#I must be doing something wrong if this keeps happening 😭😭

[snootchie-bootchies]

Why is love so easy for everyone else and hard for me?

[sovonight]

,

[bunnyrafe]

gassppp bf rafe dragging reader out of a party theyre at after threatening to fight a girl- who she saw practically eye-fucking him :0

does that make any sense 😭

the way i did a little dance while reading this because ABSOLUTELY… reader who does not play about her rafey.

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. 500 f / kook!reader, partying, mentions of drinking & drug use, rafe has met his match, daddy kink, suggestive.

you’re not one to fly off the handle. in fact the first thing people often say about you is how sweet you are. the sweetest girl who loves to party, loves expensive things and being taken care of. that’s how you won over rafe’s heart. perfect for him in every way, even when your nasty temper does happen to make an appearance.

at first, you don’t think much of it when you catch her eyes rake up and down rafe’s form. your vision is bleary due to everything in your system. a few drinks, one or two puffs of rafe’s joint— the usual. maybe you’re seeing things. actually you must be seeing things; there’s no way she’s this fuckin' dumb to salivate over him right in front of you, as you cling to his side and press your glossed lips to his neck.

unbeknownst to you rafe follows your gaze, rolling his eyes when they land on the girl in question. he ducks his head so he can grumble in your ear, squeezing your hip through the material of your pretty party dress in the process— “ignore her, baby.”

“do you know her?” you’re quick to ask.

rafe’s face twists up, “fuck no.”

“good.”

everything’s peachy as it should be until rafe gets up from your side— once he’s up, he leans back down and plants a sweet kiss to your lips. one that makes you grab at him for more, expecting him to pull you away with him to a more private room. instead he whispers against your lips, mimicking your pout— “i gotta go get something, bunny.”

you nod obediently, but don’t let go of his hand until you absolutely have to. “be good,” he mouths to you.

and honestly, that was your plan. to be good. to wait for him like you were meant to. you don’t remember getting up from your spot on the sofa, you don’t remember stomping over to her in your brand new heels. but you do recall seeing her make a move, eyes glued to your boyfriend as he weaves through the crowded house, ready to follow after him.

there are a few voices surrounding you, calling for rafe “cameron, come get your girl.” that was mere moments before you felt his arms wrap around you, tugging you away while you continued to shout and nearly full on bark like some over territorial puppy— “i’ll kill you, bitch.”

of course you didn’t mean it… well. a tiny part of you did.

you keep your arms folded against your chest. rafe’s jacket hangs off of your shoulders as you sit in the passenger seat of his truck. frowning so hard that your cheeks hurt. any kind of buzz or high you’ve had has completely worn off, but sparks go off when your boyfriend grabs at your thigh with a big warm hand, reassuringly rubbing his palm over your skin. he clears his throat, huffing a laugh through his nose… “i mean— all things considered, that was pretty hot.”

“shut up.” you grit through your teeth, drowning in embarrassment.

“nah,” rafe grins, “i’m serious, baby. you’re just— just a little protective over your daddy, nothin’ wrong with that.”

you hang off of every word, happy to still have his approval after your stunt. yeah. he’s right. there truly is nothing wrong with that… and you intend to show him just how much you’re obsessed with him when you two get back to his place.

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

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

word count: 21,858

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

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

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

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

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

Or to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon cries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

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

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

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

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

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

“Open the boot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

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

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

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

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

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t respond. 

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

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

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

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

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

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

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

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

“The longest of my life.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, nodding his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“How are your notes so good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem fine to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun did.

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

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

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

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

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

you: i’ll try..

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

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

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

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

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Are you going to get that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him. He’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “So much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

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

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

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Thx 😁

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. “You can.” 

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

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

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

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

“And this? If you want..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

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

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

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

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[yurislilygarden]

ʚїɞ Self Aware! Hazbin Hotel

ʚїɞ Their reaction after becoming self aware and first thoughts about reader! part 1

ʚїɞ Alastor and Lucifer Morningstar

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ Word count: just about 1.7k

ʚїɞ I planned for all hotel characters first but then I realized how much I'm thinking on each paragraph and its details that I decided to just do 2-3 charas per part😭

Very few characters would notice something wrong on the first watch of the show, but wouldn't realize, nor become self-aware until the 2nd or further watch. 

While everyone's reaction would be different with different amounts of stages before total acceptance of the situation, they all would share the first emotion, simple disbelief. They would first need to even process the fact that they're not real, that they were created solely for the purpose of entertaining… something? Someone? In a completely different Universe. That everything that they thought had happened to them before they died didn't actually happen, they were never alive in the first place. Only after that did the emotions and reactions differ. The very first emotion or actual personal reaction would be:

ALASTOR

Irritation with a hint of madness.

His first thoughts about the situation would be how ironic it is that he seeks entertainment for himself while his own person, no, character, was a source of entertainment for whatever was watching them from time to time. It was quite ironic how he said that his face was made for radio when the truth couldn't be further from that. He was literally created solely to be watched on that funny colored box by… whatever was watching him and the others.

He was irritated at not noticing that something was wrong immediately, now he thinks about how blind he was, how obvious everything was. The city is actually quiet, too quiet when the noise and demons aren't needed, when they're not meant to be heard. Nothing actually happened that one time when he was out for a fix of his coat, it just got magically fixed, he went and came back when someone else decided he was to do so. They didn’t have much actual free will when he thought about it and that's what he was mad about. He thought that his deal was a massive problem to him, oh how wrong he was because the problem was you.

He doesn't know how he or the others didn't notice the small, glowing butterfly flying above their heads from time to time. They couldn't be that blind, could they? The little crystal thing (could he break it?) must have done something to be unnoticed for so long. He wondered how long they were watched for, the little thing above their heads seemed to be speaking sometimes, seemingly knowing what would happen… at least he thought so, the words would cut out so often that he was left with a pure guess at one point.

He didn't want to accept that he wasn't real, that he was just a 2D character with the sole purpose of entertaining someone. He was meant to be the one entertained, not you. But he couldn't actually do anything, could he? For sure not until more of the people he knew were aware. 

That's also something that he noticed. When it came to the hotel staff and guests, he seemed to be the only one who realized the situation at first. It took a few times of some events repeating before he noticed that someone else from the hotel was noticing the little crystal butterfly above their heads as well. 

Alastor seemed to be the first, or one of the very first people who noticed that something was wrong. He wasn't sure if someone realized before him, and if they did then who, but he was somewhat glad that he could finally discuss the topic at least a little once the other hotel patrons found out about the truth. He isn't one to really open up in any way, but this was a matter where he had to communicate with the others.

You. He didn’t know what to think of you at first. He did see you in a more negative light at first, under many emotions hitting him at once which he hated but after he calmed down, he started thinking. At first, he was sure you were some sick person seeking entertainment from the suffering of others, and yeah he was doing pretty much the same, but were you really alike when he wasn’t even real and you were? He was pretty sure that he’s never gonna get used to saying that.

Over time, when he stopped overthinking (he’s gonna deny that he was doing that till the day of his 2nd death), he noticed a few changes. The less negative his posture and thoughts were about you, even if neutral, the more he was able to find out. Alastor was able to pick up more than a few words whenever you talked, he was able to hear you talking clearly enough to recognize a possible gender, and something he wasn’t sure that he wanted to think about, it was way easier to pick up your emotions in your words.

I feel like he would be more lenient towards you if it turned out you were a female (or identified as one), but that would be the mama’s boy inside of him talking. There wouldn’t be too many differences of course, but those who spent enough time around him would be able to tell there's a difference after finding out your gender if it turned out you weren’t a man (again, not too much but it IS noticeable).

He would go from lowkey hating you at first to being mostly neutral with a hint of positive light as you seemed to do nothing but watch, up until later on when everyone is self-aware as well and would talk about the whole thing. Only then would the feelings towards you, the little watcher, as he first called you, turn more positive.

LUCIFER

Massive inner conflict and a complete mix of emotions

He didn’t know what to think. It was hard to comprehend that he didn’t actually live for as long as he thought, that all the things that supposedly happened, in fact never were even close to happening, they were just… a scripted past. 

Was all his suffering for nothing? Was it there just to entertain someone? Did those things who watched them enjoy seeing them sad and hurt? He was simply lost on what to think about the whole situation, it wasn't something that he could prepare himself for in any way beforehand. 

He was disappointed in himself for not noticing immediately or at least faster that something was not right. He's the literal King of hell! Even if… only in a show apparently… but he still is. No one better say anything about that because he's already on the brink of a yet another breakdown. He cannot take much more.

Should he try doing something about this? Or should he stay quiet and go with the script as he's supposed to? He wasn’t sure about the answer himself and had no one to answer his questions. The thought that what he thought were eons of life was actually a lie was… a little terrifying. Who knows just how much can someone force them to do without caring for their opinions because they don’t know that he and the others are aware of everything now, how much can you cause without their consent? He wasn’t sure if you or anyone else knew about them being self-aware or not.

He would actually try to ignore the little butterfly whenever he would see it, but at the same time, many questions were swirling in his mind.

Why were you around? Did you like to see them suffering? Did you have any control over what you saw? Did you have some sort of control over them? Did you have plans regarding them? Did you-

Yeah, again, he has a lot of questions and absolutely zero answers.

His personal feelings about you were all around at first. Not sure whether he should hate, dislike, or be generally negative about you, be more neutral, or be on the more positive side, especially since you didn't seem to do anything but watch them. Like it's all that you could do when it comes to them, but he couldn't be 100% sure.

Similarly to Alastor, he would be one of the characters who noticed something wrong on the first watch of the show before becoming self-aware quite soon after that. I don't think he, nor Alastor, would notice the other knows too fast, since both try to act like nothing's wrong around others. He did not want to be just a 2D character, something to be watched on a screen. It was… humiliating, in his eyes. He could tell that Charlie and the others weren't aware of anything at first so he didn't speak about it until later on when he was sure that they came to their senses, as he would like to say.

He wondered how long were you actually there before he, or anyone else, started to see or notice you, especially since he could literally hear you. Both as the small insect and the occasional words he was able to pick up. And that's if he was to forget the butterfly was literally, softly fucking glowing. Yeah, they're all blind.

I think that if you’re on the younger side, (which technically is any age a human can be alive at compared to him lmao) he would be a little softer, especially if you're similar to his daughter in character. It would come from the paternal side of his, you would probably remind him of Charlie so much :(

He would be more on the negative side at first, as much as he wishes he didn't straight up assume how you were as a person, it took some time but he went into the more neutral zone before being positive about you after being able to hear more of you talking, as he was able to at least have more idea about your character and wasn't completely clueless like at the start.

Your nickname also got changed to something else, something cuter over time, as Alastor’s name for you, little watcher, was deemed not good enough by everyone (Lucifer's words)

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[sxorpiomooon]

What does your younger self think about you? A pac reading

This reading scared the fucking shit out of me guys had to gather alot of courage to do it. Good luck

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Pile 1-

I think pile 1's younger self thinks that they have been indulging themselves in something too much for no reason? Like pile 1 has been too impatient. They might think that you might have started to focus too much on the appearance of things I especially see this for yourself too. This pile might be too focused on how they look overall and I see it causing them harm. "Only understanding the cost of things and not their value" is what I heard. This is so cute but I think pile 1's younger self likes how feminine they've become now? For some reason I had a vision of cinderalla. I think this pile's younger self is super excited about them being able to dress up nicely. I think the younger self also thinks that you guys have more resources than you did back then whether it's in the material sense or people but they're very happy with that. For some of you, if you are trying to get pregnant or alr have kids i see your pile being very very excited and happy about that too. The younger self also thinks that you guys tend to walk away from things too early? Oml pile 1 i hope y'all not gambling n shit😭 anyways they think that just when you are about to win, you decide to leave that thing behind. The main message I get is being patient with yourself also heard "my patience leads to perseverance"

Pile 2-

Your younger self is satisfied with how far you've come. Especially in the emotional sense they think that you have reached emotional stability and know your worth and it makes them happy. Also if you are someone who wins a lot of awards and has a pile of awards stacked up perhaps someone who's also athletic, your younger self is very proud. pile 2 has found themselves. I see that you might have had a lot of experiences helping you in gaining wisdom and whatever you needed to be at this level. Your younger self also loves how sensitive you are and how much in touch with your emotions you are. For some of you, i see that you've not turned out how you would've expected yourself to be(in a good way) so even your younger self is surprised. They love how much of a dreamer you are. However I think this pile has a lot of struggles or tests that life or fate puts them through. You might struggle a bit with authority and communication this I see happening bc of not proper communication I think your younger self wants you to have more clarity regarding that.

Pile 3-

Your younger self thinks that you've lost your way and your sight.

"If you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you."

Is something that I heard immediately. Your younger self might think that you are very trapped and alone misguided in this world right now I keep hearing unreal monsters lure for some reason? Your younger self might also think that you have been lied to or taken advantage of by people? However, your younger self also thinks that alot of things are going wrong simply because you are trying to find your way and as long as you make sure to balance everything especially your priority and as I heard "the life that you want" it will all be ok

Pile 4-

Your younger self wants you to live your life and indulge into things and whatever that you like but they also want you to take a few minutes to see the bigger picture of it every time before you make a decision or do something. "Does it really serve me?" Is something that I keep hearing. Having pleasure and fun is nice but it also must be done to a limit. Me and the devil keep playing in my head and I keep hearing ego. Some of you have to keep your ego in check. Brat keeps playing in my head and I'm seeing a dj party for some reason. Your younger self also thinks that either you alr have or you are going to start a new beginning very soon and they seem excited for that bc that might be the path you are meant to follow. They want you to take the leap of faith and have courage in yourself. They also want you to always keep learning and defend yourself when needed

[rubberbandgirlme]

mamma mia here i go again with another chapter from my leander thesis 🤓 please accept my humble input on mc's curse, the importance of reading between leander's flirting lines and rss's wonderful storytelling details.

ngl when i finally chose not to touch leander's hand first (can you blame me, i'm weak for that man) i was bewildered at how strikingly different the options in this scene play out, and i, strange as it seems, like this one much better.

first of all, it's a parallel (even if it's not intended, the connection is still there) to the opening scene with a deranged traveler: the touch, the sensations, the (foreshadowed) strangling:

leander is definitely affected by the curse — possessed even, i would say, as if he was being told to strangle mc. notice how his actions line up with the traveler's, only in slo-mo, because leander was fighting to take back the control. and when mc calls out for him, he either snaps out of it or gets to the exact point when he takes a hold of the curse. this brings up a question: could mc's curse be sentient? alter the minds, you say? (more under the cut because it got long)

i've seen people speculating that mc's curse might bestow the enlightment but that's not true: mc was told that (and that's why this origin has me by the throat (pun absolutely intended): imagine living with so much guilt, thinking you were doing good, but in fact driving people mad… mmm tasty). it ties perfectly into every origin path where mc was being lied to, deceived and betrayed. however, there's definitely something more to the curse's nature that's yet to be disclosed.

my favourite moment though!! is this nuanced character storytelling!!

the very hand that was inches away from choking mc to death is quickly disguised as caring and soothing. wonder why? to gain mc's trust (non-verbally), to show that leander's in control, he's strong, he's there for mc, he'll take care of them. of course, leander, being a leander, downplays the whole experience of being possessed/affected by the curse, but he's being honest at once. he doesn't lie to mc — and that's also how he's gaining trust, verbally this time.

one more question that begs to be asked: why the hell all of this doesn't happen if mc touches leander first? it seems that the quality of the touch (😭) also plays an important role here:

leander must have felt the power of the curse, but he wasn't possessed by it, he could control it right away — why? because the touch was fleeting? or because it was mc who was touching him, not the other way round?

now hear me out (i might be wrong on this one, because i can't remember any more examples off the top of my head, but i feel like it's definitely a thing. let me know if something comes up!): we should pay closer attention to how leander says the truth (or half-truth), but it could be understood differently at a flirting angle (it's slightly different from this one, where he covers up his misstep). what i think he means here is that he controls the curse, but it sure is a difficult thing to do. "not due to your power" my ass, his need to look strong and heroic and weak at the same time is ridiculous, someone cure this man (ivolunteer.gif)

one more and last thing that's bothering me (it might play into the previous point btw): if you keep touching him, he tells mc that fissures on their hands match his golden pin. why??????? that's such a dumb thing to flirt about, such a weird comparison. what kind of connection is there? it's so out of place, it definitely means something more. leander spill

[noroi1000]

Can you do one with Gojo and his really tiny newborn daughter ( I’m feeling a bit nostalgic because my niece)

When Gojo meet his daughter for the first time. He really taken back because how tiny she is. He like y/n sweetie where is the rest of her? In sweet way of course.

Her tiny little hands can’t even rap her his finger

Even the newborn baby clothes that he got for her don’t fit her. They have to roll up the little sleeves on her onesie😭

He show his baby to everyone and said look how cute she is and how small she is. Also keep asking Shoko is he baby a normal size for a newborn baby and she like yes Gojo.

He just loves his little girl so much.

Basically a really fluffy request Noroi and also Noroi if get any idea or scenarios please feel free to the request the more fluff the merrier🥰

Just really want to see Gojo being all cute with baby girl and wife🥰

Little Loved One

Summary: Gojo have very little daughter.

"I'm late! Sorry!" Your husband ran into the room, not caring to be quiet.

You didn't blame him for being late. Nothing happened. You knew he would be here as soon as he found out about it.

He quickly took off the blindfold and came closer, looking at your condition.

It was obvious that you were tired. But the sparkle in your eyes only proved that you were also happy.

"Where is she?" he asked you, looking around.

"You'll see her in a moment." You said with a smile and reached for his hand, then feeling his fingers gently hold you.

He took a chair and sat it next to your bed, running his fingers over your hand and the wedding ring you were wearing.

"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting. Everything's ready." Another woman entered the room with a small bundle in a blanket. She came to your side, placing the baby in your arms.

Her every step was carefully watched by your husband.

"Are you the father?" she asked with a smile, and then suddenly realized the similarity of his appearance and that of a small child. "Congratulations."

She gave you another smile as she left.

And with his help, you sat up on the bed differently and moved closer to him, showing your little sleeping face. The little girl's slightly pink skin seemed so soft just by looking at it.

His eyes scanned his daughter as she lay there.

He reached out a finger to lightly caress her cheek.

He always thought that babies who were just born were ugly. So pink and they don't move. And they just cry. But not even an hour after she was born, his daughter was so sweet. Fine white hair on her head and only slightly pink skin. And suddenly the child's hand reached for his finger. The tiny hands couldn't wrap around his finger.

"She's so small." he said, moving closer.

"Do you want to hold her?" you asked.

"Me?" He pointed at him.

"Who else? You're her daddy."

"This... What if..."

"Satoru." you interrupted his uncertainty. "She's your baby. Nothing will happen."

With a bit of uncertainty, he stretched out his arms, catching the baby.

She seemed even smaller in his hands! It was as if he could hold it in his hands and there would be enough space.

That's why he was afraid that he might tighten his hand too much or do something wrong and hurt her. With his little child, he can't be the strongest. He must be careful and gentle.

He smiled at the sight of her next to him, and when she moved slightly, he laughed.

How could such a little thing cause you so much trouble for so many months? Even though she was smaller compared to him, she was tiny. How could such a little girl keep you up at night? How could such little legs kick you from the inside?

"Have you named her yet?" he asked, grabbing her hand with two fingers, watching as her tiny fingers tightened on his nail.

"I thought maybe you would want to." You reached up to her head, stroking her little white hair.

And after a moment's thought, he spoke up.

"...Aiko?" He looked at you, waiting for your reaction.

"Aiko... Gojo Aiko. Do you like it?" You smiled. "What does that mean?"

"You could say Little Loved One."

He suddenly gained courage and kissed her forehead.

"Welcome to the Gojo family. My little Aiko."

  "I didn't know you'd be happy with my baby, Utahime." He laughed, leaning against the baby stroller, watching the woman's hand gently touch her little hand.

"Your child is not you. I can't believe this little angel could be like you. Her name?"

"Aiko."

"Even if I could deny it, I see that you are the father..." She looked at the white hair and long white eyelashes.

Gojo is so beautiful, so you both knew that your daughter would be beautiful.

Her daddy is a little overprotective. And you can be sure that her teenage years will be strange.

Satoru who chases all the boys away from his little daughter. This will be a sight you won't regret seeing.

It's all ahead of you, but you know that your daughter will attract a lot of eyes. Just like Satoru. But there will be someone to protect her.

Daddy's little girl.

Because now you constantly see him walking around with her, never leaving her for a moment. It was a lovely sight.

"She's so tiny. Was she born earlier than she should have been?"

"Shoko..." Gojo exclaimed, wanting her to explain.

"Everything is fine with her. But she's just a little smaller than she should be. She should make up for it as she grows. She's just smaller, but there's nothing to worry about."

"That's good. But I'm worried about what kind of father she has." She growled, a vein throbbing in her forehead.

"Hey Hey! I am the perfect father!" he said loudly and suddenly reached for his little daughter in the stroller when she woke up because of him. "Look at that little sweet face! She's happy to have a daddy like me!"

Cuddling Aiko against his broad chest he watched as her eyes opened and he looked at her. Her arms reached out to him as she let out a slightly dissatisfied moan.

"Aww, daddy is here." he moved her higher, watching with glee as her arms flailed around awkwardly. "Don't worry. Daddy will take care of you."

Walking into the room, you wrapped your arms around his waist, snuggling lightly into his side.

Your husband simply loves your family so much.

"It's delicious, isn't it?!" he laughed, giving a spoonful of food to Aiko and she started laughing.

Long legs kneeling next to the baby chair as he fed her.

You couldn't be jealous of your child. He gave a lot of attention to your daughter. But did it matter? She is your child. And you love her just the same. It's impossible not to love this baby.

____

"Hmm... I thought the clothes would fit this time." He groaned sadly, watching as the sleeves on your child's arms were too long.

"We'll go buy smaller ones. These will come in handy later." You stroked his arm soothingly, leaning into the kiss he gave you.

"I'm waiting for her to grow. My little one~."

____

"Look at her! She's so cute!!!!" His voice was howling as invisible arrows pierced his heart.

Your daughter just hugged a teddy bear that was almost bigger than her.

Isn't it perfect to see your husband with your daughter?

He who is constantly taking photos.

A man who was afraid to take her in his arms because he was afraid he would break her. Now he could take her everywhere with him. Because he doesn't want to leave your side.

The old worries about your daughter being tiny disappeared as she started to grow. She started to be like a normal child her age. Even though she was still tiny in your husband's hands.

He couldn't help but love his family.

Gojo's family is not so small anymore. Now he has two people he loves more than life itself.

And only one question appeared in his mind as he held his sleeping daughter in his arms.

"Honey, could we have another baby like this in the future?"

[furuyalover]

4:52 pm

— ft. kuroo tetsurou

includes: a cute lil impromptu study date

it’s april and we all know what that means, finals season. right now it’s just you, your laptop, numerous papers and notebooks, and an iced matcha latte enveloping you in the cozy cafe atmosphere. you’re trying study for your calculus test tomorrow and you’re pretty focused, for the most part.

about ten minutes ago you glance up from your studies where you notice a familiar face across the cafe, kuroo tetsurou. while you’re decently close with your classmate and you’ve made conversation with him numerous times, you figured both of you are too busy with your work for you to approach him right now. however you can’t seem to get the striking captain out of your head. you’ve always had an admiration for him but some would say it’s more like a crush… so after a solid 15 minutes of pretending to do work and pondering what to do, you finally decide to maybe shoot him a text!

y/n: hey am i tripping or is there an obnoxious volleyball player studying across from me?

kuroo: obnoxious is a strong word 😒 u also studying for the calc test? 😭

y/n: kind of …. not doin too hot rn

kuroo: oh well you’re in luck then

and just like that you glance up from your screen and notice him begin to gather his things and make his way towards you. the middle blocker plops himself down on a seat next to you and begins unpacking his bag. “don’t worry princess im here to save you from your calc demons.” your flutters a little at the sudden nickname, but you keep your composure with a quick retort “ok woah im not doing THAT bad.” “then why is your study guide blank?” damn, he got you there. “whatever you gonna help me or what?” since he’s a man of his word he opens his notebook helping you review what you’ve learned these past classes, and working you through each problem better than khan academy ever could. he’s concise but sweet, making sure to comfort you every time you’re overwhelmed or not sure how to solve a problem. you’ve never seen this side of him, you’re used to dealing with his cockiness and sarcasm and this caring demeanor is something new to you.

but just like that an hour and a half has gone by and you’ve both successfully gotten through all your homework! where did all the time go? you wondered to yourself. embarrassingly, you’re kind of upset that you’re study sesh has come to an end. you’ve always wanted to go out with kuroo outside of class, and this is the closest you’re ever gonna get to that. “oh well all good things must come to an end” kuroo says, almost defeated you thank him for all his help while you start packing your things.

“actually wait before you go,” you stop what you’re doing to look up at him, wondering what he possibly need. surely he’s just gonna ask about something from class right? wrong. hes flustered. almost red even. scratching the back of his neck he finally looks at you and says “i really enjoyed hanging out with you, and i just wondered if you wanted to do this again sometime?” you’ve never seen him so nervous before, so you let out a small smile with a slightly confused look on your face. “what, like study?” your smile ends up giving him reassurance and just like that his confident demeanor is back. he grabs your hand and says “well that’d be a pretty boring date don’t ya think?” grinning before placing a chaste kiss on your hand.

you look down to try and hide the rosy blush that now plastered your face (too late he already saw it). flustered by his sudden advance you look up and match his confidence arrogance with your own. “alright then, but if i don’t get an A on this test im rejecting you”

“oh like that’s ever gonna happen” you roll your eyes, but he has a point.

reblogs appreciated and admired ૮₍ ˃ ⤙ ˂ ₎ა

AN: ahhh this was so fun to write <3 love love loveee writing some friends/classmates to lovers drabbles !! hope u guys enjoyed this lil piece i whipped up :)

[wqnwoos]

minghao knows he’s in a mood again, but frankly, he couldn’t care less.

his whole day had just been wrong, and he’d set about it with a frown marring his features and a biting undertone to everything he’d said. it just happened sometimes — one of those bad, awful days where nothing goes right and it feels like everything’s against you.

it was when he snapped at jun that he finally gave in, retired to moping in his bedroom. his roommate had said he understood — jun had plenty of his own bad days, after all — but minghao still feels awful about it. he’s still too irritated to apologise — he will do it, though, he promises himself.

for now, he’s thrown himself on the covers of his bed, staring at the ceiling listlessly, and blasting music through his earphones — loud, but not so loud that he doesn’t catch the soft sound of the doorknob when you twist it, and slide yourself into the room.

you do it almost apologetically, a regretful smile directed towards him. you don’t even speak, just make your way over to his side.

minghao wishes he could be annoyed, but he never can be, at you. you’re his best friend, and maybe something more that he’s not quite willing to accept yet. it’s lurking, though, at the bottom of his chest, and it pushes up every so often — like now, as you take a seat on the edge of the bed, almost as if you’re unsure; uncertain if you’re welcome here or not.

you always are, but he doesn’t quite know how to say that yet.

instead he thinks about how he knows jun must have called you, just as he knows you, too good for this world, dropped whatever you were doing to come and talk to him.

not that you’re doing much of that — talking, he means. you’ve only flopped beside him on the white duvet; and yet it’s enough to relax a little of the tension in his limbs.

it’s so easy to be around you.

it’s so easy to offer you an earbud without even looking. it’s so easy to close his eyes, slip his hand into yours. it’s so easy to interlace his fingers with yours too, squeeze gently, keep his eyes shut, pretend.

and then suddenly it gets hard. when you shift slightly, card a hand through his dark hair like you’ve always been doing it — you’ve never done it before, he hopes you do it forever — and you blur the lines even more. that makes it harder, harder to breathe with your careful hand against his cheek, the smell of your conditioner against his lips, he can’t breathe, he thinks he loves you.

you move back slightly. the moment is gone, he can breathe, but the lines are still blurred and you can’t unblur them. god knows he doesn’t want to redraw them.

your hand slips back into his, and squeezes. his eyes flutter open — yours are shut — your breath catches — minghao realises, then.

“oh,” he whispers softly. and it’s his turn to brush your cheek with slender fingers, but he’s always been the braver of you two — he leans, he brushes his lips against your cheek too.

you might not be able to call it a kiss, but maybe you could call it a confession.

an / guys i think this might be one of my fav things i’ve ever written which is so annoying because it starts off kind of badly 😭 but also it’s 12:17am and i’ve slept like 4 hours max in the last 24 hours so my judgement may be misguided. idk. possible deletion when i wake up ⁉️

[24hlevi]

Lottie Matthews x innocent gn reader 😭😭

anon i love you for requesting this thank you 🫶

— Lottie With An Innocent S/o

lottie matthews (yellowjackets) x gn!reader

warnings: language, light manipulation (oops), some nsfw under the cut

- pre crash wise it's super cute being with lottie and you being innocent like having never smoked before or even had a sip of alcohol, she finds it really cute

- the way she will be flirting with you and you have literally no clue that's what she's doing is a little funny to her but when other people try to flirt with you and you don't realize she has to interrupt and explain it

- though she wouldn't really get jealous because of your innocence, she would more be irritated at the other person for continuing even though it's evident you aren't seeing it that way

- lottie will take you to parties all the time but isn't going to force you into doing anything that everyone else is doing like drinking and smoking cigarettes or pot, but if you do, she gets internally ecstatic and will have much more fun

- the other girls probably tease you about being so innocent and such but lottie will always defend you and say how adorable it is and that she doesn't want you to change

- post crash wise things get a little different, especially once reaching the cabin and things slowly turn to shit

- lottie will become 10x more protective of you after the crash, she is by your side 24/7 and isn't leaving you alone for more than ten minutes cause she's worried that something will happen to you

- when things start spiraling into chaos it will get worse and she might force you out of that pure innocence to realize what the situation is and how it's essentially fucked and they must do what they have to do to survive

- once lottie becomes the antler queen she will still keep you around her constantly and will definitely get you out of being so innocent and be on her side for everything, even if you don't want to you will have to

- don't get her wrong, though, she still loves you the exact same way, she just doesn't want you to accidentally get hurt or worse because of your innocence and morals, therefore she will get you out of that mindset

- on the other side of things, lottie loves your innocence when she's alone with you, slowly trailing kisses down your neck and seeing the way your eyes widen as she starts to leave tiny bites makes her want you even more

- she was probably your first, and she was so gentle and loving with you, making sure you were 100% ready and comfortable before doing anything and going slow

- she really likes leaving hickeys on your thighs where no one else can see them but she knows they're there and the fact she's the only one that knows has her a little possessive about she's the only one you let do that

- she'll definitely make you say what you want before she does anything, purely wanting to see you get shy over saying it and the blush that spreads on your face

- the thought of corrupting you lowkey turns her on, just wanting to ruin that innocence and make you scream her name every other night and turn you into her little slut

[bg-brainrot]

Have you ever wanted to give Astarion more hugs? Because I did. So I wrote 34K words just to give him more hugs. It's Hugs for a Vampire, literally just uploaded the last chapter.

It's my first finished long fic ever and I feel this weird little pride so I wanted to gush about it. Please enjoy a few of my favorite snippets below (spans the game so beware spoilers), but this thing has a bit of everything.

You want figuring out boundaries? You got it!

You’re not sure how much of it is a choice that you’ve consciously made or if it’s born of your underlying worry. It hasn’t been long since you entered this new phase in your relationship, and the past couple of weeks have been a lot of trial and error to get to a place of some comfort and understanding. As such, you know exactly why you’ve been careful, consciously or not. “I don’t want to touch you if you’re not ready for it,” you say, tilting your head toward his, whispering your words away from the rest of the group.

The vampire freezes a moment, his eyebrows knitting into a look of concern. “While I appreciate the sentiment, darling, a hug isn’t exactly carnal .”

You give him a flat look. “Of course it isn’t,” you respond back. “But it’s still… intimate. You should be allowed to decide when that happens. If you hug me, I know you want it to happen.”

Astarion finally uncrosses his arms, only to rub at his temple in exasperation. “Ugh, you’re being disgustingly considerate,” he says, closing his eyes. “It’s times like this that I wonder how we’ve even gotten this far.”

You want a smidge of angst? Of course.

Astarion’s arm around you shifts, an attempt to pull you closer. You turn to face him and lean in to help his efforts. He gives you a sad little grateful smile, and tucks you into his chest, your head resting just below his chin. When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper, a low rasp to it, “I’m here, dear. We’re in this together.”

Nodding into his chest, you take a few steading breaths. “I know,” you say. “But is it too much to ask for a break every once and a while?”

“Darling,” a cold kiss graces your temple before he continues, “I’ve been asking myself that question for two-hundred years.” His words aren’t meant to elicit sympathy, just reality, and you both soak in it for a while. Laying in each others’ arms, bodies too exhausted to move, spirits too broken to speak, you allow yourself to weep.

You want calling Astarion out on his bullshit? For sure.

“Gods,” he breathes out in anguish. “I can’t say you’re wrong. I can only say I'm so glad we didn’t meet then. I don’t even want to think what would have happened to you…”

You’ve never been above challenging your lover’s sullen moods, facing his avoidances head on. So you stare him down fiercely when you say, “Don’t you avoid this, Astarion. Face it, like you must face them. You would have killed me.”

And just like that, something in him buckles. All of his blustering blown away in the stark reality of his previous life. “I would have killed you.” Astarion’s shoulders bow, his head turns away from you and it’s all you can do to hold back a fierce, rib-shattering embrace.

You want fluff? Hell yeah.

You’re ever the slightly more responsible of the two of you. “I always thought that the day we got thrown into prison together it would be for theft, murder, maybe racketeering– not public indecency.”

“The night is young, dear,” he says, smiling up at you innocently. "I wouldn't rule any of them out quite yet."

You plant a small kiss on his head and respond, “You are an utter fool.”

You want an ending where he doesn't run off on his own and break your heart? It's only natural 😭

Sniffling, tears trailing down your face and onto his neck, you know your voice is barely there. But you need him to know. You whisper to him, “We’re all here for you. You’re safe with us.”

And like a stubborn lock that finally gives, he collapses into you. His full body weight bears down on you, and it’s all you can do to keep from toppling over. Yet you remain solid, fully ready to support him as long as he needs.

Anyway, I just wanted to be excited, if you read this far ty I appreciate you and pls how do I get this vampire man out of my head 🥲

[crusty-chronicles]

Hi can I request an angst to fluff scenario of having an argument with Kite? Just thought that'd be interesting. Really love your works btw Sun and Moon just💛😭🫶 So happy to find an active HxH blog too😭😭😭 thanks!

An: Bon Appetit. 😈

Kite isn't the type to get mad easily. He prefers seeing things with a clear level head. Usually managing to avoid confrontations all together. He's not very quick to anger when he's frustrated or irritated either. But when it comes to your safety, he can't help but snap a little.

Just what the hell had you been thinking!?!

You'd been contracted to study a rather large type of protected species. It was out of Kite's level of expertise, but the job promised a surprisingly decent pay. One neither of you could turn down. 

Everything started off fine at first. Watching the creature from a distance and gathering data. It was on the third day you noted it had a cub. You both promised to be extra careful from then out.

He should've known something would go wrong. Nothing ever went off without a hitch when you were involved.

The creature had left its cub unsupervised to look for food. And unfortunately for the small critter, it was being hunted by something much larger. It let out a screech seeing the predator and made a dash to the left. But it just wasn't fast enough.

There was always an unspoken rule between you two. You were observers. Whatever happened, you weren't supposed to interfere. Your job was to gather data and report back to your contractor. To let things play out the way they were intended.

However, it was something you struggled with. Kite didn't have the chance to react before you rushed forward. Picking up the cub and quickly subduing the other creature with your nen. He sent you a disapproving look when the shock had faded. Getting up from his place on the ground and making his way towards you. Your expression was pleading, preparing for the scolding that was about to come.

“It would've died.” You said before setting down the small creature.

It was always the same excuse with you. You liked to help, which inherently wasn't bad. But this was not the time nor place for that. You were just lucky this time the creature had been small. Still, he couldn't help but scold you for getting involved.

“It's not our place to meddle in-” But something had caught his eye before he could finish.

From your left came the mother of the small cub. Charging forward in an attempt to protect its baby. Instinctively, Kite summoned his ability and swung. He wasn't counting on you blocking his scythe with your own ability.

You were too naive. 

Wanting to protect the mother because you understood the animal's fury. It was only trying to keep its cub safe. It's that rational that has you forgetting another important rule. Any animal that attacks a human must be put down, or else it'll continue to do so to anyone that crosses its path.

Yet you ignored it. The beast had an unforgiving look in its eye, one that let him know it was about to attack. And as soon as your back had turned, the creature struck. Claws tearing through your back.

He was angry. Absolutely furious…But he was scared too. Scared he might've lost you. All due to your carelessness. Your way of thinking that somehow always led to you getting injured.

Which brings you two to where you are now. Kite chewing you out once you reached your hotel. Calling the mission off to take care of you.  

“If you'd have just waited instead of jumping in headfirst like you always do, we wouldn't have been set back weeks of research.” It was not at all what he meant, but he was too frustrated to choose his words carefully.

Unfortunately, it led to you becoming more defensive as well.

“What the hell's that supposed to mean!?! It's not like I go out actively seeking trouble. And you're one to talk. We would've been just fine if you hadn't attacked first!”

“If I hadn't attacked first, it would've gone for your throat! You wouldn't have moved out of the way in time.” He argued.

Steadily, both of your voices had risen. Bordering on yelling at each other.

“I'm not some amateur unable to avoid being hit. So stop treating me like it! I'm a pro hunter just like you, yet you're always underestimating me!” You pointed out.

“You're reckless. You can't take on a job without something going wrong. And you never learn from it either. You think just because you got out fine this time, you can keep repeating the same mistakes. It's hard to work with someone who just doesn't listen.”

“Then maybe I should just quit!” You shouted.

“Maybe you should!”

The silence was deafening. Your eyes widening in shock. Kite's expression quickly changing into one of regret. He shouldn't have said that. He doesn't know why he did in the first place. Trying to backtrack before it was too late.

“I didn't-” But you'd cut him off.

“Don't.”

There was nothing but ice in your tone. One that was reserved for when you were angry. When you hated something. He tried to approach you, but you backed away. 

“Just leave me alone.” You said before going into your room. Slamming the door closed and locking it.

You never locked the door.

He let out a drained sigh, mulling over what just happened.

Of course he didn't want you to quit being a hunter. You were good at your job, and he could never ask that of you. The same way you’d never ask that of him. You were just too risky for his liking. And taking as many chances as you did usually meant death…or worse. Especially in this line of work. 

You thought he was underestimating you. He never did. You were more than capable of taking care of yourself. He was just protective of you. Holding you back from doing the more dangerous things because he didn't like to see you hurt. He never wanted to risk your safety. It didn't occur to him that it looked like he thought you were inexperienced. That you were weak.

He just hoped you'd calm down soon so he could properly explain himself.

—--------------------------

You were angry. Pissed beyond belief. But more than that you were hurt.

Were you really that much of a liability he actually suggested you quit? Did Kite hate working with you that much? Thinking you were just getting in the way of completing jobs?

Did he really think that little of you?

Fine. You'd never take on another mission with him again. You two were used to working alone anyways. He wouldn't have to worry about you ‘screwing things up’ again.

You winced at a wave of pain washing over your back. Reaching behind you to soothe the ache. Your expression softening when your fingers skimmed the bandages covering your wound. 

The first thing Kite did when you got back was tend to your injuries. Putting all his focus into taking care of you. Making sure you were okay. 

He…always put you first.

The thought had you feeling guilty. He put up with your impulsiveness and here you were internally cursing him out. He even went as far as to cancel the mission when he could have continued on his own. 

Maybe you really were dragging him down.

At the very least, you were putting him in danger. Rushing in because of your own morals and making him go against his own. Adding yet another useless kill to his credit.

Perhaps you should quit. It'd be a lot less stressful that way.

—------------------------

A whole day. You ignored him for a whole day. He'd be lying if he said it didn't kill him a little inside. You were right there, and still he couldn't reach you. He understood that you needed your space, but he wanted to talk to you. To hear your voice.

He remembers why you started working together in the first place. You hated long distance. Planning and searching for the rare days your schedules would actually line up. He hated it too. Coming home to your shared apartment only to find out he just barely missed you.

When you two were working together, everything just fell into place. Neither of you wondering when you'd see the other. 

If you quit, it'd be back to square one. If you decided to stop working with him entirely, he doesn't know how he'd handle it. Knowing the chances of you coming back to him were slim. He thinks he hates both possibilities more than you ignoring him.

He was sorry for blowing up at you. For saying things he didn't really mean. But he wasn't sorry for being worried. He wasn't sorry for caring about your safety.

He went to knock on the door at the same time you opened it. Both of you stared in shock at the other. Neither of you knew what to say. Who should speak first. Yet despite that, both of you could tell the other wasn't angry anymore. Eyes regretful with a certain softness in them.

“I'm sorry.” You said at the same time, effectively baffling each other.

It was funny in a way. How both of you seemed to come to your senses at the same time. 

Kite spoke up first, effectively breaking the silence.

“What are you sorry for? You didn't-”

“I was reckless…and stupid.” You interrupted, failing to notice the subtle way his eyes softened.

“I shouldn't have interfered.” You should've stayed put.

“I just don't like to see animals suffer if I can help it. It's why I became a hunter in the first place. But maybe that bias is why I should quit. I don't wanna hold you back.” You explained.

You were expecting an ‘I told you so’ at the very least from him. Instead, he pulled you close. Wrapping his arms tightly around you. You realized you've been craving his touch. His warmth. Retuning his embrace and resting your head on his chest. 

“Don’t quit.” He said quietly, holding you just a little bit tighter.

You thought you were holding him back? If anything, he might've been the one holding you back. He wanted you to know that he trusted in your skills and abilities. He knew you were more than capable of handling what came your way. But he would always be scared of the slim chance you couldn't.

“I only said it for my own peace of mind,” he started.

“Our job is dangerous. It has all sorts of risks and trouble. Getting hurt is part of it… That doesn't mean I enjoy seeing you in pain.”

It hadn't occurred to you until a few moments ago how strenuous it must've been for him to see you hurt so often. How unfair it was. 

“I don't ever want to lose you because I didn't react fast enough. I know you don't need me to protect you, but I can't help it sometimes. You're one of the most important people in my life.”

The confession has you melting even further into his arms. How lucky you were to have such a wonderful partner. Unawares he was thinking the same about you. You pulled away just enough to look up at him.

“I'll be more careful.” You promised.

He met your eyes and leaned down. Resting his forehead on yours.

“I won't butt in unless you ask for my help.” He swore, sealing both promises with a kiss.

—------------

[minnielvr]

cold chocolate - kim seungmin

˚ ༘ pairing bf! seungmin x fem! reader

˚ ༘ genre fluff, angst!!, seungmins a bit of a meanie :(

˚ ༘ wc 3.4k

˚ ༘ note never writing smth this long (okay 3k words☠️) again idfk how sum ppl do it😭 sorry if this bad guys i cant write rlly good🦦merry xmas!!!

"hey y/n can you come out here?" seungmin called to you from your guys' living room.

"yea whats up babe?" you went over to the couch and sat next to him.

"promise you wont be mad?" he looked at you and raised a brow while grabbing your hand.

"oh god seungmin what did you do now?" you chuckled. obviously you thought that whatever he was going to tell you wasn't that shocking and he was just exaggerating, but you were so wrong.

"no y/n this is serious."

"o-oh okay. uhm whats wrong?" you were starting to get nervous now. does he want to break up? did he cheat on you? a million thoughts raced through your head but not one of them was what he was about to tell you.

"i'm not gonna be home for christmas.." he said it so casually as he looked down in his lap.

"oh."

now usually missing holidays wouldn't be such a problem for you two, except christmas. you guys dont really celebrate anything other than valentines, chuseok, and birthdays, sometimes you guys dont even celebrate birthdays. but christmas? it was a must. you were going to go back home to your family with him for the first time. he had even said yes. now all of a sudden he cant? whats more important?

you inhaled a shaky breath and asked, "why?"

"well you know, we have practice to do, and we have to record some things. so i'll be staying at the dorms." he shrugged and let go of your hands. thinking you were fine.

now that pissed you off. practice? recording? he couldn't skip one week of work for christmas? he was never like this, he has never put his work over you.

"seriously seungmin?. you cant just skip a week of work for christmas? you're putting 'some practice' over me?" you looked up at him with an open mouth.

"no y/n, i cannot." he glared at you. why was he giving you attitude all of a sudden? its not like you're the one who will be missing christmas.

"care to explain why?" you crossed your arms.

"dont you get it y/n? my work is harder than yours, you literally do nothing but sit down at a desk all day and book peoples appointments," he slowly started to raise his voice. "you dont get it all. i cant just be home all the time to give you attention. since when were you so clingy?"

you stood up from the couch and backed away from him, scared of him yelling at you. were you really that annoying? your eyes started to water.

"seungmin wh-why are you getting so mad? i'm just asking you to take a week off for christmas, im sure they'll let you. beside you need a break too." you said while looking down, trying to avoid eye contact so he couldn't see your tears.

"i'm mad because you're annoying! i dont want to take a week off. i cant be with you all the time y/n. leave me alone." he turned to the tv and turned it on, acting as if nothing happened.

at this point there were tears running down your face. how could he be so rude and say something like that? sure you guys have had arguments before and said things, but never like this. he the level-headed one in the relationship. he always keeps his cool during arguments because he knows how upset you get.

maybe it is your fault though. maybe you ask for too much attention and let him do all the work in the relationship. maybe you should leave him alone until christmas is over.

"okay. i'm sorry that im too clingy. i'll just leave" you turned around on your foot to go get your backpack with all your things. you'll stay with a friend or something. maybe you were overreacting a bit but you didn't really care, how could your boyfriend just ditch family plans for christmas like that?

"yea whatever, i dont care" and he dismissed your statement just like that.

now that hurts.

one of your best friends since you were 5, areum, was jeongins girlfriend. you and her were out one day and saw the two of them together, jeongin asked for aerums for her number first and seungmin asked you out a few weeks later. the rest is history.

you just arrived to aerums house and she graciously welcomed you in. seeing the tear stains on your face and your nose red, she figured you had walked here. she was correct. on the way out of your and seungmin's shared apartment, you had forgotten your car keys. but by the time you realized you were already too far down and didn't want to go back up to grab them, especially because seungmin would probably still be in there.

"so? tell me what happened babes" she guided you over to her couch and sat down next to you.

you explained what had happened and she fully agreed with you on your view of the whole thing. i mean, if he already said yes to the plans, why would he switch up all of a sudden? and seungmin would usually take a sick day or soemthing if you asked, he cared about you a lot. you're not saying that he has to prioritize his work over you, but the least he could do was tell you in a nice way or just take a few days off for christmas.

"but wait. that doesn't make sense.." aerum furrowed her eyebrows.

"huh? why?" you looked up at her.

"jeongin said that they have a little christmas break or something like that. i mean, we aren't going anywhere but he said that the boys have no schedules and practices," she looked at you nervously. "do you think that maybe seungmins lying to you?"

well he definitely is, theres no question about that. you just didn't want to believe that he would actually lie to you about something like this.

"n-no he would never..," you looked down in your lap. "oh my god he doesn't want to see my family. he probably thinks i'm rushing into it right? but we were supposed to go to his parents house after that, how is that fair?" you were coming up with all these excuses to not make him look like the bad guy in this situation but there really isnt any. he lied to you and called you cling and annoying. thats the hard truth.

"hey hey calm down its okay," aerum side hugged you and started rubbing your shoulders. "i'm sure it's just a little problem with miscommunication hm? it could be fixed like this." she snapped her finger.

"y-yea of course." you hiccuped. "can i just stay here for the night though? i don't feel like going back yet." you looked up to aerum with wide, teary eyes.

"aw of course honey." she squished your cheeks. "go shower and i'll get some food ready for us. we can watch a movie." she smiled at you and tapped your back to usher you to the bathroom.

you smiled and agreed with her and went to shower. turning the water to borderline boiling so you could release all your thoughts.

you put on some of aerums spare clothes and stepped out of the bathroom and walked to the main room. she had the movie 'home alone' waiting to be played on the tv. she knew it was your favorite christmas movie.

aerum saw you step out and turned her head back over the couch to face you with a big smile on her face, beckoning you to go and sit next to her. you could see a plethora os sugary and salty snacks sitting on the little coffee table in the middle of the room. she really knew how to cheer you up.

you guys ended up watching both home alone movies and ate almost all of the snacks. you guys also fell asleep next to each other on the couch. which was typical for the two of you when you ahd movie nights.

you were the first one to wake up the next morning. rubbing your eyes and aerums foot being the first thing you see was not so pleasant. the sun was shining through the window and you could hear the bustling city of seoul outside. what time was it?

you sat up from the couch while gently taking aerums leg off of your lap. you bent down to grab your phone to see that the time was..2 PM?!?!? seungmin must be worried sick!

you turned to the side and looked at aerum sleeping so peacefully. a little drool coming out the side of her mouth.

"aerum! hey! hey! wake up! it's 2'oclock!" you violently shook her shoulders.

she hummed and swatted your hands away from her body. telling you to shut up.

"as much as i would love to stop doing this i still love you and you have work today. so...get. up." at this point she had opened her eyes and you were staring straight into them.

"oh my god! i have work!" she kicked the blanket off her feet and scrambled to get up off the couch. running to her bathroom to go shower and get ready.

"hey wait! i was gonna go in there!" you chased after her but to no avail. she had already got in and locked the door.

"i know you have boyfriend problems right now but im already late for work! which one is worse y/n?" you could hear her starting to turn on the shower.

"fine, you win." you lightly kicked her bathroom door in anger.

you headed to the kitchen and opened the fridge, looking for ingredients to make breakfast for the two of you. there was nothing inside the fridge except some eggs, bread, butter, and milk. how did aerum and jeongin even survive in this house? at yours and seungmin's apartment, the food inside the fridge and pantry is always stocked. you guys go grocery shopping together too, just to make running errands a little more fun. sometimes he would ride the cart trying to run away from you or sneak in some extra snacks that you guys certainly didn't need to spend so much money on. but thats what made it fun. those little quirks are why you loved seungmin.

as you were reminiscing on those little memories, you heard a door to the apartment open. looking towards it, you saw jeongin walk in. since you started tearing up thinking about yours and seungmins relationship, you quickly wiped them when jeongin came a little closer to you.

"y/n? oh my god! seungmin is so worried about you! you should go to him. like now." he looked genuinely concerned.

"y-yea i should haha," you looked towards the eggs cooking on the stove. "just make sure you keep on eye this food though. me and aerum woke up late so while she showered i figured i could make me and her some food. but i'm leaving now. also you guys should really go grocery shopping." you laughed at him while packing up your things.

he frowned at you and opened the fridge "hey it's not that b-maybe it is..."

aerum walked out of the bathroom wrapped up in a towel and looked at you wide eyed. she heard you talking to yourself so she decided to come out.

"damn babe" jeongin turned towards aerum and looked at her while raising his eyebrows.

"jeongin! what are you doing here! you weren't gonna be back until like...2...oh." she looked at the clock and now realized it was 3. "oh my god i'm gonna get fired!!"

"chill out aerum, i'm sure one day won't do anything" you chuckled at her over exaggeration.

"okay y/n listen," she went up to you and put her hands on your shoulders, staring you dead in the eyes. "you back in your apartment and be very clear to seungmin that you're sad and man and whatnot. be confident and don't cry." she pursed her lip at you.

"okay! got it. now go finish getting ready so you can leave before jeongin makes you stay!" you winked at her and left her apartment.

you were in front of your apartment door, giving yourself a pep talk about why you shouldn't be scared to go in there and confront seungmin. communication is key right?

you opened the door and were met with an empty house, no sign of seungmin anywhere. maybe he was sleeping? they didn't have any schedules today if you recalled correctly.

you walked towards your guys' shared bedroom and opened the door to be met with a sad sight. it was seungmin, curled up in the bed, holding onto your pillow. he seemed to be asleep and you didn't want to wake up him up. you were still mad at him, but the sight made your heart clench.

you went to your dresser and set your bag down. then you went to the bathroom to do your skincare routine since you hadn't gotten the chance to do so at aerums place. seems as though that woke seungmin up because next thing you know he's walking up to bathroom door that you forgot to close. you saw him behind you in the mirror.

"y/n?" he came closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. "i-i thought something happened to you when you left, i got really worried y'know..."

"well, i'm fine see? no need to worry." you unwrapped his arms from around your waist and stepped away from him. you appreciated the gesture but he's acting so normal, as if nothing happened between you two.

"oh...okay." he got the memo that you wanted to be left alone, so he left the bathroom. this time closing the door.

you were conflicted. you were mad at seungmin and he really hurt you. plus, the holidays were coming up and you didn't want to be in a sour mood for it. but at the same time, you could see he felt bad. him just initiating physical contact and being the first one to talk said a lot.

you see, both you and seungmin were both very prideful people. that means that when the two of you argued, instead of being normal and talking it out a few hours later. you guys stretched it on for 1-2 days before either of you came to apologize. communication was something your and seungmin's relationship was heavily lacking.

you decided that you would wait for seungmin to speak to you. and if he doesn't then well, you'll cross that bridge when you get there.

once you finished up in the bathroom, you made your way out to your bedroom and saw that seungmin was curled up on the bed with his phone.

"thought you had practice seungmin?" you crossed your arms and raised your brow.

"o-oh well you know i decided to skip today because i was so worried about you and i was waiting for you to come home." he made up an excuse.

"well im fine so, you should probably get going now." you patted his back and shooed him away.

you guessed that was his breaking point because then he turned around to face you with tears in his eyes and said

"y/n please...i'm sorry. i lied okay? i don't have any schedules or practice for the next whole week." he looked down in shame.

you already knew that so it wasn't that much of a shocker. but it really hurt coming from him.

"why would you lie to me seungmin?" tears were now starting to well up in your eyes. "i'm sorry if i rushed you into meeting my parents. it's just that we've been together for 2 years and you never got to see them except on calls so i thought it would be a nice trip for us...." you wiped your tears.

"no love trust me thats not the reason at all." he sat down next to you in the bed and took your face in his hands.

"so then why did you lie to me and call me clingy and annoying?" he winced when you mentioned what he called you. he really didn't mean to. he doesn't think that about you at all. it came out of nowhere.

"because y/n....i was scared to meet them. i thought that maybe they would think i wasn't good enough for you." he looked down in his lap.

"seungmin why on earth would you think that? my parents already love you and they've seen you on call. they practically adore you." you took his face in your hands now. "seungmin no one would ever think that about you. you're perfect in so many ways and you deserve me just as much as i deserve you, if not more."

"y/n how can you say that when i said all those things?" he was referring to when he called you clingy and annoying.

"because i know you didn't mean it baby. it did hurt a lot, but it's nothing you can't make up for." you smiled at him. "i know you've been a little stressed with all the end of year activities and stuff. but you're getting a break now! enjoy it."

"i just feel so guilty for lying to you and saying those things y/n, i truly am sorry. how can i make it up to you?" he looked at you wide eyed.

"cuddles and kisses. but we can do that after we pack since we're leaving in 2 days." you giggled.

seungmin pulled you by your waist into a hug and kissed the top of your head. "you know i love you a lot y/n, right?"

"yes i know that baby, i love you too" you smiled up at him. "now! lets get to packing!" you got up from the bed and started pulling clothes out of your drawers. seungmin groaned, not wanting to get up from the bed.

it was christmas eve and you and seungmin were at your parents house. they were thrilled to see him and loved him very much. not failing to make him feel very deserved.

you guys were all sitting in the living room and it was 11:30 pm. your parents decided they would go to sleep and give you two some alone time. you guy's both said goodnight and waited for them to leave until you started talking.

"so, having a good time so far?" you turned sideways to face seungmin.

"of course, the best time even." he smiled at you. "wanna watch home alone? i know it's your favorite and we didn't get to watch it back at home."

"yes! i'll go make some hot chocolate for us." you hopped off the couch and made your way to the kitchen to boil some milk.

it's been about five minutes and the milk was still boiling. seungmin came into the kitchen to keep you some company. he walked over to where you were by the stove and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind.

"could this thing be any slower?" he whispered right into your ear.

"ugh, i know right. i don't even care anymore," you turned off the stove. "we can have cold chocolate i guess." you started pouring the milk into yours and seungmins cups.

"anything is good when i'm with you." he kissed the side of your neck and swayed you side to side.

you giggled and turned around towards him and said "awww look at you being all flirty" you teased.

he shrugged his shoulders. "it's the christmas spirit i guess."

you then looked at the digital clock behind seungmin and it read 11:59.

"oh seungmin look!" you point behind him at the clock. "it's almost christmas! in five....four....three....t-"

he pulled your face towards him and brought you in for a kiss. he rested his hands on your hips and then pulled away. you looked up at him with wide eyes.

"man, i wish it was christmas everyday if you're gonna act like this"

he chuckled. "merry christmas y/n." he pulled you into his chest and rested his chin on your head.

"merry christmas seungmin."

[ahgasegotarmy116]

OMG I HAVE ANOTHER DRABBLE REQ 😭😭✋🏻.

Can you do a drabble in which jti!jk lifts oc's baby bump

To giver her some relief?😭

(Love the teaser cantt waitttttt)

Haha this is so cute 🥰

Sure I think I can do that 🤭

(Are you talking about the Jimin teaser? I'm sad because it doesn't look like many people are interested in it but I'm glad you're excited about it 🥺💜)

~~~~~~

"Jungkook" I call out for him and I hear footsteps rushing upstairs moments later.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? Is it the baby?" he asks, concern clearly written all over his face and I can't help but giggle at the sight.

"Everything is fine I just can't get up" I relay, embarrassed that it's come to the point where I need his help for something as simple as this but he lets out a huge sigh of relief and helps me up with no hesitation.

"You scared me for a second there" he says and places a kiss on my forehead once I'm steady on my feet. "Sorry, I just didn't know how far away you were and you left your phone in here so I couldn't call you" I say, motioning over to where his phone is lying on his side of the bed.

"That's okay, I'm just glad I was here to help this time" he says, chuckling at the memory of the time I told him it took me almost five minutes of wiggling around to finally get myself out of bed one morning.

He wasn't around since he had to go into the office that day but he made sure that there weren't opportunities for something like that to happen again.

"Why did you have to put such a big baby in me?" I huff, walking over to the bathroom to go pee for what feels like the twelfth time today.

"They're not that big, the doctor says that they're growing at a healthy rate. It's our first baby so your body is still trying to figure out how to cope with it all" he says, leaning against the door frame and making sure that I'll be okay to get up on my own.

"Yeah I know but it sucks feeling this helpless. Plus I feel like I'm about to topple over half the time when they start moving around" I say, the hormones making me a bit more irritable today.

Well you are thirty five weeks at this point so they're running out of room in there" he says, smiling at he watches me struggle to wash my hands with my big belly in the way.

It's not that he likes seeing how difficult it is for me to perform simple tasks like this, he just finds it endearing and loves to help me more than anything.

"Very funny" I grumble once I catch his smile in the mirror and walk past him and back into the bedroom but I don't get too far before he's holding onto me like he always does.

I swear it's some sort of primal instinct or something because for some reason he always feels the need to keep his hands on me at all times.

"Can I try something really quick?" he asks, both his hands snaking around my waist or lack there of because of our ginormous spawn. "Like what?" I ask, sighing in contentment when he places a kiss on my neck, laying my head back on his shoulder and relishing the feeling of it.

"It might feel a little weird for a second but tell me if it hurts right away" he warns and now I'm scared. "What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, trying to turn around and face him but he holds me in place before I can.

"Just trust me" he mumbles against my skin and after thinking about it for another second or two I nod my head and wait for whatever it is he has planned.

He runs his hands all along my stomach and then rests them right underneath it and when I think he's about to go lower he wraps his arms under it and lifts it up, granting me instant relief and I couldn't control the moan I let out even if I wanted to.

"That good huh?" he chuckles, placing a kiss on my temple and lifting it up a little higher making me melt into him. "You have no idea" I sigh, not remembering what it felt like not having a baby in me until now.

"I've gotta let go soon though" he warns and although I know he would do this for me all day if he could all good things must come to an end.

"One more minute?" I ask and he chuckles and adjusts his hold so he can keep it going for a little bit longer and even when a minute is up he just stays there, holding me as long as he can...

~~~~~

Hope that was fluffy enough for ya 🥰

I miss this couple sm but I've kinda come to a writer's block for the main storyline but dw I haven't forgotten about them 💜

[sillyyuserr]

Chapter 117 analysis (WE’RE SO BACK) obviously spoilers for chapter 117 and chapter 114

i cooked with this one trust

Everyones looking for them yadayadayada terukane

Yk im pretty sure this is meant to be lore heavy but LOOK AT THEM

I don’t know how to word this correctly but since chapter 115/116 between akane and teru there seems to have been something that happened in which they stopped being freaky?? 😭 like ykwim hold on

in chapter 114 this happened

completely ruined almost everything they had, but in the span of a few days, shit still going on, they havent had their deserved break yet like they got on chapter 96-97 and somehow in the midst of all this teru’s forgiven(?) him and just moved on?? Really not sure but based on what we know ab the red house the next chapter may answer some of our questions

Also, this is so little i didn’t see it the first time reading but teru goes to the drink machine thing to get one and mixes like 4 of the sodas,

takes one sip decides its shit and switches with akane’s already half drunken out of tea. Indirect kiss guys wait

Also this is JUST like the date they all went on when aoi was gone. Again, aoi is gone here too 😭 my girl getting left out of everything is acc crazy

She comes in later tho and finally gets caught up for the first time in forever MAN aidairo must hate her😭

But also

We find out mitsuba and kou are going there TOO so for the first time i think ever we have the whole gang in one spot 🤥 alot of firsts this chapter smh

ALSO an honorable mention to this i saved best for last

Sir stay away from my children

ok but fr i have no fucking clue what to say ab this cus this is either ‘teehee im right ur wrong!!~~♡’ type shit which he does alot, or genuinely like what we all think it is, which considering outside context may, in fact make it make sense trust let me explain

teru says shit like this ALL THE TIME its kind of his ACTUAL personality aside from his fake shit, like the way he is only around akane and sometimes kou (at least what we’re shown) so you’d think he’s used to this, but his initial reaction is more of a ‘um. what.’

ALSO— backround MATTERS, the backround in this one, is pure black, which is only shown during stuff LIKE THIS (important stuff) example:

Black background either means its dark, or its something important, something meant to be remembered, or something like that (probably)

and that panel had a BLACK BACKROUND

Why is this important you may be asking, it has a black backround— so it must be, right? If this was a silly little ‘teehee you can’t do this im better than youuu!!!~~♡’ then it probably wouldnt even have a half panel it’d be another one of the mini panels, but it not only had a whole panel for just this, a black background ;blocking LITERALLY EVERYTHING OUT ASIDE FROM THIS AND WHAT HE’S SAID, but also, pay attention the contents of what he said.

(a different translation, this one is easier to read)

‘you are not in any position to oppose me, are you, aoi? ♡’ could mean, A LOT OF THINGS so i’ll put them in a bulletin here because any of them make for an interesting path we may be taking on ‘this’ reality😭😓

Number 1: he could be impliying, and or reminding akane, that he’s still engaged to aoi, and that if akane still thinks they shouldnt change this reality, he should reconsider, CONSIDERING he is engaged to aoi, as aforementioned. (Most likely this one)

Number 2: the power dynamic, yes akane is a school mystery with the ability to control time itself but also, teru is an exorcist, a skilled one at that— and could probably easily overpower akane in a 1v1 (lowk hyped to see this happen pls let them fight) teru may be poking fun, or reminding akane, that teru is in fact powerful, more than he seems to keep fresh on his mind — them having SO MUCH to do

Number 3: maybe instead he just felt like teasing akane and i wasted time+space for nothing and was looking way too into it (this is supposed to be the terukane option😪)

Never once has he used this before??? Obviously you cant talk in symbols but the heart kind of implies the user of this symbol is talking in a playful/slightly flirtatious tone, hence, the reaction:

Okay okay point is i think teru is still madly in love with him

WAAAHHHH just look at him pooks who else does he do this with smhh 😓 NO ONE

which i think may be PARTIALLY true but also not entirely because mayb im just a tweaker

Me when i when i ehen you whrn you when

This may make no sense at all, or alot of sense man idk its 3:12am i go back to school in like 2 weeks i am not ready for sophomore year gn

terukane will be real one day trust, also i have a twitter i post on sometimes @/silly_evvvie <3