#also i missed u!!!!!!!!!! hi i hope you're ok!!!

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne on the topic of femjay... do u think she'd like giving gifts? I feel like she's the type to shower u in gifts and act like it's nbd she didn't even think about it when she got it for u (she is lying)

ok anon I'm pretty sure this isn't what you meant buuut it's kinda related? anyway i was inspired so please enjoy awkward arkham knight femjay who doesn't know how to interact with her old best friend/girlfriend when she returns from the dead so she starts leaving gifts instead. i ❤️ my weirdo wife

ak!female!jason todd x fem!reader.

****

Someone has been leaving you presents.

Normally, you'd be freaked out. Probably, you should be freaked out anyway. How someone knows your exact dress size and what chocolate you like and your favorite flowers and your birthstone... well, it would scare anyone.

But. But the thing is. Every gift and every placement of the gift feels very familiar. It feels like the habit of an old love. Because she used to do the same. Pretty rocks or flowers found on patrol. A t-shirt for the band you liked. A kiss.

It feels like training, like muscle memory: here is how to break in without breaking anything. Here is how to leave a scene undisturbed. Lessons that a friend shared with you.

A friend you loved. A friend you mourned.

The dresses are beautiful and certainly not cheap. But they have a familiarity to their design. They're extravagant, fairytale dresses that you dreamt of wearing when you were young. Dresses you have no reason to wear now.

They aren't revealing or risqué either, and that comforts you too, even though it probably shouldn't. Bruce would be upset at your lack of self-preservation.

This is you living in the past. This is hoping for the impossible.

The jewelry is also beautiful and nothing you could wear to work or to a grocery trip. It's all necklaces and bracelets heavy with diamonds or emeralds or sapphires. But there's a single ruby ring you've received, and it's plainer than everything else. You wear that regularly, even though that definitely encourages your admiring stalker.

The gift-giving is random but they never go more than two weeks without a visit. And there's no note, no demand, nothing. It's like you have an invisible pet raven who likes bringing you trinkets that cost more than your rent.

After the seventh gift, you plan a trap. You want to face this admirer, show that you're not afraid. Well, you're a little afraid. Mostly, it's fear at the fact that you haven't called the police or Batman, even though you and Batman haven't been simpatico for a long time.

No, something stops you. The hand that leaves your gifts is a hand you know. You're certain of it.

You set up a camera behind your shuttered closet, then leave for the day.

You return to the camera gone and a beautiful gold carved statue of a dove. And a note.

Not yet.

Well, fine. You can wait. You're mad because that camera wasn't cheap, but you can wait.

Weeks pass. Gifts arrive. You make a batch of cookies as a thank you on one occasion. Three cookies are missing when you come home. You smile.

Then the night comes.

You don't know how you know it's the night you'll meet them. You just have a feeling. You've written them notes, certain they've been received. No notes have arrived for you besides the one from all those weeks ago.

You put on one of the dresses, a delicate, frilly blue creation that shows your shoulders and neck. You finish it with the sapphire necklace, one of the first gifts you received.

She slips in through your window and freezes when she sees you, even though you know she timed it so you'd be home when she came.

"Hi," you say.

She doesn't speak. She approaches you slowly, carefully. She's very tall, very muscular. Her face is covered with an intricate helmet and she wears similar armor on her body. A new hero in Gotham? Or a villain?

"Do I know you?" you ask.

She shakes her head. You study her for a moment. Glowing eyes stare back. You can't tell if she's lying. It seems like she means it: you don't know her.

"But you know me?"

Your admirer hesitates. Then she nods.

You close the distance until you're a foot apart. Her breathing remains steady but her fingers are restless.

"I like the gifts," you say. "Though I'm confused why you're giving them to me."

Her fingers still. She says nothing.

"A friend used to give me gifts too," you say quietly.

You're both startled. Why did you say that? You don't know.

"You don't want to hurt me," you say.

She shakes her head fiercely.

Suddenly, you want her to touch you. You lift your head and expose your neck. You can tell she's tracking the movement. It sends a thrill down your spine. Maybe something's wrong with both of you.

"Do you like your necklace on me?" you ask.

Touch it. Touch me. Prove you aren't a ghost.

You hear her swallow and inhale shakily. She reaches for you and lightly touches the gold chain around your neck with one gloved finger. You close your eyes. A name falls from your lips. God, you miss her.

The window creaks. You open your eyes. She is gone.

[softshuji]

*I make my choices, pay for them and try to scope the area* At least its clear for now. -Keisuke

.....

[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

[yeahxsurexokay13]

ideal weekend, lando norris

summary: while fans stress about the fact that, following their breakup, the actress won't be there to witness the driver's first ever f1 win, y/n gets asked about her ideal weekend off in an interview and accidentally manifests it [actress!reader]

warnings: i think only very bad editing (i tried) and me bringing up yet another footballer i feel affection for for literally no reason

fc: madelyn cline

started this as something completely different from what it ended up being but i think i like it. i'd love it if you let me know what you think tho (((:

y/n.y/l

📍miami

Liked by rudeth and 1.059.326 others

y/n.y/l yet another victim of a @/maxverstappen1 win. had so much fun but i think i'll just stick to acting 🙃🙃🫠 thank you @/redbullracing for having me!!! <333

view all 2.071 comments

username at a red bull event? what happened to once a mclaren girl always a mclaren girl????

username this event was basically work for her ?? you ppl need to stop taking everything so personally omg

username professional SUPER FAST driver, part time actress ❤️ by author

username you're in miami the same week of the miami gp. coincidence? i think not 😌😌

username GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRL

redbullracing Glad you had fun Y/n! Maybe we should start considering you for a guest appearance in our garage 😉

mclaren Thanks for the offer, Red Bull! But we've already got dibs on her 😉

username UM I HOPE THIS ISN'T A JOKE ??

username don't play with me like this admin!!

mclaren Don't worry. We won't hold this against you 🧡

y/n.y/l ily guys 🧡🧡🧡

username Ok cool now go finish season 4

username Why are u in Miami shouldn’t u be filming obx 4 😪

y/n.y/l side quest

username not the Y/n x F1 content I was hoping for but at this point I'll take what I can get

maxverstappen1 Next time I'll give you a head start. Enjoyed having you with us, Y/n 🫶

y/n.y/l there will definitely not be a next time but thanks tho!!!👍🏼 always a pleasure seeing you ❤️

username pretty 🩷

username Why is Max literally this🧍🏼‍♂️❤️ by author

landonorris Um what's this?

y/n.y/l 😶 not what it looks like

username seeing you two banter like this makes my heart ache 💔

username i'm never moving on from y/nlando sigh

username OBX S4 WHEN QUEEN

29 April 2024

mclaren added to their story

y/n.y/l

Liked by maxfewtrell and 1.890.345 others

y/n.y/l me and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER lando norris

view all 3.830 comments

username JUST WHEN I THOUGHT TODAY COULDN'T GET ANY BETTER OMFG

username formula 1 race winner lando norris has a nice ring to it 😉 ❤️ by author

username What a race, and what a win for Lando!!!

username IM LOSING IT YALL I JUST CHECKED OUT OF CURIOSITY AND BRIGHTON ALSO WON TODAY Y/N MANIFESTED HER IDEAL SUNDAY

username minus the relaxing part lol i know for a fact bestie was stressing in that garage

carlossainz55 It's great to see you back at a race! Missed having you around! ❤️

y/n.y/l thank you carlitos ❤️ wish i could've got to see you up there with lando

charles_leclerc ouch ? 🫤

y/n.y/l noooo, i didn't mean you!!! x

maxverstappen1 ouch?

y/n.y/l i did mean you. sorry /:

username are we back in 2022 and i didn't realise?????? not complaining at all tho

mclaren You and FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris look amazing! 🧡 ❤️ by author

username admin definitely ships

username children of divorce rise !!!!!!! ❤️ by author

username u think u're so funny liking this @.y/n.y/n but we're actually hurting we want our mum back!!!

username seeing you celebrate with lando was everything 🥹🥹🥹

username when i tell you i sCREAMED !!!!!!

username Everything in the world has been healed due to this post

oscarpiastri Awesome that you could come watch. Missed you ❤️

y/n.y/l missed you more pastry boy ❤️❤️

username we were robbed from this friendship !!!😪

username can't believe how emotional I am seeing you two together at his big win

francisca.cgomes ❤️❤️❤️ ❤️ by author

username just realised i am not as over y/nlando as i thought i was. in fact i am not over y/nlando at all.

username well seeing you with FORMULA 1 RACE WINNER Lando Norris just hit me right in the feels💔

landonorris Thanks for being there to share the moment with us ❤️ ❤️ by author

landonorris Also I think after this you might now have to come to every race ever

y/n.y/l clearing my schedule as we speak 🫡

username i am so ready to be delusional

05 May 2024

[hemmingsleclerc]

Scandal!┃CL16-MV1

I just want to say I love w all my heart charlotte so I'm not trying to hate on her, she looks very friendly but I just used her for her pics with charles

Also I had this idea on kylie and timmy's ''relationship rules rumours'' she put on him, poor timmy😭😭

instagram

f1_gossip

Liked by 183,573 others

f1_gossip According to reports, there is drama in the paddock! It all started when rumors came out of testimonies close to the couple where Aurora (Charles' new girlfriend) has imposed ''rules'' in her relationship with the driver!

"First, Aurora wanted him to cut ties with all of his exes, especially with the female driver, with whom he is still very close", Let's remember that Leclerc and Y/LN dated for almost 3 and a half years but they separated and they remained on friendly terms, before this they had been friends since childhood and the model ''did not like that'', they tell us.

comments

username girl what the fuck??

username stop, pls you're literally a ''model'' bc your mommy knew people and got u a job, on the other hand, Y/N has trained her entire life for that sport and she is super talented and has achieved all that by herself, stop embarrassing yourself.

username IF SHE MAKES SURE WE NO LONGER HAVE MOMENTS BETWEEN CHARLES AND Y/N, SHE WON'T LIVE TO TELL ABOUT IT FRRRR

ynln

Liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 1,845,295 others

ynln Made some great memories in Miami, had dinner w friends, and podium celebration this weekend, see u on Imola <3

lewishamilton fun night!

username I miss charles' comments on her posts 😭

maxverstappen1 🤘!!!

landonorris why wasn't I invited?

ynln bc I hate u

landonorris lol wth? I literally apologized 5 times for laughing at your pic,pls :(

redbullracing 👏👏

charles_leclerc

Liked by scuderiaferrari, aurora.official, and 1,642,795 others

charles_leclerc A little bit of blue and leo 😘👑Miami, thank you

aurora.official SO PROUD OF YOU BABY!!!😍😍

username girl okey we got it, now stop.pls

username PLS- THE WAY HE CROPPED HER FROM THE PHOTOS 🤣🤣🤣

scuderiaferrari blue suits you 🩵

username you look so good on blue cha 😭💗

cha_yn

Liked by 843,537 others

cha_yn I miss my parents, pls they were so in love 😭😭💔

username the way charlie looked at her

username my man was so deeply in love....

username she used to shine more when she was with him :(

twitter

comments

username Ok max having a crush on yn wasn't on my bingo card this year

username ok but what a great and hot couple they would both be

username I SEE IT 👀

rebullracing

Liked by ynln, maxverstappen1, and 739,539 others

redbullracing P1 and P2!!! What an amazing race for our team, very proud of max and yn!

ynln ❤️‍🩹

maxverstappen yes baby!

username did anyone saw charles' face when yn and max celebrated together??? no?? okey

f1_gossip

Liked by 429,683 others

f1_gossip Apparently after the great victory of both Redbulls, both went out to celebrate at a bar and sources claim that both were "very comfortable around each other", what do we think of this?

username nooo, I was still hoping charles and yn came back :(

username I'm here for their reputation era

username Idk if I want to be yn or max

aurora.official

Liked by charles_leclerc, herbestfriend and 284,626 others

aurora.official My baby got P3!! I'm so proud of him❤️❤️

username girl,do you at least know something about the sport?

aurora.official duh

username :/

maxverstappen1 has posted a story!

caption: yn send me this pic earlier today and thought I needed to show u, do we look alike?

charles_leclerc has posted a story!

music: I bet you think about me-Taylor Swift

twitter

f1_gossip

Liked by 947,594 others

f1_gossip What the hell happened between these two?? In the first practice of the weekend both drivers fought! According to some fans who came today, Charles approached Max furiously while he was yelling at him and Max wasn't far behind! What could have happened between these two?

username STOP WHAT IF IT'S FOR YN!!?!??!?!

username WHAT IS HAPPENING

username what the fuck 😭😭😭

Part2

[bsdawgz]

desperate sex with dazai please! you both had a long day at work and just wanted to indulge in each other. Both moaning messes as you cling onto him as he holds you. You don’t have to do it if you’re not comfortable!

JUST ONE MORE KISS ... armed detective agency: osamu dazai

a/n: anon, i LOVE THIS IDEA!!! you're also so sweet for being considerate of how i might feel. i hope u enjoy + that i did ok!!!

genre: nasty in a cutesy and domestic way

content: f!reader. MDNI! oral sex (f!receiving), pet names (angel, my sweet girl), the sex gets prety rough. he spits in your mouth once. some body worship (f!receiving). established relationship <3 cutesy at the end =)

Pulling away from what was supposed to be a chaste greeting kiss proves more difficult than Dazai would have ever imagined. He finds himself leaving your lips swollen, his own sweetened by the saccharine taste of your mouth melting on his tongue. It's not that you're complaining, though. His warmth is more than welcome, especially after a day as long as this one. You linger where he left you, if only just to bask in the heat of his body for a moment longer. A moment before you return to the mundane – take out the trash, prepare dinner, hang the laundry out to dry. Such menial tasks must be done whether you like it or not, no matter how exhausting work has been today. Truly, you ought to start on them now. Surely, Dazai also has had a tiring day and has chores to get to at home as well. And yet...

"Just one more kiss," he hums absently, as if reading your mind. He's always been good at knowing exactly what to say and when to say it. He's also always been an exceptional liar. When he leans in to kiss you, it's clear that just one won't be enough tonight. Not that he was trying to convince you otherwise, anyway. Then, in a heated whisper that's pressed to the base of your neck, "You know how greedy I am."

You shiver as his lips caress you; so soft, so loving, his mouth so inviting as it closes in on yours. His hand meets your waist, the other stroking the side of your neck, rearranging the tendrils of hair that frame your face. "Is it wrong of me to want more than just this?" he muses, tracing the plump of your lips with his thumb, watching in awe as you part your mouth instinctively to take in his fingers. "I missed my sweet girl at work today."

Leaning in for another kiss, you seal your lips against his, letting him guide you backward until you feel your body press against the brick wall of your cozy apartment. You can feel Dazai's teasing smile through his kiss as he hikes your skirt up, grabbing the plush of your upper thigh and trailing his fingers along your sensitive skin. You writhe and squirm, seeking the warmth of his hand, the sweetness of his touch, and those delicate fingers that you want to feel inside you. "Dazai, please."

He relents – of course, anything for his sweet angel. You feel him push your panties to the side, tracing your folds with his fingers. "God, you're wet," he murmurs, and you can hear the sheer satisfaction in ragged tone of his voice and feel it in the way it makes him grip your waist tighter. Still, you blush profusely, flustered by the fact he's pointed it out so plainly. "My sweet, needy girl," he whispers, stroking the side of your cheek lovingly. "Let's take good care of each other tonight~"

The sight of Dazai getting on his knees for you is always a precious one; and for Dazai, seeing you from this angle is one of this favorites. Though, to be fair, he finds the reverse just as arousing. You make quick work of the buttons of your shirt as Dazai unzips your skirt, slowly peeling your panties down your hips. "That's my needy little angel," he teases, "Wanting me to please her already..."

You hold your breath, gazing down at him with your lips parted as he lovingly places kisses up your thigh. Then, you gasp aloud, feeling the tip of his tongue prod inside you. You reach for his hand immediately, seeking the comfort and warmth of his skin, squeezing his palm tight as you feel the cold wetness of his tongue encircle your clit. He moans hungrily against your heat, lapping at your arousal. His name sounds so perfect in your mouth, he thinks, and as the syllables spill out of you, he can't help but glance up to admire the shape your lips form when you say his name. You'd sound much sweeter with his fingers inside you, he muses as he eases his index into your aching hole, smirking at the way you pulse and the way you stammer out his name once more. "Say it just like that," he coos.

You need him more than ever, "Dazai, Dazai" relentless on your lips as you desperately grind against his hand. "Kiss me," you plead. Tonight, your boyfriend isn't so much of a sadist as to deny your requests; tonight, he'll treat you well – just as promised.

Of course, you'll treat him just as well.

"Take it out," you moan as into his shoulder, unbuttoning his vest and dress shirt with haste, leaving them a mess on the floor to deal with later. "Please. Let me touch you, too."

He nods fervently, undoing his belt with a clatter, then he lowers his slacks just enough for you to reach clumsily into his boxers, where you find him pulsing with need, the tip leaking with precum. Then, he sighs with pleasure, seething with desire as you wrap your fingers around the shaft, throbbing in your hand as you stroke him.

This time, it's him who says, "please," his voice raspy in your ear as he leans in once more, locking lips with you and capturing your moans in his mouth as he curls his fingers deep inside you. Thrusting his pelvis forward to meet each of your strokes, he guides your fingers up and down his shaft with his other hand as he tries to get off on the feeling of being fucked by your fist. “Please,” he pants, breath strained as his hips stutter, as his knees begin to give. “Let me fuck you…”

You nod, and he’s frantically shuffling through his messenger bag for a condom, then tossing you down on your mattress. It’s feels like not even a minute more until he’s shoving himself inside you, groaning as he buries himself between your slick folds. You take him in – all of him, all at once, crying out his name when he starts to snap his hips into you. He’s greedy, so greedy, each thrust faster and harder than the one before. And you want it; you want more, more;

“More.”

You hook your legs around his narrow waist, clawing at his back, scratching at his spine and urging him to fuck you deeper. Dazai's panting into your shoulder, brown bangs falling beautifully into his eyes as he ruts into you like an animal desperate for relief – because for you he is, lips parted as he gasps, as his hand slithers around your neck, fingers squeezing just tight enough to deprive you of enough oxygen that you feel yourself grow dizzy. You kiss him hotly, just as fervently, biting his lips and drinking his moans into your open mouth, clinging to him as his fingers leave your neck. As they slip between your thighs, gathering the wetness between your legs where you're aching for him, where you're so wet that you're dripping onto the sheets beneath your sweaty bodies. You shut your eyes.

Fuck work tomorrow –

This is all you need. Dazai, Dazai, Dazai.

The laundry chime goes off, but you can hardly hear it with the buzz in your ears – "Close."

"Me too."

– Take me to heaven and back.

It's you who comes first, convulsing in Dazai's arms; and you don't feel him slow at all, not even a little bit, just feel his spit fill your mouth, saliva trickling down your chin as he grabs you tighter, as he forces your legs over his shoulders and fucks you even harder until you can barely form thoughts, let alone words –

and you split open, body searing with pain, yet you can't help but grind your hips against his fingers as you teeter on the verge of a second orgasm. You sob out yes, yes, yes, thighs trembling as you gasp for him, as you plead for him to bring you there once more. You spasm, then you feel him spill into you with one final thrust, grabbing you and pulling you tight against his body lovingly, wrapping his arms around your shoulders because god, does he need you closer than ever right now.

Then, he rolls onto his side. Buries his face into your shoulder. Nuzzles his nose into your neck. His lips brush along the shell of your ear. "One more kiss. You know how greedy I am," he whispers, interlocking his fingers with yours. "Then we can order take-out."

© BSDAWGZ Please don't steal or reblog! That's plagiarism! If you enjoyed the fic, likes and reblogs are always appreciated! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que!

[aangarchy]

Ok but the fact aang is a child. And thinks u have to forgive someone who killed ur family. I bet Monk gyatso and the others were rolling in their graves devastated they can't ever tell Aang the real deal that he would've been told when he got older.

Monk gyatso probably: NO AANG. ITS JUST ABT LETTING GO

Ah, yet another shining example of someone who missed the entire point of the show.

If you think monk Gyatso would be "rolling in his grave" (which he doesn't even have, and i'm pretty sure air nomads don't do graves anyway) to see Aang grant Ozai mercy, you have completely misunderstood what air nomad culture represents. Air is the element of freedom. Yes, it's about letting go, not having any attachments. But not having attachments also means letting go of your feelings of hatred, letting go of grudges, and not letting your feelings consume you. Aang understands that remaining angry and bitter will not bring his people back. All he can do, is try his best to preserve and protect his culture, and part of that culture is an oath of pacifism. Aang choosing to spare Ozai does not mean he forgives him, or his predecessors for what they have done to the world. Instead, he lets go of his anger and hatred towards them so he himself can be free. Maybe eventually Aang will forgive them, but i personally don't believe it's then and there.

If anything, monk Gyatso would be proud of the decision Aang made in the end. It's the ultimate middle finger to the fire nation to show that they failed at destroying the air nation. Aang is not only a symbol of hope for the other remaining nations to end the war, but also for his own culture to prevail, and keep existing in whatever limited form Aang can preserve.

I think what you're referring to is TSR, with "thinks u have to forgive someone who killed ur family", when he tried to teach Katara about letting go and forgiving. Aang wasn't doing that bc he's against Katara getting justice. If anything, he agreed Katara needed to face Yon Rah for her own closure. But he's not trying to teach Katara forgiveness so he can save Yon Rah, he's doing it so he can save Katara. He knew that if Katara went through with this she'd get consumed by hate and anger for the rest of her life. Zuko even admitted in the end that Aang was right about what Katara needed, and it wasn't killing her mother's killer. And Katara did end up forgiving someone at the end of the episode, namely Zuko. Katara still learned and accepted Aang's lesson by the end, when at first she insisted forgiveness was impossible.

Also I think you're forgetting that Air nomads swear a non violence oath. Gyatso swore this oath as well. So again, idk where you're getting this idea that Gyatso would be "rolling in his grave" to see Aang stick to this oath.

[kiwinatorwaffles]

two aroaces try to figure out dates 28 injured 3 dead

(image description in alt text and under cut)

Image description:

The first page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Edgeworth crosses his arms with an uncertain expression, saying, "miss maya, i hope you don't mind me requesting your help on such a short notice. Panel 2: Edgeworth lifts his hand to his chin, saying "i want to show wright appreciation by inviting him to a date, but i have no idea what to do. i was wondering if you had any advice or ideas from the perspective of someone who also doesn't experience romantic attraction. Panel 3: Maya grins and says, "oh yea, totes! i can help! lemme quickly just--" Panel 4: Maya pulls out her phone, scrolling through her Ao3 page titled "mayoinnaise." She says uncertainly, "um…. date ideas right… erm…. ok gimme a sec…."

The second page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Maya and Edgeworth have a back-and-forth conversation, starting with Maya's speech bubble. "how about going to the countryside and horseback riding and having a picnic?" "horseback…? the countryside is hours away…" "okay um… just a picnic then?" "i'm allergic to pollen." "sounds like you're just allergic to dates. "apologies…" Panel 2: Maya says, "wait i have a great idea!! you should get drinks and watch something on tv until he gets mega drunk and starts crying at you because you're so beautiful!!" Below Maya's speech bubble is a little bubble titled "Maya vision:" where Phoenix is blushing with his tie around his head, saying "miles i love you" with a bunch of "u's" stretching out. Panel 3: Edgeworth, unamused, says "…you know maybe i should've gone to larry". Panel 4: Offended, Maya replies, "hey!" in all caps and bolded italic text. "do you think LARRY would have better advice? he'd be all like," Her speech bubble cuts off here, switching to one that mimics Larry, indicated by a small Larry head beside the speech bubble and text saying "Larry voice". It reads, "edgey boy you should take him to your place and fuck him raw!" Panel 5: Edgeworth, looking sick, replies, "…good point. now excuse me while i go throw up."

The last page of a three-paged comic. Panel 1: Maya scrolling desperately with a speech bubble consisting entirely of ellipses. Text on the corner of the panel reads, "(on her 7th ao3 page)". Panel 2: Maya suddenly exclaims "dinner!" in italicized all-caps. "nothing bad ever happens with dinner!" Panel 3: Edgeworth closes his eyes and presses a finger against his temple, saying, "last time we had a dinner 'date,' wright ate his salad with a butter knife…" Dejected, Maya replies, "right. that time. post cancelled no dinner i guess". Panel 4: Maya looks back at her phone with one hand up in defeat and says, "man, i'm sorry… pretty much all i write is homoeroticism and angst! maybe we should ask larry…" Edgeworth's speech bubble reassures her, "i appreciate the help regardless…" Panel 5: A context box in the top-left of the panel reads, "meanwhile, phoenix:" Phoenix sits on the couch outside the office with a confused expression, thinking "wtf are they talking about". There is text in the bottom left corner that reads "(they kicked him out of the office)".

End ID.

[emotionalsupport-ljh]

Breaking and Entering

You don't want Jihoon to worry.

Fluff (a miniscule amount of angst) - woozi x fem!reader

A hell of a lot of words for a sick fic :D Described as "princess treatment" by my friends 😌

AO3 link

Word Count: 3.1k

////////////////////////////////////

Before you even open your eyes, you feel a scratch in your throat that burns like hell. You reach for the water on your nightstand and take large gulps trying to soothe the pain. As your eyes open, they droop heavily and take a moment to adjust to the early morning sunlight that makes its way past your curtains. A chill suddenly attacks the uncovered parts of your body. You duck back under your comforter only to have an oppressive heat come in waves that cause sweat to cling to your forehead. On top of all that, you can’t breathe out of your left nostril. You’re terribly sick.

As you lament in your miserable state, a notification brightens your phone and you have to shut your eyes. You blink them trying to get used to the light, but all it does is give you a headache. You brave through the pain to turn your brightness down and check the notification. It’s a text from your boyfriend, Jihoon.

Jiji: good morning babe~ 😘

You: Good morning!

Jiji: what are ur plans for today? work?

You: No

You pause for a moment before continuing your response. You wonder if it’s a good idea to tell him that you aren’t feeling well today. On one hand, he might want to know that kind of stuff so that he can take care of you. On the other hand, it could cause some unnecessary stress in his already stressful life. Also, with his busy schedule, he probably wouldn’t be able to do much. You decide ultimately that this illness would probably be over quickly, and you don’t want to make Jihoon worry about nothing a little cough medicine and tea would fix.

You: I'm going to take the day off to relax and be lazy lol 😏

Jiji: that sounds nice

i wish i could do the same 😮‍💨

You: Busy schedule today?

Jiji: yup 🙃 but im excited for our date later this week

You: Me too!

Jiji: i have to go to work

text me later

You: Will do! I love you 🩷

Jiji: love u too~🖤

Putting your phone down and taking the chance to move from your bed to at least retrieve some relief in the form of medicine or warm tea, you feel your muscles ache in a way that makes you never want to move again. For now, you stare at the ceiling with the resolve to get over this silly little cold. You fall asleep soon after and stay asleep for many, many hours.

When you finally awaken again, the chill in your bones still hasn't subsided, no matter how many layers of sheet and blanket cover you. You have to force your eyes to open against the deeper sunlight now pouring through the cracks in your curtains. You power through the discomfort to get them to adjust to the brightness. Again, you reach a hand out for your phone and see that it is afternoon and that you have some missed texts from your boyfriend.

Jiji: hey~

wuts up

Jiji: taking an afternoon nap huh

text me when u see this

The messages were all sent about 45 minutes ago. You feel a little bad about lying, but it only strengthens your resolve to get better and put the whole lie behind you. You text back like normal, hoping that he has the time to read and respond even for just a few minutes.

You: Sorry! I fell asleep watching anime

It doesn’t take too long for a reply to pop-up. You had been dating Jihoon for months now, but you still got butterflies every time he texted you. Even now, aching all over and dripping from your face, he makes you feel a warmth you swore would make you even healthier than you were before.

Jiji: oh rub it in my face 🙄 lol

dont get too far without me

You: I would never!! 😫

How’s it been today? You're not too stressed, right?

Jiji: eh

im coping lol

nothing im not used to

You: Don’t push yourself too hard ok? 🥺

You're doing such a great job!!!!!!

Jiji: thx lol

i gotta go. love u~ 🖤

You: I love you too 🩷

You decide to try to come up with the ultimate healing game plan for the rest of the day. You plot out your meals and activities to maximize the time you can spend getting better. Or at least you try to as you come to realize that sleeping an extra 4 and a half hours without getting out of bed means that you’ve yet to relieve yourself. This kickstarts your game plan as you rush to the bathroom.

You power through the aches in your body to finally brush your teeth and put your hair in a manageable bun for the day. You put on your sweats and some socks to keep warm and make your way to the kitchen where you heat up some soup and make a mug of herbal tea. You take medicine and take it easy all day. The change in scenery from your bedroom to the living room not only motivates your mind to change, but also it motivates your body to move. You swear you already feel better.

Unfortunately, the next two days look the same, and you do not, in fact, feel any better. Even with minimal movement throughout the days, you still manage to leave a mess of dirty dishes, clothes, and tissues strewn about the apartment. You are miserable and finally starting to come to terms with it. The delusion of your ability to heal quickly and on your own was finally starting to dissipate. You thought seeing a doctor was a waste of time, but you start to see the necessity of an appointment the more time you spend with a scratch in your throat and a headache hammering your skull.

The worst part, however, is not the pain, nor is it the constant sweating or the need to breathe through your mouth. No, the worst part is that today is Jihoon’s one day off; you are supposed to be ready to go on a date.

It's a little late in the morning when you wake up. You thrash in your bed frustrated that you are still sick and very tired. When you check your phone, there are no new messages. It isn't unusual for Jihoon to sleep in on his days off. You dread having to tell him the truth that you had been sick all week and couldn’t go out tonight. You could anticipate his response: a string of crying emojis and then a laugh where he says he’s just kidding and he’s fine as long as you get better. He wouldn’t really be okay with it, but he would say he is. He would be really disappointed; he isn’t very good at showing his true emotions, but you know he feels them so deeply. You don’t want to cause him any undue stress or heartbreak. At this point, it unfortunately is inevitable.

You grab your phone and hover over Jihoon’s contact, trying to muster the courage to send your good-morning-text and your confession followed by a long apology and promises to make it all up to him one day. You don’t expect your phone to ring, brandishing a very familiar sweet smiling selfie with the name “Jiji” underneath. You are startled then you take a deep breath, clear your throat, and answer.

“Good morning, my baby,” a sleep-rasped voice calls out from the other side.

“Good morning,” you try to answer in a normal voice, doing your best to hide your congestion.

“You sound different. What’s up?” Jihoon caught on immediately.

You whine a little over the phone, only prolonging the inevitable. There’s only silence from the other side. “I’m sick,” you say, then blurt out, “I’ve been sick for the past three days. I really, really tried to get better, honestly. I’m so sorry, Jiji. I can’t go out tonight.”

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, maybe from the nerves of finally coming clean, maybe from the extra exertion on your sick body. The five seconds it takes for Jihoon to respond feel like five hours. All he says is, “Oh. Okay.” After that, he hangs up the phone, leaving you stunned and with a horrible pit in your stomach.

You’re in shock. The kind of shock people feel after breaking a limb or recovering from a disaster. It pushes every other feeling out of your body. You do your morning routine in a fugue state. When you sit back in your bed, it all hits you at once. Tears stream down your face almost unconsciously, and you lay down with your face in your pillow. Eventually, you fall asleep again, too tired from the illness to continue to cry or feel anything.

Jihoon makes up his mind quickly. After abruptly hanging up the phone, he immediately gets up and goes through his own routine faster than ever, even taking 30 minutes off of his normal workout just to have more time for his own plan. After coming home, he does something a little out of character. He goes to the kitchen to cook something that isn’t chicken breast and white rice.

This surprises his roommates. Soonyoung tries to help him with the big pot of what was so far just stock and vegetables. He gets distracted easily, and it takes him a long time to cut up an onion. Jeonghan takes a picture of Jihoon and sends it in the group chat asking if this is normal behavior for Woozis. Seungkwan tries to taste it before the dish is ready and whines when his hand is met with a smack from a wooden spoon.

“This isn’t for any of you. Leave it alone,” Jihoon says in a stern voice.

“Wait, what? Then who is it for?” Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him.

“Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s sick.”

The mood in the apartment changes. Now, Jeonghan is texting more furiously in the group chat about how Jihoon cares so much about his poor, sick girlfriend. Seungkwan now insists on tasting the dish the whole way through the cooking process to make sure it’s suitable for such refined tastes as his and yours. Soonyoung calls his mom and asks what the best thing is to cure illnesses. It becomes a whole big thing that has Jihoon a little bit annoyed but also grateful his friends care about you almost as much as he cares about you.

Jihoon’s morning and the better part of his afternoon off of work are then filled with surprise visits from Mingyu, Jun, and Seokmin who bring an array of dishes that could feed you for a month and Minghao who brings a special tea blend that he uses when he's feeling sick. Vernon sends a playlist of chill music for you to listen to while you recover, and Wonwoo writes a list of movies he recommends you watch to rest. Chan makes a special delivery of his grandma's famous kimchi, which has the rest of the boys groaning that they don't get any this time. Joshua sends the best essential oil wax melts so you can indulge in some aromatherapy. Finally, Seungcheol makes sure that Jihoon tells you that he can send anything in the world to your house using his card whether it be medicine or a treat from your favorite bakery or even a new designer pajama set to make sure you are at maximum comfort levels.

As he makes his way over to your apartment, Jihoon feels silly carrying a bunch of bags filled with various gifts from everyone on top of the soup he made that seems to pale in comparison. He curses Jeonghan under his breath for telling everyone his plan to bring you supplies, effectively making him the delivery boy because he is the only person who has the passcode to your apartment. He tries to call you on his way over, now adding his phone to the pile he was juggling. It rings a few times and then goes to voicemail. He tries again and meets the same outcome. He assumes that you’re resting; being sick for multiple days sounds exhausting which is why he is so willing to bring over everything he (and the others) could possibly think of to make you feel better.

Jihoon reaches your front door and knocks loud enough that you would be able to hear it from your room, but soft enough that you wouldn’t wake up if you were resting. He waits a beat before just typing the code and letting himself inside. He makes his way to the kitchen and sets down the various bags on the countertops. Only once his arms are empty does he realize the state of the apartment. He slowly takes in the dirty dishes and various random stuff left on the floor. The trashcan is full, and tea bags litter the countertops. There are tissue boxes everywhere, each one full of used tissues.

He walks slowly to your room and, opening the door, he almost couldn’t make out your sleeping shape on the bed. You’re curled up into a ball under many layers of blankets on one side, and on the other was a pile of clothing. There’s more clothing on the floor. Jihoon goes back to the kitchen and takes a deep breath. He meticulously puts all the food everyone prepared into the fridge, rolls up his sleeves, and decides to start there. He makes a list in his head of all the things he could realistically do in the few hours you would be asleep.

The next moment, Jihoon is elbow deep in soapy water scrubbing dishes and wiping countertops. He finds all the cleaning instruments and proceeds to sweep and vacuum. He fills a trash bag with tissues, tissue boxes, and food containers. He gently tiptoes around your room, gathering up the clothes from the floor, which he assumes are dirty, and putting them in the wash. The clothes on the bed, which he checks are clean, are now folded and put in a hamper for later sorting. He even has time to reheat his soup and make a pretty plating of it paired with some rice and a cup of some of Minghao’s herbal tea.

You awaken when you hear dishes clanking in the kitchen. Someone is in your home. You freeze until the noise stops and begin to get up from your bed. With your legs swung over the side of the bed, ready to stand and possibly defend yourself, the door opens slowly and in walks Jihoon with a tray of dishes.

He looks surprised, then flashes a big smile, then says, “Good, you’re awake. It’s time to eat.”

All you can do is stare at him in disbelief as he sets a tray of soup and rice and tea on your lap. He sits cross-legged in the empty space beside you and scrolls through his phone as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

“W…what’s all this?” you stutter out, utterly confused.

“Lunch,” Jihoon answers nonchalantly.

Looking at him beside you, you realize that there is indeed empty space on your bed for him to sit where there was once a pile of clothes. Tears appear behind your eyes when you look around at the spotless floor of your bedroom. You look at your boyfriend as one tear falls.

“Did you…”

“Yeah, it was a real mess in here.” He turns to look at you and uses his thumb to wipe the one tear from your cheek. “Start eating. I bet you haven’t eaten all day. How are you supposed to get better if you don’t eat?”

He was right. You take a spoonful of broth and bring it to your lips. It tastes wonderful. Alternating between tea and soup and rice, you feel fuller, and the heat from the meal eases your throat just a little more. Jihoon looks at you and sees how happy you look to be having a meal that wasn’t microwaved from a package. You are already almost done with the meal after only a few minutes.

“See, you were hungry, huh?” He teasingly shakes his head.

You lightly push your boyfriend's arm. You make a face, suddenly feeling awkward to be around him. “I thought you were mad at me.��

“What? Why? Because you lied to me for days and didn’t let me take care of you? Or because you canceled our date on the day of because you assumed I cared that we went out somewhere?” he starts sarcastically, “I actually hadn’t thought about it all day.”

“I’m serious, Jiji!” you try to whine but end in a cough. He’s laughing at you as you get a little frustrated.

“I’m seriously not mad. I wish you would’ve told me, but being mad won’t fix anything.” His smile is soft, and he’s looking at you with love in his eyes.

“I’m really sorry. I just didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t know it would last this long. Honestly, I don’t know what I have, and you probably shouldn't be sitting so close to me right now.” You weakly try to push Jihoon away, but he sits like a rock, not budging at all.

“I’m fine,” he chuckles, “The plague couldn’t even keep me away from you.” He leans to kiss your forehead.

All your muscles relax as the last few bites on your plate disappear. Jihoon takes the empty tray in one hand and uses the other to guide you to your feet with him. He wordlessly walks you both out of the room. You see that not only is the entire apartment clean, but there are small gifts left out on the coffee table.

“What is all this?” you ask your boyfriend as take a seat on the couch, waiting for him to put the empty plates and bowls from the tray in the sink.

He takes a seat next to you and rubs the back of his neck with one hand and avoids eye contact when he answers, “The guys heard you weren’t feeling great, so, of course, they had to help out, too.” He goes through and shows you the wax melts, medicine, and self-care products. He also tells you about your new stock of homemade meals from the best cooks in the group. You get really excited about the kimchi from Chan’s grandma. He sends you Vernon’s playlist and Wonwoo’s recommendations. He even shows you the text Seungcheol sent him about using his card for whatever you might need.

Everything is perfect for the rest of the evening that was supposed to be a fancy, romantic date night. It turns out that watching movies and listening to music while snuggling and talking is the best medicine for illness and the most romantic date you have ever been on.

[samrsgyi]

Premium Rody Lamoree Smut Headcannons

Note: So these are more advanced smut Headcannons for our French Puppy Rody and part 2 because in the last one y'all were going wild in the comments ( send help- ) so here ya go.

He's into Rimming ( Receiving) and Cunnulingus ( Giving ). It's just the way u Lick, Suck, and# Kiss his butthole and make-out with it. It's just the way you lick it makes his legs give out. He will jerk off too so that he could come quick and if he does he'll moan loudly that you'll have to calm him down after and tell him it's ok. For Cunnilingus, when eating you out he likes to go for the clit since it's the sensitive part of the vagina , and likes to lick and swirl his tongue around it just to hear you moan his name. Rody will even rub ur sweet bud to watch you fall apart.

When he gets home from work he loves to show you how much he missed you by pinning you against the wall and kiss your neck or even leave hickeys and love bites that trail down your shoulder or kiss your chest leaving small bites. He's into fingering as well and once you say ur gonna cum he's gonna say , " That's it just fall apart for me," and ur fluids would spray all over his fingers ruining the sheets leaving you a puddle

When he thrusts up into he'll say something like , " Your taking me so well," and if he's about to come, to not wake up the neighbor's he'll kiss you and moan in ur mouth. He loves to call you names like " Lovebug," " Pretty Baby," "Sweet Cheeks," or " Mon Amour." Mon Amour is his most favorite to call u because it shows how he can use his language ( French ) through showing his love and affection for u. If you guys are laying in bed and it's the orange hour Rody will compliment you by saying, " You're beautiful," and push your hair back behind your hair and giggle softly. He would get on top of you and make-out with you while slipping his tongue inside your mouth with soft groans following

He loves seeing you in his clothes, so please if he catches you in his clothing just know you are gonna get punched with softness. If at any point u guys are laying in bed and it's an orange hour after you guys had sex and ur just both staring at each other Rody will randomly say, " You're Beautiful, Mon Amour," and swipe a piece of hair out of ur face and put it behind ur ear and giggle softly. At random times at home He would also get on top of you and cup ur cheeks and kiss you then it would form a saliva string.

When you guys have a make-out session Rody likes to pull u closer to him run his fingers through ur hair gripping it softly as you slide ur tongue in his mouth making him moan

He admires how you wear Luminous makeup on that makes you look Ethereal and Have a Radiant Glow. He loves ur skin, and how smooth it is. He would kiss your skin and loves the feel of how soft it is. At home he'll ask you if he can touch your breast which you'll say yes to and he's gonna say, " You're so soft and warm." He loves the clothes that you wear cuz they're beautiful and slightly revealing which makes him a red tomato, but it doesn't bother him that much

I hope you guys enjoyed these advanced smut Headcannons of Rody so that you guys can stop your feral-ness. The reason I chose a female s/o is because when i was reading about his sexuality and how he was bisexual it said that, " He leans more on the women side," so yeah 👍.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

since you're taking requests for joey from friends, could you possibly write an angsty one-shot (with a happy ending)? i love your writing sm and i love joey so im sure it'll be perfect <3

The One With the Pie || Joey Tribbiani x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

summary: after your crush on joey ends before it can begin, you start to move on. but maybe, just maybe, the story of you and joey isn’t over just yet

word count: 6.6k

warnings: suggestive material

a/n: thank you for this request love!! i hope you enjoy this and it’s angsty enough for u 💋 there’re two ocs in here (james + jessica) so if you don’t recognize them from the show that’s why!! also somehow i made this way longer than i intended to so sorry about that but enjoy!! <3💌🩰

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “Joey, stop!” 

     You jumped towards Joey, trying to retrieve your stolen piece of pie from him, which he was currently holding above his head.

     “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

     “That pie had my name on it,” you huffed, making another jump for it. 

     “I don’t remember seeing a name,” he acted innocent, crumpling up a piece of paper that most definitely had your name on it.

     “Oh yeah? And what is that?” You made a grab for it and he threw the paper behind him, catching your wrist. 

     Your heartbeat picked up because of the jumping and certainly not because of the sudden physical contact with Joey. Or, that’s what you were telling yourself. 

     “That is just my…grocery list.” Joey gestured at the ball of paper. 

     “You don’t buy your groceries,” you countered, “so nice try.”

    “Curse you, Chandler.” 

     You shook his hand off your wrist and gripped his forearm for leverage as you tried to twist to grab the pie again. 

     “So you admit, my name was on that pie?” 

     He smiled. “Nope. Still no. And unlabeled leftovers are fair game.”

     “Not when they’re from my fridge,” Monica walked over to you and Joey, pinching him and grabbing the pie. She handed it back to you.

     “Ow, Mon,” he rubbed at his arm, “I was going to give it back. I was just borrowing it.”

     “Yeah, and I had it under control.” you realized your hand was still around Joey’s arm and you quickly put a hand on your hip.

     Monica watched the movement and then rolled her eyes at both of you.

     “And you’d better make sure you didn’t get crumbs all over my floor with that,” she called as she walked back towards her bedroom.

     You’d been staying with Monica and Rachel while you looked for a place. You appreciated her sharing her apartment with you but you couldn’t say you didn’t miss being able to put your feet on the furniture and drink milk out of the carton.

     As Monica disappeared from view, Rachel walked out of her room in a bathrobe. 

     “Hey (Y/n), hey Joey,” she said on her way to the fridge, “Wait a minute, what are you doing here, Joe?” 

     “Stopped by before my audition to eat my leftover pie,” he said. You elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow, ok (Y/n)’s pie. Happy?” He looked at you.

     “Very,” you said, satisfied.

     “Well, good luck at your audition,” Rachel said, looking in the refrigerator. 

     “Thanks,” Joey said, sitting down at the table, before standing up again quickly. “Oh right, my audition! I’d better get going. Last time I was late to one of these the casting director made me pay.”

     “What’d they do?” You asked.

     “Made me give her 10 bucks for wasting her time. Like I had 10 bucks with me,” Joey said as he walked towards the door. 

     “Break a leg! You’re going to kill it,” you called after him. 

     “Thanks (Y/n),” He kissed you on the cheek before leaving and you watched him go, trailing a hand over your cheek where Joey’s lips had been. 

     “You’re so obvious,” Rachel said pouring milk in her cereal.  

     “I don’t know what you mean,” you told her, as if she didn’t know that you’d been crushing on him for the past few weeks. Rachel just raised an eyebrow at you.

     You hadn’t known what had changed. You’d been friends with Joey for nearly a year. But sometime recently you had started to see him differently and you wanted more and more to be something more than just friends. 

      “You say that every time,” Monica said, obviously overhearing and walking back into the room. “And so I’ll tell you what I tell you every time. Tell him.” 

     You had been avoiding that part for a while. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to make a move—you knew you’d have to at some time if you wanted your relationship to progress any further—but it was more that you didn’t want to ruin the friendship you had with Joey. You valued it so much and you couldn’t bear to make things weird between you if he didn’t feel the same way. And you doubted he did. He’d never exactly expressed interest in you. 

     “What’s the worst that could happen?” Monica continued.

     Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at her. 

     “Ok I get it, a lot,” she said, “But what’s love without a little risk.”

     You preferred not to risk anything, thank you. But she was right. You knew it. You ran a hand through your hair as you thought. “I don’t know, Mon.”

     “Come on sweetie,” Rachel added, “Joey would be lucky to have you. You’re sweet and funny and kind. Heck, if he doesn’t take you I will.” She smiled at you. 

     You laughed and gave in. “You really think I should tell him?

     “Yes,” they said at the same time and you laughed.

     “But only when you’re ready,” Rachel added, putting a hand on your arm. 

     Were you ready? You supposed you never really would be. 

     You steeled yourself, “Alright, I’ll talk to him.”

    You walked towards the door. 

    “Honey?” Rachel called, “Love the enthusiasm but Joey’s not home.”

     You remembered the audition. “Right,” you walked back towards the kitchen, “tomorrow.”

     You couldn’t say you were sorry about the delay. It would at least give you more time to think about what to say. You sat down at the table with Rachel and Monica and began to peel a banana, thinking about what tomorrow might bring.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You knocked on the door of Joey’s apartment. You weren’t exactly ready, but it was now or never, you thought, as you waited for Joey to answer the door.

     You were greeted by Chandler instead. You let out a breath. 

     “Oh, I thought you were going to be Joey,” you told him.

     “No need to look so disappointed,” Chandler said, “Good evening to you too.” 

     “I’m not disappointed,” you told him, “I just—is Joey home?” You asked. 

     “You know, if I had a dollar every time a girl said that to me when opening this door…” 

     You shook your head, smiling, “I just have something I need to ask him.”

     “He’s out right now but he should be back soon. Can I take a message?”

     “This is kinda something that needs to be said in person,” you said, playing with a strand of your hair.

     Chandler led you in to the apartment and you sat down on the couch. 

     “So how did Joey’s audition go?” You asked Chandler, trying to make small talk so you wouldn’t die of anticipation while you waited for Joey to get home.

     “Not great,” he admitted, “Something about apple juice and a wild parrot which I’m assuming means he didn’t get the part.”

     You laughed despite your nerves. You didn’t even want to know what Chandler meant by that.

     “I thought maybe he was at a callback,” you said, thinking aloud, “but never mind.”

     “No, Joey has a date,” Chandler said. “Some hot girl he met at the audition, so I guess it wasn’t a total waste.”

     You stopped listening. Hot girl? No. This couldn’t be happening. Joey was out right now with some beautiful woman and you were waiting in his apartment ready to confess your love for him. 

     “(Y/n), are you ok?” Chandler must have noticed your expression because he looked concerned.

     “I have to go,” you told him in a hurry before bouncing up and walking towards the door. It was only then when you heard footsteps approaching and the sound of Joey’s voice as he talked to someone—presumably his date. You ran the other way back towards Chandler.

     “You have to hide me,” you gripped his shirt in your hands. 

     Chandler looked absolutely baffled. You didn’t have time for this.

     “Now!” 

     “Um, my room,” Chandler said as he hurried you in there. 

     “If he asks just say you have a girl in here,” you called out to him in a whisper.

     “He’s not going to believe that!” Chandler whisper-yelled back to you before you started to shut the door quickly. 

     “You’ll think of something,” you said back. “Tell me when the coast is clear.”

     You left Chandler looking lost in the living room. Safely behind his door you relaxed but only a little. You would just wait until Joey went to the bathroom or something and then Chandler would sneak you out. No harm done, right? You would feel sad later. 

     You heard Joey enter the apartment and you could just make out his and Chandler’s voices.

      “So how was it?” Chandler asked him.

      “Amazing! Jessica’s great! She stopped to say hi to someone she knew down the hall but she’ll be here any second.”

      “Well that’s fantastic, Joe,” Chandler said. 

     “What’s fantastic?” You heard a female voice and your hearing sharpened.

     “You are,” you heard Joey tell her smoothly.

     “No you’re fantastic,” she said back.

      You were going to be sick. Every word they said was like a punch to the gut. And you didn’t mind admitting that you mocked Joey’s date behind the closed door like any self-respecting person would. 

      “Well, I’m glad you two had a good time,” Chandler said, “Now if you don’t mind, I’ll just be getting back to my room.”

      You heard Chandler’s footsteps grow closer to you. They were both silent for a moment and you strained to hear. You leaned forwards and knocked an alarm clock off the desk. It crashed to the floor and you might’ve been fine if it didn’t begin going off loudly. You cursed Chandler under your breath for buying an alarm clock that made rooster sounds. 

     “Chandler, do you have someone in there?” You heard Joey say. 

      “W-why would you think that?” 

     “Yeah you’re right,” he said, laughing it off, “Like you would have a girl in your room that I don’t know about.” 

      “Yep, that’s me,” Chandler said wryly, “alone forever.”

      Chandler opened the door just a crack and then stepped into his room. 

      “You better pretend to be my date next time we do this,” he whisper-yelled. 

     “You better have a normal alarm clock next time we do this!” You threw your arms up.

     “It makes me think of the farm!” he said, indignantly.

     “You’ve never lived on a farm!”

     “Whatever,” Chandler gave up, “You can go now, Joey’s in his room with Jessica.”

     You nodded and felt relieved as you made your way to the door. You only realized what this meant when you heard Joey and Jessica in the other room.

     And from the sound of it, they were certainly enjoying the second part of their date. 

     And with that the reality of the evening crashed down on you. You and Joey weren’t  going to happen. He was clearly interested in whomever this woman was and your plans for confessing your feelings were obviously ruined.

     You sat down on Chandler’s bed and put your head in your hands—and over your ears so you didn’t have to hear what was going on in Joey’s room.

     Chandler sat down next to you and placed an arm around you. 

     “I know,” is all he said as he rubbed your shoulders.

     “How do—” You started, sniffing. You hadn’t actually told Chandler why you were here to see Joey. He ignored it. 

     “His loss,” Chandler said and you managed a weak smile as you leaned your head against his shoulder. 

     This was so not how you imagined this evening going. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “…and then they did it for the rest of the night and Chandler and I watched a movie,” you told Monica, Rachel, and Phoebe as you took a sip of your coffee.

     All three of you were at Central Perk and you were filling them in on the events of the past night. 

     Which had been, all things considered, fairly miserable. You appreciated Chandler hanging out with you all night and at least the volume of the movie drowned out anything else…almost. But you still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Joey and the other girl.

     “I’m sorry honey,” Rachel said, “is there anything we can do to help?”

     “Get rid of Jessica?” You mumbled sarcastically.

     “Well—” Phoebe started, an inspired look in her eye.

     You interrupted her, “I’m kidding, Pheebs. But I appreciate the support.”

     You sighed. You were just going to have to get on with your life and pretend nothing had ever been different. Pretend you didn’t want Joey every time that you saw him and be happy for him and his new relationship. 

     “Well, there are plenty of other fish in the sea,” Phoebe said. 

     “And if I don’t want any other fish?” You said, looking down at your coffee mug.

     “You could always talk to Joey about it,” Monica said. “I mean, maybe if he knew how you felt—”

     “Ok, don’t look,” Rachel said, watching out the window. “But Joey’s coming inside.”

     Your stomach flipped. For all you told yourself about moving on and pretending, you weren’t sure if you were ready to see Joey yet. What if it was too painful or you were to obvious? You paused, contemplating how weird it was for you to be nervous to see Joey. You had been friends for so long and you weren’t used to it.

     No time to think about that now, you told yourself as you jumped out of your seat and turned around. You saw Joey walk through the door and you backed up helplessly.

     “Hey guys,” he said, seeing all of you. 

     “Hey Joey,” Phoebe said, “It’s great to see you but, uh, Monica and Rachel and I were just about to go to our…knitting class. Right?”

     What was she doing?

     “Right,” Monica said, elbowing Rachel.

     “Oh yes, and we’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon,” Rachel said, understanding on her face. 

     They all walked towards the door and you stared after them hopelessly. 

     “Talk to him,” Monica mouthed and you bit your lip. 

     “Knitting?” Joey asked.

     “Yeah, well you know how I like the smell of…yarn,” Phoebe fumbled, “We’ll see you guys later.”

     And with that, her and the other two girls were gone leaving you alone with Joey. Well, alone aside from the dozen or so other customers oblivious to your awkwardness as you tried to find words…any words.

     Joey sat down at one of the tables and you sat on the edge of the couch a few feet away.

     “That was weird,” Joey looked thoughtful, “Does yarn have a smell?”

     You shrugged and Joey kept talking.

     “Anyway, I’m starving, do you want anything?”

     “No, thank you, I just ate.”

     A lie. You hoped your rumbling stomach didn’t deceive you.

     Joey ordered and then returned to his table, “So (Y/n), what’s new with you?”

     “Um, nothing really,” you said, “You?”

     You regretted it immediately when you heard his answer.

     Joey ran a hand through his hair, smiling, “Well, I met this really great girl the other day and I’m actually waiting for her right now. We’re supposed to go bowling. I can’t wait for you to meet her.”

     “Oh, that’s awesome.” 

     Was your voice usually this high?

     “I’d love to meet her but, I have to go,” you checked your invisible watch, “now, actually. I’m meeting some friends.”

     Another lie. You had to get out of here before you were stuck meeting—

     “Jessica!”

     Joey hurried over to her and kissed her on the cheek. You bit the inside of your cheek and watched as Joey brought her over to you.

     “Jessica this is my friend (Y/n)…”

     Friend.

     “…and (Y/n), this is my girlfriend Jessica.”

    Girlfriend.

    You watched Joey smiling and looking expectantly between the two of you. You should be supportive of him. That’s what a good friend would do.

     So you inhaled and said, “Hi Jessica, it’s so nice to meet you.”

     “You too,” Jessica said, pushing her blonde locks behind her ear. “Joey and I really should be going but I’d love to get to know each other sometime.”

     “Definitely,” you said and Joey looked thrilled at the two of you talking.

     “See you later (Y/n),” Joey said and then more quietly, “wish me luck.”

     “Good luck,” you almost whispered as you watched Joey and his girlfriend walk away, his hand in hers, him leaning slightly down to hear something that she was saying into his ear.

     And you wanted to wish him luck, you really did. But as you watched Joey walk away with the Jessica, all you could think about was how desperately you wanted that to be you.

     You weren’t paying much attention to what you were doing as you picked up Joey’s forgotten drink order and scone. 

     You turned around to go sit down and crashed into something—or, someone it seemed—on your way there. The coffee went flying and you fell to the ground. 

     “Are you ok?” You heard a male voice say. 

     You looked up and saw a tall man staring down at you, coffee dripping down his front and an arm out to help you up. You took it and dusted yourself off.

      “I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going,” you hurried out.

     “My fault entirely,” he said. 

     “I’ll buy you a new shirt,” you said.

     “I didn’t like it anyway,” he waved it off. “You did me a favor honestly. Don’t tell Aunt Ruth.”

     You laughed despite yourself, and picked up the mug and scone from the floor.

     “I’m (Y/n),” you said, filling the silence.

     “James,” he shot back. 

     “Scone?” You offered him the pastry awkwardly.

     “Sorry, he said, “but my parents always said never to take floor-scones from strangers. Even very beautiful strangers.”

     You found yourself blushing and your eyes widened. What was happening?

     “But I’d be happy to take you out for real food sometime. If that’s something you would be interested in?”

     You played with the fabric of your shirt. You immediately thought of Joey bit stopped yourself.

     Why should you be thinking of Joey right now? He clearly wasn’t interested in you, so why waste time on something that clearly wasn’t going to happen. Maybe you should take this man up on his offer and go on a date with him. He was funny and nice and had called you beautiful. 

     “Ok, this is getting embarrassing,” he backed up, “Let me down easy, ok?”

     You laughed, “I would love to go out with you sometime.”

     “Not to sound super eager or anything,” he said, “but do you wanna do something now?” 

     “Your shirt?” You prompted.

     “Oh, I’m making it a style now,” he said. “I’m totally adding trendsetter to my resume.”

     “Alright then, let’s do something,” you said, feeling better than you had in the past couple days as James led you out of the door of Central Perk.

     Maybe this was just what you needed.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “Are you sure he’s coming?”

     “He’ll be here any second, I promise.”

     You answered Phoebe and took a deep breath as you sat at Central Perk with your friends, who were all eagerly waiting for your boyfriend to arrive so they could meet him. 

     Your boyfriend. You pondered the word. If someone has told you a week ago that you’d be seeing someone, you’d have laughed in their face. And no one probably would have, because your friends were just as surprised as you were. They all knew how you felt about Joey. 

     And until you met James you hadn’t thought it possible that you would get over Joey at all. Or at least not for a very long while. 

     But one date with James had turned into seven and you were actually happy. You had learned a lot about him and you had plenty in common. He was so easy to be around that it made you forget about Joey and Jessica and the relationship that would never be.

     Almost. You still felt bitter at the thought of them together, but you tried to push those feelings aside and focus on this relationship.          You reminded yourself that you should be over Joey.

     You saw a glimpse of a familiar flannel through the window of the coffee shop. 

     “Alright everyone be quiet, here he comes,” you said. 

     And you were over Joey, you told yourself, as you watched the amazing guy you were dating walk through the door and catch your eye, smiling at you. 

    You hoped, you added as you looked over at Joey finishing off a blueberry muffin. He shot you a thumbs up and you gave him a weak smile back. 

     “Hey (Y/n)!” James, your boyfriend of exactly three weeks, said. “Everyone.”

     A chorus of ‘hey’ and ‘it’s nice to meet you’ and ‘Well, now I know why (Y/n)’s dating you. You know, for the free firewood’ —that being Chandler—followed as you made the introductions. 

     You rolled your eyes at Chandler. James was an accountant, and not a lumberjack. He had talked about his love of numbers on multiple occasions.

     “It’s so great to finally see you,” Monica shook his hand, “(Y/n) talks about you all the time.”

     Did you? You supposed you did. You hadn’t let any of them meet James at first so your descriptions of your dates were all they had to go on. And if you exaggerated his perfection than it was just because you really liked him and wanted all your friends to like him. You shook off the thought that some of it might be to convince yourself.

     Because on paper James was perfect. And you really enjoyed spending time with him. But—

     You glanced over at Joey again. 

     No. He had his relationship and you had yours. It was better this way. Because he was still seeing Jessica and it sounded like they were hitting it off.

     And if some of your gushing about James was for Joey’s benefit than so be it.

     “All good things I hope,” James answered and you were brought back to the present. 

     Monica turned away and mouthed ‘he’s hot’ to you enthusiastically. You rolled your eyes at her. 

     “So, what do you do?” Ross asked James as the latter walked over and sat down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

     “I’m an accountant,” he said. 

     Chandler passed a five dollar bill to Ross, mumbling something about “being sure he was a lumberjack”. 

     Rachel elbowed Chandler and as he rubbed his arm she smiled warmly at James and said, “Well, any friend of (Y/n)’s is a friend of ours.”

     “Which hasn’t happened yet because all of (Y/n)’s friends are sitting on this couch!” Phoebe said, teasing. She wasn’t wrong.

     “Well, you all seem really great but (Y/n) and I have to run. We have a movie to get to.” James stood up and you moved with him.

     You said goodbye to everyone, taking James’s hand. On your way out you risked a glance at Joey. You couldn’t help it. He had been so quiet throughout your whole introduction. You didn’t know why, but you almost thought he was disappointed? Or maybe just bored? Probably wishing he was with Jessica right now. 

     Once you thought of it you wished you hadn’t because you felt awful all over again and you willed your cheeks not to heat. You sighed. Now, Joey was looking down, running a finger around the top of his empty coffee mug. He caught you looking at him and you tried to play it off by waving. Pretending you hadn’t just been staring at him. He gave you an almost too enthusiastic wave back and you just turned around and kept walking towards the door, away from Joey and towards your boyfriend who was waiting for you.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “I’m just saying, if pineapple doesn’t  belong on pizza then why is it on pizza?” Joey said, throwing down his cards on the table.

     “You got me there,”  Chandler said, rolling his eyes. “And I fold.”

     You stifled a laugh as you examined the cards in your hand. You, Joey, Chandler, and James were all seated around Joey and Chandler’s kitchen table playing a game of poker. 

     The whole thing had been James’s idea, and at first you weren’t sure that it was a good one. You’d been doing a lot of different activities that he had planned with your friends lately as he tried to get to know them  better. 

     You appreciated that he wanted to be friends with your friends and all of his efforts were actually adorable. You had already been with Phoebe to her grandma’s together, went with Ross to his museum, and last week you had gone shopping with   Monica and Rachel—and James somehow went home with an armful of fabric swatches, talking about undertones.

     But this was different. It was getting easier and easier to be around Joey as time passed and weeks went by and you were both in relationships, but things were still a bit awkward, on your part at least. 

     But it did seem like Joey was…distant lately as well. It was probably just the fact that he was spending a lot of time with his girlfriend and you scolded yourself for worrying about it. Right now you were just friends playing a game of poker. You looked over and James and found him trying to look at your cards. 

     “No peeking,” you told James as he looked over your shoulder, so not discreetly.

     “Maybe I just wanted to kiss you,” he covered, leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

     “Full house,” you whispered to him, flashing him your cards and he smiled down at you.

     Chandler reached his arms out to Joey and pursed his lips, “Show me your cards?”

     Everyone laughed and Joey aimed his cards away from Chandler.

     “Hey, is it my fault for wanting to kiss my girlfriend?” James acted innocent. “Since when is that cheating?”

     He put an arm around you and you kissed him on the cheek.

     “House rules,” Joey said.

     James shrugged, “He didn’t say we couldn’t do this.”

     As he grabbed your hand you heard Joey’s chair slide on the hard-wood floor. 

     “I’ll be right back guys, I’m going to go get us something to eat. Play this hand without me.”

     You watched him leave the room and Chandler called after him.

     “But you don’t have any money with you!”

     “I’ll go to Monica’s,” he called back.

     “You most certainly will not,” Monica said and you turned around to find her standing in the doorway of her apartment. “And your girlfriend’s waiting for you. Why in my apartment, I don’t know.”

     “Oh, right,” Joey said sheepishly, “Can I use your apartment? I told her I’d be over there. It’s important.”

     “Joey!” You heard Monica yell before Chandler got up and shut the door and their voices became muffled. 

     You tried not to think about what important thing Joey could mean. You pushed thoughts of him and Jessica away and reminded yourself that you didn’t care.

     “Well,” Chandler said, “I think I’m out too before I lose anymore money and then who’ll pay the rent?”

     “Yeah, I should get going. I promised my sister I’d help her clean out her basement,” James headed towards the door and Chandler raised an eyebrow at him.

    “Hey,” James defended, “If you’d seen my sister’s house you’d understand why it’s a two person job. Or, a team of movers’ job. Bye, (Y/n).”

     He kissed you quickly and then left the apartment, leaving you with Chandler. It felt eerily like a little over a month ago when you had gone there to ask Joey out.

     “So, you’ve been seeing James for a while now,” Chandler prompted.

     “Yep,” you said, “He’s really great.”

     Chandler stepped towards you hesitantly, “So you and Joe?”

     “What about me and Joe?” You kept your voice even, “He’s in a relationship and so am I. We’re both happy and that’s that.”

     “Well—” Chandler started, but was interrupted by Joey sighing as he entered his apartment. 

     “Glad that’s over with,” Joey said.

     “Did you let her down easy?” Chandler asked.

     “As easy as I could. And then she started crying and—this is why I just don’t call people back,” he sat down on the couch. “Breaking up with people in person is hard.”

     “What? You broke up with Jessica?” You could hardly believe it. “I thought you guys were so happy together.”

     Joey looked over at you, “Well, you know, we just didn’t have that much in common.”

     You were both silent for a moment. 

     “Hey,” Chandler announced, “This is awkward! So I’m just going to...”

     He ran out the door and you cursed him under your breath.

     “Weird,” Joey mumbled and you sat down opposite from Joey as you processed this new information.

     Joey wasn’t seeing anyone. You stopped yourself before you could go any further. No. You were in a good relationship and Joey had just got out of one. Now was not a good time. And just because he wasn’t dating Jessica didn’t mean he all of a sudden wanted to date you. And you were over him. Right?

     “So you and James are really serious now,” Joey said.

     “Yeah, I guess,” you responded. You hadn’t really thought of it like that, but you suppose technically you were. 

     “Well, I’m really happy for you,” he said, “He’s a lucky guy.”

     It doesn’t mean anything, you told yourself, he’s just being a good friend.

     “Well, I’m sorry about you and Jessica.”

     “Don’t be,” Joey stood up, “It wasn’t meant to be.”

     He took a step towards you.

     “Do you ever wonder if anything’s actually ‘meant to be’? Or is it just our decisions that lead us places?” You pondered.

     “I think if something is meant to happen than you’ll realize it and make the decisions that lead you there,” Joey said, taking another step closer to you. 

     “Really?” You asked, “You don’t think something could be staring you in the face and you don’t recognize the signs?”

     “I think in a way you always know,” Joey said, more sincere now. “Even if you don’t realize it until it’s too late.”

     You were saved from working out the meaning of that and this whole conversation by the phone ringing and Joey picking it up. His face got dark before he covered it up and smiled at you.

     “It’s James.”

     You walked over and took the phone from him. 

     “Hello?”

      His voice was muffled but he sounded intense when he said, “Hey, (Y/n), I need to talk to you. Are you free…now?”

     “Um, yeah, I can be at Central Perk in five minutes.”

     “Sounds good,” he said, “I’ll see you there. Love you.”

     You hesitated and he hung up. Joey looked to you, obviously curious about what that was all about.

     “He says he needs to talk to me and to meet him in a few minutes.”

     You headed towards the door and Joey handed you your coat. 

     “See you later,” you said and he shut the door behind you as you stepped out into the hall.

     What could James possibly want?

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “James is leaving,” you announced. 

     You hung your coat on the coat rack of Monica’s apartment. All of your friends were lounging around in the living room but they rushed over towards you at this declaration and you held out your arms.

     “No, I’m fine, really.” 

     In truth, you were too fine. More fine than you should be, after dating James for the better part of a month and a half. Which wasn’t a long time, but you had gotten to know him well and you really liked him.

     “Are you sure you’re ok?” Rachel asked, putting a hand on your amt. 

     “Yes,” you reiterated, “James was offered a new job in California and he is going to take it. It’s all very sudden, but I’m ok. And technically, he gave me the option. To either stay long distance or end it now. I’m…still thinking it over.”

     You knew you should be more affected. But you felt numb to the sudden departure of your boyfriend. You knew you should be upset, and you were sad at the loss of him in your life. But it was more that you were going to miss spending time with him as a friend rather than as a boyfriend. 

     You didn’t pretend not to know why that was. 

     Either way, you still had to decide if you wanted to stay with him or not. He had left the decision up to you, saying that he’d be fine with whatever decision you made, and had told you to take all the time you need. 

     You told him you’d call him tonight. You didn’t tell him why you were hesitating to answer him. Because you wanted to stay with him. But you couldn’t make yourself say it, because what if you were missing other opportunities. Your conversation with Joey earlier had made you think and you couldn’t help but ponder what if.

     Not that you had much confidence in that. Joey wasn’t even here right now, you realized.

     You were brought back to the present. “So what are you going to tell him?” Ross asked.

     “I don’t know yet,” you sighed, “I suppose I have no reason not to stay with him, even though we’ll be so far apart.”

     That was the sensible thing, right? Stay with the great guy that wanted to be with you even miles and miles apart. You needed to stop focusing on what probably couldn’t be and focus on what already was. 

     “If you’re sure,” Monica said. “We’ll support whatever decision you make.”

    “I’m sure he’ll send you lots of free wood from California,” Chandler said, and you chuckled.

     “Phoebe?” Rachel furrowed her brow, “Are you alright?”

      Phoebe stood over by the couch. She was biting her lip and looked like she was stopping herself from saying something.

     “Phoebe?” You asked, “What is it?”

     “Oh, it’s just—” she started, “No, I can’t tell you! It wouldn’t be right!”

     “Tell me,” you said, walking over to her. 

     She backed up, “No!”

     “Phoebe!”

     “I can’t!”

     “Phoebe!”

      “Joey’s in love with you! Ok? There I said it,” She sat down on the couch and looked like she had been wanting to say that for a long time. 

     You felt like you had been turned upside down. 

     “He didn’t say anything because of you and James and, you know, but he loves you, (Y/n). And I know I shouldn’t be telling you and I promised him I wouldn’t but—” she stood up again, “I know you love him and before you make this decision you just need to know that.”

     You couldn’t even begin to comprehend this. Joey loved you? That couldn’t be true. Phoebe must be mistaken and—

     Joey walked into the apartment. You saw your friends look around at each other.

     “You love me?” You mumbled barely able to believe it. 

     Joey’s smiling face went pale and filled with horror as he backed up slowly.

     “Oops,” Phoebe mumbled and Joey glanced once at her before hurrying out the door and down the hall. 

     “Joey, wait!” You shut the door behind you and caught up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you.

     “Look (Y/n), I never meant to—” 

     “You love me?” You asked again. 

     “(Y/n), you have to believe me when I say—”

     You stepped so you looked Joey directly in the eye.

     “No, Joey,” you whispered, “I need to know, do you love me? 

     “I can’t love you, (Y/n),” his voice raised with every word, “I can’t love you. And I can’t love you so much that it hurts to pretend that I don’t….that I do…that I…” 

     He looked up, confused, “Oh, you get the point! And every time I see you with James I’m reminded of how I can’t have you.”

     Your conversation about signs and realizations came back to you. Your heart stopped beating. When you found words your voice came out shaky and breathless. “But…Jessica?” 

     “Jessica and I broke up,” he said, taking a step closer to you. “because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just realized that too late.”

     “And I shouldn’t be telling you this,” Joey continued, “I never planned on telling you any of this…”

     He looked up at you and you tried to discern the expression on his face. 

     “Just forget I said anything, ok?” Joey said looking pained, “I hope you and James are happy together, I really do. Just, forget it.” 

     He moved to walk past you and you started talking trust to stop him from leaving. 

     “James is an amazing guy,” you said, your words coming out slowly, “he’s smart and thoughtful and attractive—”

    “Is this supposed to be helping?” Joey asked, turning around. 

     “What I mean is, James is perfect,” you said, “but he’ll never be you.”

     Joey’s eyes snapped to yours and you continued, “I only started dating James because I was trying to get over you. James is moving away and he left the decision with me to end or keep our relationship.”

     You stepped closer to Joey. “So say the word. Tell me you love me. Tell me you love me and I’ll leave him and be yours.”

     Joey closed the distance between you, fire burning in his eyes. “I love you (Y/n). God, I love you so much.”

     And he kissed you. He kissed you like he had been waiting a thousand years. He backed you up against the wall and his hands went to your hair as you kissed him back. You threw your arms around his neck and took in the beauty of this moment.

     It was passionate and raw and everything you had been hoping for and more. 

     Joey pulled away from you, reaching to brush the hair back from your face.

     “Wow, (Y/n).”

     “Yeah,” you breathed. “I guess I have Phoebe to thank for this.”

     “You’re welcome!” You heard Phoebe’s muffled voice from the other side of the door.

     You smiled at Joey, rolling your eyes and walking over to open the apartment door.

     You turned the knob and all of your friends faces greeted you as they scrambled away from the door. 

     “Run!” Chandler yelled, “Scatter! She can’t catch all of us! It was Monica’s idea!”

     “Seriously Chandler?” Monica smacked him in the arm.

     You laughed. 

     “We’re just so happy for you two,” Rachel said. You tried to convey your gratitude to her—to all of them—for their friendship. 

     “I’m happy,” you said. You felt giddy in a way that you hadn’t in a long time—that you had never felt with James.

     “We knew you’d get together,” Phoebe nodded. “My psychic totally saw it coming.”

     “And we were only listening at the door for a little bit,” Ross added.

     Joey put his arm around you and you leaned in to him. You couldn’t even pretend to be offended, you were just glad to be here in Joey’s arms, surrounded by your friends. 

     “What do you say we go get a bite or something?” Joey asked you.

     You nodded as he walked out the door with you and down the hall once again. 

     “How about pie?” You teased, remembering your almost-stolen leftovers.

     “My treat,” Joey answered in agreement. “Have all the pie you want!”

     “Will it be mine this time?” You teased back.

     “All yours,” Joey said, stopping to look down at you softly. His eyes sparkled as he said, 

     “Just like me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ i hope you enjoyed this, i love writing for the friends characters so much!! you can find my other friends fics on my friends masterlist. as always feedback is appreciated and i hope you have a lovely week!! 🍓🪩

[mommahughes19-23]

Ooh oh oh me 🙋🏼‍♀️

Insta edit for Nico please where he and his girl spend the summer in Switzerland. Because first of all off season Nico —> need I say more? And second of all I love the mountains. Would be cool if you could include some pretty scenery pics

Some banter in the comments about Jack missing his bestie (Nico) and her being like ‘well too bad he’s mine now’ and whatever else you wanna add 🥰

bless Nico and your future babies anon I LOVE YOU! why do I feel like off season Nico is nothing but outdoor activities and cuddles omg. <3

OFF SEASON JEALOUSY - N.H

y/user : NJ 🛫 CH with views almost as beautiful as him ❤️‍🔥 (also im never letting him take any of my insta pics again see pic 3 for reference)

tagged : @nicohischier

nicohischier : you're my best view 🤩

↪ y/user : babe I love you but not this again

jackhughes: so @nicohischier you get a girl and you forget all about your best friend who would do anything for you 🤧😤😭

↪nicohischier : @jackhughes I plead the fifth?

↪jackhughes : @y/user I WANT MY MAN BACK!

↪y/user : @jackhughes im SORRY uhm YOUR man?????!!!!!!??? HES MINE FOREVER 🫷🏻🤡

_quinnhughes : you two disgust me 🤢

↪ y/user : quinnifer that is rude @_quinnhughes

lhughes_06 : COME WATCH ONE OF MY GAMES YOU BITCHES! 🏒

dawson1417 : @jackhughes wtf what about me bro🤬

↪ jackhughes : I got some bad news if u thought u were my number 1

ybsf : I MISS YOU Y/N PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COME BACK HOMEEEEE!

ybsf : also WHY TF wasn't I invited to at least the freaking picnic @nicohischier 🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬

↪ nicohischier : @ybsf uhm bc we are not dating....

curtislazar95 : @jackhughes petition to #bringhomeourcap ? 🤨

↪ jackhughes : @curtislazar95 say less buddy lsfg🫡

A.N : ok hi, I know I said my last post was my last of the night but then beautiful anon requested this with my Swiss string cheese so I deliver. IM SORRY it wasn't long ya girl has been up since 4am lol.

I hope I did your idea justice in someway, I might re-work it tomorrow if I have time as well.

Anywhossss that is all for now my little gorls

xoxoxoxo, M

TAGS : @skylershines

[solarissun]

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 2)

afab!reader x Mike Schmidt

pt 1

WC: 3k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, enemies to lover, afab reader, angst, mentions of alcohol, mentions of intoxication, slow burn, mentions of child abuse, no use of y/n, aged up character

A/N: I want to apologize for any confusion the first chapter might have caused! This fic is a Mike Schmidt fic. It's just a slow burn/somewhat(?) of a love triangle and I thought adding Clapton would be funny. (plus I’m in love with him…) Before you read, just as a warning, this chapter gets pretty deep. 

Enjoy!

tags: @h3llo-k1tt @caminterrupted @jhutchismyl0verb0y

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

It's been almost a month since you and Clapton's hookup. He's been texting you nonstop. Text after text floods in, and you ignore them all. You feel bad, but you’re too embarrassed to even face him. You sigh, flipping open to Clapton’s contact to read the new heap of texts.

U good?

Miss you. Hope that ur ok.

Wanna hang?

Helloooo?

Okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m thinking of u.

You groan, slamming your phone back down on the bedside table. You enjoyed the night you two had, and it felt great at the time. But now you just feel like shit. Now all you think about is Mike, and how disgusted he was with you. While you’re thinking about Mike, you realize you haven’t seen or heard him in weeks. He’s been out of his apartment way more than usual, and you’re sure he's avoiding you. To be honest, you don’t blame him. If he pulled that on you, you’d up and leave.

You lay back down on the couch, grabbing the remote and turning on a movie, desperate to think of anything else but Mike or Clapton. Suddenly, you hear frantic knocking on your door. You reach for the remote and pause the TV. You sit silently for a minute, wondering if you were hearing things. Not only is it 8 pm on a Saturday, but you also aren’t expecting any guests. Who could possibly be knocking on your door? As you're about to un-pause the TV, more knocks echo and bounce off the walls.

You slowly get up from the couch, and wearily walk over to the door. You shift to the balls of your feet, trying to peer through the peephole. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as all you see is the top of someone's head. You slowly wrap your hand along the cold metal of the knob, slowly turning it open. Your eyes widen as you see Abby on the other side.

Her face lights up, her eyes practically glowing. She squeals, bolting over to you and wrapping her arms around your waist.  “Abby!” You scream, pulling her into you.

“I missed you so much! Mike said you moved away to your castle to be a princess!” You scoff inwardly, Mike’s lie making you despise him even more. "Where is your castle, by the way?" You glance down at her, ready to make up some insane lie. Before you get the chance, you look to your left, seeing Mike skirt around the corner, bee-lining towards you. He’s panting, his face red. “Shit- I’m... Sorry. She’s so fast.” You plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face, ensuring Abby doesn’t notice the hostility between you.

Mike takes Abby’s hands, prying her off you. “Heyy! I want to play with her! Please! Please, Mike!” She whines, giving Mike her best puppy eyes. He looks up at you, a guilty look falling over his features. He shrugs at you, waiting for your response. “Okay, come in!” You say, focusing on the little girl in front of you instead of Mike. The two of them walk into your apartment, Mike clearly not wanting her to be alone with you. You give him a dirty look and he rolls his eyes. Luckily, Abby’s too focused on your decor to notice or even care.

She runs around your apartment, oohing and ahhing at every fuzzy pillow and every cute decoration lining your shelves. She opens your bedroom door, and you think she’s about to explode. She looks back at you, her eyes wide. “You can go in.” You say, giggling as she wastes no time to roll around in all the stuffed animals you still keep on your bed. You quickly follow behind her, flinging yourself in the pile. Mike leans against the door frame, smiling as he watches you both stand up and jump up and down the bed. Abby stops, her eyes catching on something on your bedside table. She jumps down, her feet landing on the plush carpet. She grabs a heart locket off your bedside table, holding it up to the light. “Woah! This is so pretty!”

You immediately freeze, your face almost lighting on fire. You quickly grab it out of her hands, stuffing it in a drawer. “Mhm, so pretty! Why don’t we get out of the bedroom?” You steer her out of the room, sliding around Mike. You loved her with all your being, but her lack of an attention span seemed like it was out to get you.

As Abby sits down on the couch, you look over at Mike. His eyes are wide and his eyebrows are furrowed. He glances back into your room, the locket he got you for your 3rd anniversary haphazardly hanging out of the drawer. You both stare at each other for what feels like forever. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

Mike opens your front door, not even bothering to announce his arrival. He sits down next to you, a huge smile on his face. “What?” You mirror his smile, confused as to what he might be so excited about. “Okay, I know our anniversary isn't for a few days but I- I just couldn’t wait. I'm sorry it's cheap, I couldn’t afford much.” He says, awkwardly. 

He reaches into his hoodie pocket, taking out a velvet box. You look up at him sweetly, gasping as you open it. You pull out a heart-shaped locket. You feel your eyes well up as you open it, reading the words engraved inside.

“I’ll love you forever and Always, Mike.” 

You fling yourself onto him and you wrap your arms around his waist. He pulls you into him kissing you sweetly. In between kisses you mumble out, “I love you so much.” You feel so loved and so grateful that you met someone like him. You didn’t care about the money, he was worth so much more than gold or diamonds to you. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You shake your head, pushing the memories out of your mind. Mike looks away from you, his cheeks growing rosey. You sigh loudly, sitting down next to Abby. Over the next few hours, you and Abby color what feels like a thousand different sheets of paper. 

By 11 pm, you’re both lying down on the floor, markers and papers scattered all across your living room. Mike watches from the couch, telling Abby a story as she draws him. A few times, you both glance at each other, but you both quickly turn your gaze to Abby instead. After Abby finishes her drawing, she holds it up to you and him. “It's so good!” Mike says, taking the paper out of her hand. He starts pointing out small little details Abby included, gushing over each and every one. You’re utterly entranced as you watch him. 

You miss him so much.

Your eyes widen and bite your cheek, wanting to slap yourself across the face for even thinking that. He abandoned you. That’s it. 

But.. He loved you so much. Or at least you thought so. How could he just up and leave without a word? You wanted desperately for there to be any other reason. A part of you was convinced there actually was. You bite down harder, a salty metal taste erupting across your tongue.

Whatever happened, he left. That’s it. There’s no excuse. You clench your jaw, trying to ignore the roller coaster that’s running through your mind. Maybe… Maybe for now you can forget your distaste for him. Just for a few minutes.

You smile softly as he and Abby burst out laughing. 

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

They leave. Too soon. As soon as the door shuts behind the both of them, the apartment is filled with deafening silence. You lay down on the hardware floor, the cold wood seeping through your shirt and biting into your back.

You never realized how much you truly missed Mike and Abby until you saw them tonight. Or… Maybe you just missed having someone to wake up to every day. Whatever it is, you shake it off and crawl onto the couch, too sad to walk a few feet to your bed. You pull a soft blanket over you, the edge of it just barely covering your feet.

You slowly drift off to sleep, dreaming of a time when you and Mike weren’t basically sending bombs to each other's front doors.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You bolt awake, sweaty and shaky. You look around, your heart beating out of your chest. You’re unsure of what woke you up, but it scared the shit out of you. Listening closer, you hear crying, no, wailing. And it’s coming from next door. You quickly bolt up, running to your door. But, you pause as soon as you reach it. You don't want to get involved with Mike and Abby's life more than you have to. Plus, it could just be one of her usual tantrums. It could even just be something as trivial as a burnt breakfast. You pivot, turning back towards the couch. As soon as you hear screaming, you tear up all of your inhibitions and run into the hall. When you reach Mike’s door, it flies open and a woman storms out, dragging an inconsolable Abby out.

The woman, who you recognize as Mike’s aunt, is gripping Abby’s arm so hard that the skin around her fingers turns white. Mike runs out of his apartment pleading with her, “You can see she doesn’t want to go! Please, just-” Abby digs her heels into the ground grabbing Mike's shirt with her free hand. Jane yanks Abby to her side, pulling her away from her brother. “I guess I’ll have to go to the police and tell them you kidnapped my niece! I have sole custody, not you, Michael!” Mike’s eyes go wide, the color draining from his face. He takes a step back, putting as much distance between him and Jane as possible.

You watch in shock, beyond confused about what had gone down during the two years you were broken up. “You truly are a despicable woman.” He says, disgust dripping from his voice. Mike crouches down, getting eye level with Abby. “Abby, I’ll see you soon. I promise, okay?.” His voice cracks as he reaches out, wiping her tears with his thumb. Abby wiggles out of her Aunt’s grip, running forward to wrap her arms around him. He pulls her closer as she sobs into his sweater. Aunt Jane rolls her eyes and then rips Abby away with absolutely no remorse. She drags her down the hall, turning the corner, and disappearing completely.

He sits down, pressing his back against the wall. He exhales, tilting his head back and staring into the fluorescent lights. You cautiously take a step towards him, “Mike…?” He looks over at you, his jaw clenching as he sees you. “Still can’t seem to mind your own business, huh?” He scoffs, his eyes turning away from you. You pause, crouching next to him. You desperately want to comfort him, but you just don't know how. “Can.. Can I do anything?” He looks over at you, his face twisting into a death stare. “For starters, you can leave me alone.” You flinch, feeling a wave of sadness rush over you. You can’t even imagine how he feels. “Mike, please..” You reach out, your hand brushing his.

He slaps your hand away, and screams, “I said leave me the fuck alone!” You stand up, taking a step backward. “I’m sorry for having a fucking heart, Mike!” He laughs, standing up. “Oh, you have a heart? Did you ever tell Clapton why you called him at 2 in the fucking morning?” You look away from him, swallowing. “That's what I thought. Leave me the fuck alone, and stay out of my life!” You feel tears burning your eyes, threatening to spill over. Your lip quivers as you speak, “All... All I wanted to do was help.”

“This is exactly why I left you.” He turns away, storming into his apartment. As soon as the door hits the frame you break down, falling to your knees in the middle of the hall.

⚫︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡⚫︎

You’ve been crying for hours straight, the tears seemingly having no end. Your pillow is drenched and tissues are splayed out all over your comforter. As you wallow in despair, the sun slowly sinks further across the sky, the only light illuminating your room being the white glow of the moon.  It’s crazy to you how two entire years after your separation, Mike is still making you feel so extremely worthless. You could never be enough for him, no matter how hard you tried. What you hated most though, is that he had a point. You used Clapton. For your own sick and twisted reasons, you used him. And you hated yourself for it. 

Just as you begin to sob harder, you hear a thud against the wall, coming from the hallway. The sound echoes through the walls again, and it sounds almost like someone ran into it. You hear someone grunt and struggle, cursing. You recognize the voice and you groan, taking everything in you not to get up and check on him.

Suddenly, it feels like someone takes control of your body as you walk to your door, stepping into the hallway. You see Mike fumbling with his keys, missing the keyhole every time. He’s clearly very intoxicated. It’s surreal seeing him in such a way. He never drank when you were with him, he always told you he had to make sure Abby was always looked after and always had someone to turn to. Now that she’s not here, you guess he decided nothing is stopping him from getting shitfaced.

You walk over to him, grabbing the keys out of his hands, and unlocking the door yourself. He looks over at you, and any ounce of disdain he held for you from earlier disappeared. “Thanks..” He says quietly. You invite yourself in, making sure he gets to the couch without hurting himself. You avoid eye contact the whole time, knowing if you glance at him for even a second you’d burst out into tears.

Once he’s settled, you turn to walk away, but you feel his hand grasp your wrist, stopping you. “Please... Please stay.” He pleads. You sigh, removing his hand from you. “I can’t keep doing this Mike…” You say, finally turning towards him. He has a guilty look on his face, and he suddenly can’t seem to look at you. “I... I didn’t mean it..” He slurs, his face tipped towards the ground. 

You sit down next to him, your eyebrows raised. “You didn’t mean what..?” You question. “You know. What I said earlier. I do want you in my life…” He says, his eyes tracing the floorboards. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Mike, you’re drunk.” He shakes his head, finally making eye contact. “I swear. I do. I mean.. just look at you. I treated you like dirt and you’re still helping me? You’re just.. so.. so nice.” You frown, wishing so badly he was sober. “You don’t know what you’re saying.” He reaches out, his warm hand cupping your face. His eyes bore into yours as he speaks. “I’m not ever going to lie to you again. I promise.” You’re not sure exactly what he means by “again” but you brush it off, chalking it up to more alcohol-induced rambles. 

You stand up, Mike’s hand leaving your face and falling back to his lap. “I’m going to get you a glass of water, okay?” He nods, following your every move and watching you as you walk around his kitchen. 

Your eyes begin dancing around every framed picture he has and every drawing Abby made he has clipped to the fridge. Your eyes settle on a picture of you, him, and Abby at an amusement park, almost exactly a month before he left you. You pick it up, your thumb rubbing over the scratches in the frame. That trip was unforgettable. That was the day you knew he’d be the one you’d spend the rest of your life with. You couldn’t imagine a world without him or Abby. You put it back, wondering why he still has it. 

You fill up a glass, taking it back over to him. He drinks it in one gulp and he hiccups once it’s all gone. You place your hand on his chest, slowly pushing him back to get him to lie down. He takes the hint, lying back down on the couch. Your hand lingers there for a moment too long, but you quickly tear it away when he smiles up at you. The smile is still plastered on his face as he watches you drape a blanket over him. His eyes slip shut as he turns on his side, pulling the blanket to his chin.

You look down at him for a few moments. You just don’t understand how one moment you could hate him more than anything, and the next wish everything could go back to the way it used to be. You were half of yourself without him, and just as you started to feel complete he just had to infiltrate his way back into your life. As you watch his chest rise and fall, you just can’t help but still love him. Sadly, nothing was ever going to change that. 

You slowly creep towards the door, the floorboards creaking under you. He speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him, “There was never another girl..” You freeze and turn back to look at him. “What?” Is all you can say. He doesn’t give you any explanation for what he just grumbled. You convince yourself you’re crazy and you’re just hearing things.

That night, you don’t sleep at all. You keep replaying that moment in your head, over and over. 

“There was never another girl.”

[dnfity]

they were so silly in your fic thank you so much :(( question. how do you write such realistic dialogue? your dialogue is seriously some of the best i've seen in this fandom

sorry it took me so long to get to this i wanted to try and give a good answer. i think the biggest thing that helps me is to just try to imagine them say whatever piece of dialogue i just wrote in my head. if it sounds weird, then i change it and i'll keep changing and changing it until it sounds real.

i wrote some general notes below and its long so dont open unless u want an essay on your dash:

george:

i think i find george's the easiest only bc i watch his videos/streams the most. some notes for him is that he says dreams name when talking to him A LOT. if u notice, he'll usually say it after shorter commanding phrases. for example, "it's fine, dream" or "stop, dream" or "i dont know, dream". he'll also use his name at the beginning of phrases whenever hes about to complain about something lmao. let's say george wants to go out or something. instead of straight up saying he wants to go out, he might say something like "dream, im bored. this vicinity that we're in, it's boring" expecting dream to fix the problem for him.

adding onto that, he loves his little vocab words. words like befuddled seem to be favorites for him. i think he just likes the way certain words feel to say if that makes sense. (dream is one of those words). he also tends to speak in shorter phrases sometimes, especially when hes trying to joke around. his way of speaking in general doesnt typically involve long-winded explanations. in fact, in the past, when dream or sapnap dont understand what hes saying, he usually gets annoyed. "how do you not know what i'm talking about? you're an idiot."

dream:

the thing that stands out the most to me with dreams way of speaking is that hes usually very honest with everything he says. if he suddenly gets this surge of appreciation or gratitude towards someone, he'll most likely vocalize it. he also - contrary to george - tends to draw out his sentences. i think he is definitely a saying before speaking kind of person, and that usually involves him cutting sentences off to start new ones, run on sentences, etc. he has that adhd way of speaking lmao. stuttering, saying "like" a lot, feeling like he cant get the sentence out as fast as his mind is going, switching between topics while telling a story.

dream also sees the world through a technicalities a little lmao. what i mean by that is that he tends to want to be very specific when it comes to his actions / the things he observes. for example, he can't just say, "i slept so much last night." it'll go more like, "i slept so much last night. i slept for like, twenty hours. ok, well, maybe not twenty hours but it was like - okay, it was maybe like, sixteen hours." this i think also manifests into terms he used to use a lot such as recency bias (and george kinda does too, but i think he does it mostly when talking to dream, a way of mirroring him during a conversation).

tldr just really pay attention to the way they speak to each other and spin them around in your head.

im sure there are things im missing but i hope that was at least somewhat helpful. i also didnt read over this after typing it so if there are errors im sorry.

[lara-cairncross]

Hi! how are you? I hope fine!

I wanted to know if you could recommend me some Mikey angst fanfics. I feel like I've read them all and at the same time I haven't, hehe.

Love your fairy AU its verry beautyful

(My english is not the best 😅)

heya! i'm glad you like the au :D

I can definitely give u some recommendations for michelangelo fanfics! can't guarantee you haven't read them already, but hopefully a few of them are novel. also gonna tag @roronoacoldbrew, @desterea, and @appleblondie0397, cuz y'all asked for some mikey recs too!

I'm not gonna include all my recs, cuz that would take ages, but I DO have a collection on Ao3 that has like, ~250 entries. and they're 90% mikey-centric, sooooo there's a lot more there! it's linked at the bottom of this post :D

i'll be your detonator -> rottmnt, 4k one-shot, oh my god this fic/series deserves so much more attention. bad future timeline, follows Mikey being THE coolest motherfucker while having several mental breakdowns and arguing with Leo and missing his brothers a lot. the writing style of this author is probably my favorite on this entire list-- like, I would read a novel written like this!!! please read it oh my GOD. and then message me to tell me you read it so I can have somebody to talk about it with I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH

atrophy -> 2012, 36k two-shot. ohhhhh boy this one is NOTHING but angst. follows Mikey reflecting on his life and his relationships with his brothers, right before a suicide attempt. second chapter is his brothers reflecting on their relationships with him as they try to save his life. if I'm being honest, the language is a little too flowery for my taste at certain points? but it's also VERY visceral and graphic, and if you're looking for angst this is literally as angsty as it gets!! like seriously check the tags on this one

1660 days ago -> rottmnt, 4k one-shot human au that isn't exactly mikey-centric?? but basically, follows Donnie's POV after he, Raph, and Leo all die in their family home and stay behind as ghosts. Mikey is a little kid who moves in and is the only one who can see them, and they all begrudgingly adore him. ITS SO CUTE AND IT NEEDS MORE ATTENTION PLEASE. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

over the rainbow -> 2012 x rottmnt, by @vanillavengeance! I think a lot of people have read their other fic (which is also amazing and definitely recommended), but their most recent one is SO GOOD ALREADY and it deserves more attention. Rise!Mikey opens a portal as a tot, falls straight into the 2012 verse, and gets found by Karai-- so he ends up in the hands of the Foot Clan! SUCH good Mikey angst and the relationship between 2012 Raph and Rise Mikey is absolutely adorable, I love them so much :,) 2012 RAPH IS SUCH A BIG BROTHER AND I WILL NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT

house away from home -> 2012, AuDHD Mikey rep!! and also anxiety and self-esteem issues and dysfunctional family activities and swufhehnfenhhjrr HEY I LOVE THIS FIC but it does. hit a little close to home. REALLY WELL WRITTEN AND FANTASTIC EMOTIONAL ANGST THO! and also Woody is here :D completed, but the author has it listed as 3/4 chapters, so don't be scared off by that!

choose wisely (or at all) -> rottmnt, 8k one-shot, turtle tots!!! this one is SO CUTE omg-- basically, Mikey is his brothers' favorite playmate, but because he's so little all three of them just kinda??? make him play whatever they wanna play? LIKE ok it's hard to explain but it's literally just a fic about little kids messing around and how being the youngest sibling sucks and learning to speak up for urself and it's PERFECT. THIS IS MY COMFORT FIC. its sweet its fluffy its (slightly) angsty and i love it dearly!!!!

stalling -> 2012, 1k one-shot. VERY short but pure Mikey angst. he stays behind to fight Shredder to give his human siblings time to escape and warn the other turtles :,)

walk with open hands -> 2012, 10k two-shot by @goodlucktai. Mikey gets his hands on one of Renet's time-traveling clocks after Splinter dies, and jumps around the timeline to try and save him. takes some really cool cues from Rise!Mikey's powers! GOD I CANNOT RECOMMEND THIS FIC ENOUGH. like this altered my brain chemistry the first time I read it.

--actually now that I think about it. basically ANYTHING BY THIS AUTHOR IS AMAZING. so much fantastic 2012 Mikey-centric stuff!!! you do have to go back to their older works, since most of their recent fics have been about Rise Leo-- but it's worth it! a few of my other favorites by them are:

the entire give up the ghost series -> 2012 human au where Donnie dies, Mikey is the only one who can see him, and he becomes a paranormal investigator in college because of it;

problem child -> 2012 human/highschool au that's basically 100k words of the 2012 boys fucking around and being family and overcoming difficulties together and Mikey being the most annoying lovable golden-retriever ray of sunshine to ever exist;

traveling so far to get there -> 2012 one-shot where Mikey and Raph end up in a post-apocalyptic world and just kinda,,, chill? until they don't. idk how to explain it but it's really fun, I love how Mikey and Raph's dynamic is written here :D

either way, we're not alone -> rottmnt, 16k one-shot that takes place over the course of the Kraang invasion in the bad future timeline, all from Mikey's POV. another one that doesn't have NEARLY as many hits as it deserves oh my god-- I love love love fics that take a look at this timeline and how fucked up it was! and this is a rly nice mikey-centric one :)

promise -> rottmnt, 8k two-shot by @dysfunctional-doodle. Listen this author has so many amazing Mikey fics from basically every iteration, BUT. THIS ONE. THIS FIC IN PARTICULAR. IS ABSOLUTELY MY FAVORITE. follows Mikey in the good timeline as he grows his mystic powers, with the caveat that he starts seeing visions of the future. I ain't spoiling anything more than that but GOD plz read this one it makes me insane, and the second chapter??? HEARTBREAKING the angst is 10/10. I also really really love this fic by the same author, so that's another one I recommend checking out if you haven't read it before!

big siblings, big family -> 2012, 2k one-shot. this one's pretty short BUT ITS SO CUTE. Mikey gets sick with a virus that only infects mutants, so all his human siblings get to take care of him-- featuring big brother Casey and big sister April and big sister Karai, and hey. hey what if I screamed. i love this concept so much THOSE ARE HIS BIG SIBLINGS!!! AND HE'S THEIR LITTLE BROTHER!!!! this makes me so happy, not super angsty but Mikey does get REALLY sick so you can count it as hurt/comfort :D

orenjinohana -> rottmnt, currently 120k+ words by @geoblitzz and @urlocalllama!! this fic is SO fucking angsty and delicious and terrifying,,, like I would get sick to my stomach with anxiety whenever a new chapter dropped. Mikey catches the eye of a really dangerous yokai and gets kidnapped, abuse and gaslighting and angst ensue. you gotta be especially careful with the tags/trigger warnings on this one tho-- not gonna spoil too much, but things get dark. this fic isn't complete, but it's reached a very natural end to its first arc in my opinion? so you can finish it without feeling like you've read an incomplete fic :) also check the comment section on every chapter if u wanna see me going insane I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH

the better half of better things -> 2012, 4k one-shot, ITS SO FUCKING CUTE. Mikey and Leo hanging out at 3am, Leo comes out as transfem to Mikey, sibling bonding ensues. this is another author that I LOVE the writing style of, but this time it's more for their humor??? like the comedic timing in their fics is SO GOOD. this fic in particular is my favorite but they've written some really fun Rise ones too! not angsty at all but as the CEO of baja blast duo I needed to include it lmao

wanting, getting, needing -> rottmnt, 2.5k one-shot. Mikey dies saving Leo during the events of the movie, and everything kinda falls apart without him. this one's pretty short but ngl I LOVE this concept, Mikey is always depicted as the heart of the team in every iteration so it's super fun to see what happens when he's no longer there!

remember your mission -> 2012, 60k words. IT'S A FUCKING MIKEY-CENTRIC PACIFIC RIM AU. I love this fic to death. it's got ANGST it's got COMFORT it's got SIBLING BONDING it's got,,,, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. but also the sillies being silly!!! anyway the ending broke me. read this one at ur own risk but like,,, DO ACTUALLY READ IT LMAO and then. once again. yell at me that you did so I can talk to somebody about it. Mikey being able to drift with basically any of his family members??? and the four main boys all being interchangeable because they're just THAT close????? perfection

someone to protect -> 2012, 3k one-shot. Mikey's brothers get turtlenapped during a mission that goes wrong, he gets to be a badass and rescue them, and ends up getting seriously injured in the process. hurt and comfort! yay!

our hearts beat louder (than thunder) -> rottmnt, currently 5k words by @belleyells and still being updated as far as I know! Mikey gets injured during a battle and loses his memory; cue older brothers being worried sick and trying to prevent Mikey from freaking out and being scared of them. I'm so excited to see where this one is going!! it's angsty, but Mikey with memory loss is also just,,, really fun to read about in my opinion ahdhehfhrh

the night at rucker park -> rottmnt, 78k words. Shellshocked fic!!! honestly, one of the few Mikey/Miles fics where I feel like both of them are characterized really accurately? anyway its ~80k words of the two of them falling in love and fucking around and being idiots and-- in Miles' case-- slowly experiencing cellular decay! Yay for angst! I know I keep saying this but GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. IT DESERVES MORE ATTENTION. give it some love plz, it's also one of the only finished Shellshocked multi-chapter fics I could find (coming from somebody who currently has an unfinished multi-chapter Shellshocked fic shhhhhh)

be like your brothers (and never like yourself) -> 2012, 25k words. this is another author who has so many FANTASTIC mikey-centric fics from multiple iterations, but this one is definitely my favorite from them!! Mikey's self-worth is so low that he starts picking up specific traits from each of his brothers in an effort to be more "useful", which. doesn't go very well. very angsty, lots of mikey hurting (emotionally and physically), but also pretty cute at the end! hurt/comfort my beloved mwah <333 I LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH something about it itches my brain

feed me poison till i drown -> 2007, 8k one-shot. Leo leaves, everything kinda falls apart, aaaaand Mikey ends up being convinced to join the Foot Clan by Karai! and the eventually his brothers find out and everything goes very terribly wrong. and i love it. the ending is also left up to interpretation, so it's a really cool read! not super angsty, but Karai's mind games leave Mikey as an unreliable narrator, and the breakdown of his relationship with his family is really well done :D plus anything with Karai and Mikey bonding makes me happy sooooooo

trust is earned (not freely given) -> 2007, 2.5k one-shot, from the same author as the previous entry I believe? mikey's brothers slowly realize that something is wrong with him-- they can't read his emotions or his actions anymore, he dodges questions, etc etc. eventually donnie realizes that they fucked up and he doesn't know how to fix it! no real resolution, just angst and dysfunctional families YAY

when you can't sleep at night -> rottmnt, 7k one-shot. follows three separate instances in Mikey's life where he had trouble falling asleep for whatever reason, went to his brothers for help, and got all the sibling love and comfort he deserves :D primarily fluffy but there's definitely some hurt/comfort in here, especially for the part that takes place after the events of the movie! this is another comfort fic for me ahdhehfhher it's just. very cute. and it reminds me SO MUCH of my little brother when he was a toddler SO IT MAKES ME FEEL SAD AND HAPPY AT THE SAME TIME RAHHHHH

so, I guess we all have issues -> 2012, 122k, human au. OH MY GOD. LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN EVERYTHING BY THIS AUTHOR IS SOME OF THE BEST SHIT YOU'LL READ IN THIS FANDOM BUT THIS FIC IN PARTICULAR WAS SOOOOO FUCKING GOOD. super fucking angsty, but also a lot of sibling bonding??? technically found family??? basically, the 2012 boys all get reincarnated as humans, but Mikey is the only one who remembers their past lives and the fact that they're siblings. he goes on this whole journey to find out where Leo and Raph and Donnie ended up (kinda? cuz in the end they all sort of come to HIM instead but yknow), and has to convince them of the fact that they were mutant ninja turtles in a past life. so that's fun! also raph is trans and leo has PTSD and donnie is struggling as a child genius AND ITS SO GOOD AND SO ANGSTY AND SO FLUFFY AND ITS COMPLETED SO THERES NO REASON WHY YOU SHOULDNT READ THIS RIGHT FUCKING NOW RAHHHHHH

other fics (specifically mikey-centric) by the same author because i swear to god they're LEGENDARY TO ME:

on the flipside -> rottmnt one-shot where April and the boys get hit with some kind of species-swap spell, and April ends up as a mutant turtle while the boys end up as humans;

exhaust trails through space -> 2012 one-shot where Donnie and Mikey need a fucking vacation from Earth (don't we all), so Donnie gets a spaceship from Bishop and Pb&J duo get to fuck around the cosmos for a few weeks and ignore their problems while actually enjoying each others' company;

(un)reality -> 2012 two-shot where Mikey gets captured by the Kraang during his stint in Dimension X and basically gets brainwashed to the point where he tries to kill his brothers when they finally come for him;

play the fool, pity the fool -> 2012 two-shot with MEGA depressed Mikey, this one in particular is really well written-- his downward spiral into depression, his suicide attempt, and his eventual recovery are all written beautifully and realistically and MMM it's so fucking good;

if i could have it back -> 2012 one-shot human au/apocalypse/zombie au, where Mikey and Donnie get separated from the rest of their family and have to survive long enough to find them again;

these days -> 2012 multichapter, unfinished BUT basically Mikey and Donnie get fed up with the way Leo and Raph are acting after Splinter's death (this fic definitely bashes them a little but it's still a good read), and decide to leave the lair and build their own home away from their dysfunctional family;

division difference -> 2012 multichapter, also sadly unfinished BUT it's about Donnie and Mikey getting separated from Splinter and their brothers as tots and growing up feral-- super intriguing concept, and very well written :DD

the broken and the helper -> rottmnt, 9k words. Mikey playing therapist for literally his whole family except himself and completely burning out. and then his brothers figure that out and talk to him and its all very fluffy and sweet in the end and sometimes that's what i need. not super angsty, but definitely hurt/comfort!

angelo -> rottmnt, 4k one-shot. AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MIKEY GETTING THE NICKNAME "ANGELO" FROM LEO BC LEO SEES HIM AS A GUARDIAN ANGEL. baja blast duo fics you have such a special place in my heart (I need more of them) AND THIS ONE IS JUST SO CUTE IM SORRY. a little bit of angst bc of,,,, movie events? but still very cute :)

consuming darkness -> 2012, 68k words. Mikey messes up on a mission and it ends up getting Donnie seriously injured. he gets blamed by his brothers, internalizes it, gets serious with his training and basically becomes this like??? cold-blooded murderer on a revenge mission??? LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I am. SUCH a lover stories where a character loses/sacrifices everything about their personality to become what they think everyone wants them to be. THIS IS THAT STORY. and then when Raph and Leo realize what's happened to Mikey and have no idea how to "fix" him??? THATS THE GOOD SHIT OH MY GOD. love this fic inject it straight into my veins. on fanfiction.net instead of ao3 (and sadly unfinished), but it's really good for Mikey angst :3

new tricks -> 2012, 3k one-shot, another one from fanfic.net! this one isn't angsty at all, just Mikey and Splinter hanging and bonding together :D I love it though, it's such a cute little fic and very comforting to read ahdhehfhehfhr

no one is alone -> rottmnt, 23k words currently! follows Mikey dealing with everyone's emotional shit after the events of the movie,,,, except his own obviously lmao so he turns to self-harm as a way to relieve stress and anxiety, eventually gets found out, anddddd his brothers help him through recovery :) it's currently unfinished but still being updated as far as I know, and if you want angst, there you go!

temporal differential -> 2012, 7k one-shot. follows Mikey getting stuck in Dimension X for a lot longer than he lets on, and losing hope of his brothers finding him. this one's part of a mini series that kinda revolves around Mikey's time there? and the aftermath? there's a ton of fics that follow this concept but this one isn't tagged very well and doesn't have a lot of hits, so there's a chance you haven't read it if you're looking for new Mikey angst fics to read! plus mikey gets to be smart :333

breakfast for sensei -> 2012, 6.5k one-shot. WHILE WE'RE ON THE TOPIC OF DIMENSION X. this one's about the aftermath!!! AND it has Mikey and Splinter bonding at 3am so I love it so so so dearly. Mikey struggles a lot with nightmares and insomnia after he gets stuck in Dimension X, and eventually opens up to Splinter about his time there and how LONG he was alone and gets some much-needed advice and love. good angst, good comfort, Splinter being a good dad, love love love this one. plus you get a free breakfast recipe! yay!

we'll burn them down -> 2012, 9k one-shot. OKAY LAST ONE ABOUT DIMENSION X I PROMISE. sunset duo focus-- Raph is the first one to figure out that something is off with Mikey, and he's gotta decide how to deal with it! Mikey gets to be a scary badass after surviving alone for so long, Raph gets to be a worried older brother, and Donnie,,,, gets to be there too i guess lmao like i said it's very much a sunset duo fic. enjoy the angst! the hurt/comfort! it's lovely!

empty canvas -> rottmnt, 43k words. I honestly don't remember a lot about this one, BUT Mikey basically takes Leo's place in the prison dimension after opening the portal to get him out?? very very angsty, lots of hurt Mikey! sadly it's unfinished (and it doesn't seem like it'll be updated anytime soon), but what's there definitely qualifies as Mikey angst if that's what you're looking for :) and ofc lots of worried older brothers, which I adore.

--and then ofc, I have a bunch of my own Mikey-centric fics here! I've really only written for Rise so far, but I'm dedicated to mikey angst o7

and like I said, I also have a whole collection on ao3 dedicated just to my favorite TMNT fics! there's genuinely SO MANY MORE I could recommend, but I tried to stick to ones that are older/don't have as many hits?? Kinda?

The rest of my recs would be in this collection! Most are Mikey-centric, but there's a few in there for the other boys too:

for my rottmnt hyperfix | Archive of Our Own

I should warn you though-- I didn't have my collection moderated originally, so people could add their own fics to the collection if they wanted! but then some weirdo Tc*ster ended up adding their shit to it, and I'm pretty sure there's at LEAST one tc*st fic in there somewhere. I've locked it down since then and don't allow outside contributions anymore, but you might wanna filter those tags out :( I contacted ao3 about removing those fics but I never heard anything back. just a warning!!

anyway. hopefully this is helpful for the, like, five people who ALSO feel like they've read every single Mikey fic in existence lmao

[lllivia]

Lottie Matthews x tired fem reader

Reader is overworking herself because she's stressed about very important exams that will guarantee she gets to the college she wants, but lottie noticed this, and just drags her away from her desk to cuddle and pamper little cutie kisses all over her face, body, basically everywhere until Reader falls asleep :((

U said to send requests, so idk if this one is all that good 🥹

I'll always take care of you

Lottie Matthews xf!reader

a/n: AHH I HOPE THIS IS OK, I'VE NEVER REALLY GOTTEN REQUESTS SO I'M PROBABLY NOT THAT GOOD YET (also I forgot to read through it properly and kinda went offscript with some of it sorryy) 😭😭

Summary: Lottie tries her best to comfort you in a stressful situation

Warnings: not proofread, kinda short, modern au, tooth rotting fluff

_

"Fuck" you mutter as you sit up, rubbing your eyes as you look down at the cluttered desk where you accidentally fell asleep for a few minutes, once again.

You look down at your stuff and sigh, tired of all the studying you have been doing for the last few weeks to make sure you'll ace your upcoming exam.

As you sort through the multiple stacks of paper and pencils your phone suddenly vibrates in your pocket, effectively breaking you out of your trance.

'Hey can I come over? Soccer practice just finished 😎⚽' - lottie the loser🤓💕

The notification lights up, making you giggle tiredly as you see the message from your girlfriend. You hadn't really spent too much time together lately, usually clinging onto each other 24/7, but ever since your exams had started you had been locked up in your room revising everything you had learned for much more time than needed.

You quickly go to answer, your happiness sucked out of you as you look down at your work again and remember you still have stuff you haven't gone through as throughly as you would have wanted.

'I'm sorry Lottie but I don't think I have time for that rn, too busy studying ☹️💔' - you

You respond before putting your phone down, focusing once again on your work.

After about an hour you decide it's time for a well deserved break and stand up from your desk, swaying slightly from the exhaustion weighing down your body before collapsing right into bed thinking a thirty minute nap wouldn't hurt.

DING

You shoot up from bed, wondering who could have just rang the doorbell as your parents weren't expected home from their date until late that evening and the only other person who you had talked to was Lottie, who you specifically told not to come.

DING DING DING

Comes from down stairs once again and you throw your blanket off of you, a tiny bit pissed off that somebody decided to disturb the little time of rest you had set off for yourself.

A few long seconds go by before your hand wraps around the handle to your front door, opening up to whoever interrupted you.

"Hi baby!!" Your girlfriend excitedly says as you open the door for her, stepping into your house before you can even utter a word.

"Now I know you said not to come over, but we haven't hung out in so long and I miss youu" Lottie pouts, shrugging off her backpack before wrapping her long arms around you.

"I miss you too Lot, it's just that I have to nail this exam to pass my final grade" you sigh again, feeling miserable about rejecting her as you pull away.

"Come on y/n, I haven't seen you looking up from your notes in WEEKS, you look exhausted and you need to rest. " Lottie responds with a mildly stern voice as she tries to hide her sadness.

"It's just a couple more weeks, I'll be fine! There's no need to worry about me" you try to reassure her.

"I have to get into this school Lot, It's where my parents always wanted me to go, and I don't want to disappoint them.." You continue, suddenly somber as you try to contain an overwhelming gush of emotions.

"You have nothing to worry about y/n, I know you, you're probably going to do better than anyone else ok? So let's take a little break together, it will probably be easier to study after you've slept a bit" Lottie says gently and lifts her hand up towards your face to brush over your cheek gently in an attempt to comfort you.

Quickly accepting defeat you lean into her, too exhausted to argue as you let yourself relax properly for the first time in a while. "Well I was planning to take a tiny break anyways, but no longer than an hour, ok?" you muster a small smile and playfully poke Lottie.

"Ok then, go lay down in your bed, I'll be right there" Your wonderful girlfriend gushes and hurries to her backpack as you start walking towards your room.

10 minutes go by with no sign of Lottie before you start to get to get suspicious. You're about to get up to check if she left when she walks through the doorframe with a tray in her hands, balancing two steaming cups of tea, two blueberry muffins (from your favorite cafe) and a bowl of fresh fruit while looking extremely proud of herself.

"Oh gosh, you didn't have to do all of this Lot" you let out a surprised laugh making the girl opposite of you grin even wider, her tiny fangs showing.

"Of course I did, I love you" She puts the tray down in your lap and snuggles up close to you. "And I'll always take care of you, okay? So if you ever feel this much pressure and stress again just come to me and I'll help you in any way possible" she peppers your cheek with kisses and wraps her arm around you affectionately, using the other hand to turn on the tv.

What feels like hours go by as you relax together, enjoying the peace as a movie plays.

You end up laying in Lotties lap as her hands soothingly brushes through your hair, her head coming down to kiss you once in a while as she explains that your lips are so addicting that she'll never get enough of them.

And then before you know it the tray is set aside and you lay down, your back pressed against Lotties front as she whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you Lot" you whisper tiredly, your slightly slurred words making her chuckle as she kisses you all over.

"I love you too baby, I'll wake you up in the morning, you need some proper sleep" she whispers back as all your thoughts drift away, the last thing you feel being Lottie shifting one last time to kiss your forehead before she slowly begins falling asleep too, her heart beating steadily as she listens to your calm breath with a small smile on her face, happy that she managed to make you feel better.

_

a/n: so sorry idk anything about how american high schools or college's work so Idrk how they do exams either 😍

PLEEEASE SEND REQUESTS I'M BEGGING YOU 🙏😩