeho was busy, but that never stopped him from making time for you. From calling you at 3AM after a long day. From flying home whenever he had a break, even if it was just for a few days. If he really wanted to be with someone, he’d find a way. Right?

Before you could overthink it, Keeho slid a plate in front of you and grinned. “Eat up, loser.”

You rolled your eyes, but your mind was still stuck on that tiny pause. That unreadable look. And for the first time, you wondered - was Keeho really not seeing anyone? Or was he hiding something?

The two of you were laying on the couch, watching some random movie, when Keeho’s phone buzzed. At first, you didn’t pay attention. But then, he ignored the call.

No glance at the screen. No “I’ll call them later.” He just reached over and flipped his phone over, screen-down. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Who was that?” you asked.

Keeho stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “No one important.”

Another buzz. A text this time. And again - Keeho ignored it. Your curiosity piqued.

Now, normally, you weren’t the nosy type. Normally, you respected privacy. But something about the way Keeho was deliberately ignoring his phone had your stomach twisting with suspicion.

So when Keeho got up to grab a drink from the kitchen, leaving his phone unattended, you glanced at the screen. Just one quick look. One tiny peek. But what you saw made your breath catch.

Unknown Number: Hey… I miss you.

Your heart stopped.

What. The. Hell.

Before you could process it, Keeho returned, plopping back onto the couch like nothing had happened.

“You want anything?” he asked, sipping his drink.

But you barely heard him. Because your brain was now screaming with questions. Who the hell was that? Why were they saying they missed him? Why did Keeho act like it was nothing?

You opened your mouth, about to say something - confront him, ask him, anything - but Keeho suddenly threw an arm over the back of the couch, stretching out lazily. And then, as if sensing the tension in your body, he smirked.

“Why do you look like you’re plotting my murder?”

You stiffened. “I do not.”

“You do.”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re imagining things.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

He was completely unaware of what you had just seen. And maybe it was the paranoia creeping in. Maybe it was the exhaustion of constantly pushing your feelings down.

But suddenly, for the first time since he came home, you didn’t feel like you knew Keeho as well as you thought. And that thought terrified you.

The breaking point came later that night.

Keeho had gone to the bathroom, and you were curled up on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone. But your thoughts were elsewhere.

Who was texting him?

Why didn’t he answer?

Was he hiding something from you?

And before you could stop yourself, you found yourself reaching for Keeho’s phone. It was sitting on the coffee table, completely unlocked. He trusted you. And you weren’t the type to snoop.

But something deep inside you, something desperate, something insecure, something you didn’t want to name, was itching for answers. So, before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed his phone and opened his messages.

Your heart pounded as you scrolled, searching for the unknown number. And then - you found it.

Unknown Number: Hey… I miss you.

Unknown Number: Keeho? Are you ignoring me?

Unknown Number: I know things got messy, but can we please just talk?

Messy?

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t just some friend. Something happened between Keeho and this person. And he hadn’t told you.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, temptation gnawing at you. Do you click the number? Do you look through their conversation? But before you could decide-

“What are you doing?”

Your whole body froze.

Slowly, dread creeping up your spine, you turned around. Keeho was standing there, dripping wet from the shower, a towel slung around his neck.

His expression? Not amused. Not confused. Just… disappointed.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for an excuse, a joke, anything. But Keeho’s voice came low, serious.

“I trusted you.”

Your stomach dropped. For the first time in your life, you had nothing to say. And for the first time in your life, Keeho wasn’t smiling at you. Your breath caught in your throat. The air between you and Keeho was thick with tension, heavier than it had ever been before.

“I-” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “Keeho, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Keeho let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Didn’t mean to what? Go through my phone?”

Your stomach twisted. “I wasn’t- I just-”

“You just what?” His tone wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t Keeho’s usual teasing either. It was calm. Controlled. But that was almost worse.

You felt the urge to explain, to tell him that you weren’t trying to snoop, that you had just seen the text and couldn’t get it out of your head. But how were you supposed to say that without making it sound even worse?

Keeho exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “You know, I don’t think you realize how messed up this is.”

Your chest tightened. “I know. I know it was wrong. But Keeho- why are you acting like I just betrayed you?”

Keeho scoffed. “Because you did.”

You flinched.

He sighed, gripping the back of his neck like he was trying to stay calm. “Do you have any idea how many people already invade my privacy? How many people already think they’re entitled to know every little detail about my life?” His voice grew tighter, more frustrated. “I never thought you’d be one of them.”

Guilt clawed at your chest. “That’s not what this was-”

“Then what was it?” Keeho pressed. “You don’t trust me?”

Your heart pounded. “Of course I trust you.”

“Yeah?” Keeho let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “Keeho, I saw the text. Someone said they missed you, and you just ignored it. What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to ask me, not sneak around behind my back!”

That made you snap.

“Oh, like you would’ve just told me the truth?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Keeho’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering through his eyes.

The silence that followed was loud.

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “You know what? Maybe I should just go.”

Your heart dropped.

“Wait- what?”

Keeho grabbed his hoodie from the couch, not looking at you. “I think it’s best if I head home now.”

Panic flared in your chest. “Keeho, don’t do that. Can we just-”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said, finally looking at you. But his eyes weren’t filled with the usual warmth. They were tired. Guarded. Distant.

And that hurt more than anything.

Your throat felt tight. “So what? You’re just gonna leave?”

Keeho hesitated, like maybe, just maybe, he was reconsidering.

But then, he exhaled sharply and turned away. “Yeah.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment. You stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space he had just left behind. And for the first time since Keeho came home, you weren’t sure if he was coming back.

One day.

It had only been one day since Keeho left your apartment, but it felt like an eternity.

His absence clung to every corner of the space. The empty spot on the couch where he had been sitting, the unfinished game of Mario Kart on the Switch, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air.

And worst of all? The silence.

Keeho hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. Nothing.

Which meant all you had left was your own mind, replaying the fight over and over again, twisting it around in every possible way, wondering if you had just ruined the most important relationship in your life.

Maybe it was best to just let him go. Maybe you had messed up too badly this time.

But suddenly your phone buzzed.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you scrambled to grab it, nearly dropping it in your rush. And there it was. A message from Keeho.

Keeho: Can we talk?

For a moment, all you could do was stare at the screen, heartbeat pounding. Then, without hesitating, you typed back:

You: Yeah. Come over.

Keeho arrived later that evening.

The second you opened the door, you searched his face, trying to read him. But his expression was… blank. Not cold. Not angry. Just carefully unreadable. That alone made your stomach twist.

You stepped aside, letting him in. Keeho walked past you into the apartment, heading toward the couch like he had done a hundred times before. Only this time, it wasn’t the same.

You quickly grabbed two glasses of water from the kitchen before sitting beside him, but not too close. There was still a strange weight in the air, a careful distance between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was unbearable.

Until finally, you broke it. “Keeho, I am so sorry for-”

“Stop.” Keeho’s voice was firm, cutting you off immediately.

You looked at him, confused.

His jaw tensed slightly before he exhaled and shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Keeho-”

“Seriously.” He glanced down at his hands, voice quieter now. “If anything… I should be the one apologizing.”

You blinked. “What?”

Keeho let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting your eyes.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Your pulse spiked.

Suddenly, the room felt too small, too quiet. The air crackled with tension, thick with something unspoken, something Keeho had been holding back. And as you looked at him, as you saw the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes, you realized - whatever Keeho was about to say, it was going to change everything.

And the question wasn’t whether you wanted to hear it. It was whether you were ready.

Keeho remained silent at first, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. The air between you was thick, every second of silence dragging on painfully.

Your heart pounded as you whispered, “What is it, Keeho?”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering courage.

“When I asked you if you were seeing anyone…” Keeho started, hesitating before his eyes finally met yours. “I asked because… I am seeing someone.”

Your breath caught in your throat. A painful sting spread through your stomach, sharp and unexpected. Did Keeho just- Did he just confess that he has a girlfriend?

You forced yourself to stay still, composed, but the sudden weight in your chest made it hard to breathe.

Still, all you could manage to say was, “What- what do you mean?”

Keeho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought that maybe if you were seeing someone, I wouldn’t have to feel so bad for not telling you about this earlier.”

He looked down, ashamed.

“But I was wrong… I feel guilty. I feel like I betrayed you because I was lying to you.”

Even though jealousy gnawed at your insides, you tried to pull yourself together.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “You didn’t lie to me, Keeho. You just kept it a secret, and that’s totally reasonable. Not every single detail of your life is my business.”

Keeho’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. “But you’re my best friend… and there shouldn’t be anything that makes me feel the need to not tell you.”

You forced a fake, shaky. “It’s okay, Keeho.”

Keeho searched your face for something, maybe reassurance, maybe understanding, but his expression only tightened. “But it’s not what you think.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Keeho hesitated again, like he was searching for the right words. Then, his voice dropped lower. “I think I didn’t tell you because I was scared of how you would react to it. Of how it would change things between us.”

Your stomach twisted.

“What are you saying?” you murmured. “Keeho, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Keeho shook his head.

“But I’m not happy.”

Your heart skipped.

“I tried- I really tried to open up to her,” Keeho admitted, voice strained. “But I failed. I didn’t want to hurt her, but…” His fingers clenched into fists. “I figured that there’s already someone else my heart belongs to.”

Your lips parted in shock.

Someone else.

Someone else.

What… What did he mean?

Was there another person, someone he hadn’t told you about? Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words.

Your mouth felt dry as you whispered, “Who…?”

Keeho looked at you, his gaze unreadable.

And suddenly, everything felt like it was hanging on his next words.

Keeho’s eyes darted down to his hands, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie as he struggled to find the right words. His hesitation made your stomach twist. He was nervous. But why?

“I’m not sure how things will change after this,” Keeho admitted with a sigh.

Your nails dug into your thighs nervously. Your heart pounded against your ribs, fear creeping up your spine. You were scared of his answer. Scared of hearing something that would break you into pieces.

But when he finally spoke, his words shattered you in an entirely different way.

“It’s you.”

Your breath hitched. Your lips parted, but no words came out. Did you hear him right? You stared at Keeho, eyes wide in shock.

He gave you a small, nervous smile, but his fingers were clenched together like he was holding his breath, waiting, terrified of your reaction.

“Please say something,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Or else this is super awkward for me.”

Your mind was still spinning.

“Keeho… I- I don’t know what to say.”

Keeho let out a short, nervous laugh. “Just say something. Anything. Even if you’re gonna break my heart, I won’t be mad at you.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, Keeho. I just- I had no idea you were feeling this way.”

Keeho exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a self-deprecating smile. “Well, that’s because I never told you.”

You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t Keeho teasing you like he always did. This was real. Keeho was serious.

And you needed to say something - anything - to make him understand that you felt the same way. But before you could even form the words, Keeho rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.

“Well… this is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“No!” The word burst out of you before you could stop it.

Without thinking, you reached out and placed a hand on his thigh, your grip firm, desperate. Keeho’s eyes widened, completely taken aback by your sudden reaction.

Your voice softened as you mumbled, “It’s not embarrassing.”

Keeho stared at you, his lips parting slightly, stunned. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage.

“Keeho, I…” You hesitated, then pushed through. “I’ve been feeling the same way.”

Keeho’s body tensed.

You could feel your face heating up, but you didn’t stop.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t even know if I should tell you-” You swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Keeho blinked at you, his expression unreadable.

The silence was heavy, deafening.

Then, after what felt like forever, Keeho let out a breathless laugh. “Are you serious?”

You gave him a small, nervous nod.

Keeho exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Holy shit.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

Keeho stared at you for a moment longer, like he was trying to process everything.

And then, suddenly, Keeho grinned.

A real, genuine, Keeho-style grin.

“You’re telling me we’ve both been idiots this whole time?”

A laugh escaped your lips, relieved, overwhelmed, completely breathless. “Yeah. I guess we have.”

Keeho shook his head in disbelief before grinning like an idiot. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret that you’re in love with me.”

You hissed, narrowing your eyes. “Who says I’m in love? It’s just a little, tiny crush.”

Keeho let out a deep chuckle, running a hand through his hair playfully. “Oh, come on. Stop lying. I know it’s hard not to fall in love with someone like me.”

You rolled your eyes. ��I can’t even believe I like someone as cocky as you.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Before you could react, Keeho lunged forward and started tickling you.

“K-Keeho!” you shrieked, laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

“Admit it!” Keeho said between teasing attacks.

“N-No! Stop!” you gasped, thrashing against him, but he didn’t let up.

You kicked, you squirmed, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard.

“Keeho, please!” you screamed.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, in the middle of his merciless assault, Keeho lost his balance and suddenly he slipped and fell on top of you.

The room went completely silent.

Your breath hitched as you froze beneath him. Keeho’s hands were on either side of your head, his body hovering over yours, his face only inches away. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Your stomach flipped.

Keeho had never been this close before.

You could see every detail - the way his dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, the way his lips were just slightly parted, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster than usual.

“Hey…” Keeho murmured.

Just one word.

Soft. Barely a whisper.

Your lips parted, breath catching in your throat. “What-”

But before you managed to finish your sentence, Keeho leaned in. And then, his lips intertwined with yours.

Your eyes widened in shock.

For a split second, your brain refused to believe this was real.

Was this happening?

Was Keeho really kissing you?

But you quickly realized that this time, it wasn’t a dream. This time, it was real. A million butterflies erupted in your stomach, your whole body tingling at the feeling of Keeho’s lips against yours.

Soft. Warm. Perfect.

And suddenly - you weren’t thinking anymore.

You let yourself melt into the kiss.

Your body relaxed, your hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him in just the slightest bit closer.

Keeho responded immediately, tilting his head, deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving to gently cup your cheek. It was slow, sweet, teasing. Just like him.

Your heart felt like it was about to explode.

Every suppressed feeling, every stolen glance, every unspoken word between you - all of it was pouring into this moment.

When Keeho finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, he let out a soft chuckle.

“You okay down there?” he teased, like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

“No, I am not okay.” You buried your face in your hands. “You can’t just kiss me out of nowhere and then act all casual about it!”

Keeho chuckled. “Would you rather I have given you a warning?”

You glared at him. “Yes!”

“Alright,” Keeho grinned. Then, he suddenly cupped your face with his hand, leaning in way too close again.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched. “W-What?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your brain malfunctioned.

And then, before you could even process what was happening - Keeho kissed you again.

This time, it was shorter, but just as dizzying.

And when he pulled away, he was grinning even wider.

“There. Warning included.”

Your soul left your body.

“Keeho, I swear to God-!”

Keeho cackled, dodging the pillow you threw at him.

“Told you,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, breathless. “Told me what?”

“That you were in love with me.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up, Keeho.”

He just laughed, stealing another quick kiss before finally letting you breathe again.

And in that moment - you realized.

This wasn’t just a crush anymore.

It was so much more.

And it always had been.

The room was still charged with electricity from the kiss, the warmth of Keeho’s lips lingering on yours. Neither of you had moved. Neither of you had spoken. But the question hung in the air between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

“So… what happens now?” you finally asked, your voice softer than you expected.

Keeho exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the couch, deep in thought.

“I guess that depends on us,” he murmured.

Your stomach twisted. “Us.” That word felt so foreign - so new.

Keeho looked over at you, studying your expression carefully. “You’re overthinking, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip. “It’s just… you’re leaving soon. You’re going back to Korea, back to your crazy schedule, back to a life where we barely see each other.”

Keeho was quiet for a moment before he shifted closer, reaching for your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and familiar.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said simply.

You let out a breath. “How can you be so sure?”

Keeho squeezed your hand gently. “Because it’s us.”

Your heart fluttered.

“Yeah, but long-distance relationships are hard. You’ll be busy, traveling, constantly surrounded by people. What if-”

Keeho cut you off. “What if we make it work?”

You blinked at him.

“What if we don’t let the distance change anything?” he continued, his voice steady. “I know it won’t be easy, but I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen. I don’t want to go back to how things were before.”

Your chest tightened. “Neither do I.”

Keeho smiled, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Then we’ll find a way.”

You stared at him, searching for any hesitation, any doubt. But Keeho looked at you like this was the easiest decision in the world.

Like he had already chosen you.

You let out a shaky laugh. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

Keeho smirked. “If you need another kiss to remind you, I’m happy to help.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. Maybe this wouldn’t be easy. Maybe there were challenges ahead. But right now, sitting here with Keeho, his fingers laced with yours -

You were willing to try.

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© sweetmisery - please do not repost my works! ♡