#and im invited to her son's birthday

[greppelheks]

Going to my friend's baby boy's birthday today. Feeling very grown. Feeling adult.

[heyitslapis]

physically nauseated thinking about how i turn 26 in 4 days

[barry2018-2023]

got myself so worked now I gotta clam down before the plans I have that I dreading in a few hours

[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 !

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[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙂𝘼𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙔𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

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• 𝙋 𝙄𝙉 𝙑 (𝙒𝙧𝙖𝙥 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥!) 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙀𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙎𝙀𝙓, 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓.

• 🖤 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🖤 •

It had been a year since Dean had disappeared along with the angel Castiel. It’s also been a year since they all lost Bobby singer as well. But it’s been 6 months since she decided it was time to move on from looking for him. All she did was find dead end after dead end. Sam, he hadn’t looked for his brother, but he found happiness in a woman named Amelia. He was happy and that’s all that mattered. It’s also been 3 months since she had Dean’s baby. She didn’t know she was pregnant until weeks later. So, she spent 9 months pregnant stressing about looking for the love of her life and the father of her baby. But it was dead end after dead end. So she had to put that aside and take care of herself and try to move on.

Sam and his new girl were there most of the time. They lived in the same town as her. He visited her at times to help with her son Milo, so she can work and feed herself and her son. There were times when she would get into a depressive state and wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. So, Sam and Amelia would help her out until she would start to feel a little better.

Today was Milo’s first birthday and she had made a party to celebrate it. She had invited her co-workers with kids. She had also invited Sam, but he hasn’t made it to the party yet. The party finished and he never made an appearance. “So, is there anyway I can offer you a drink?” Henry caught her attention. She looked over at him and she smiled at him. “I need to clean all of this up.” She told him as he nods his head. “Looks like you need the drink.” He told her.

“Honestly I do need that drink.” She said as he smiled at her. They walked over to the kitchen and she takes out two glasses and the whiskey she had. She looked over at the backyard and saw one of her good friends playing with her one year old. She pours the whiskey into the glasses and hands one to Henry.

“So, what are you doing this Friday night?” He asked her as she took a drink from her glass. “Well, nothing really. It’s my day off.” She said as he nods his head at her. “So, can I take you out this Friday night?” He asked. She looked over at him. She when she opens her mouth. The doorbell rings. “One second, please”

She walked over to the door and opened it seeing it was none other than Sam. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been—.” Her words fell short as she made eye contact with those beautiful mossy green eyes. “Oh my god.” She said as she covered her mouth with her hands. “Hey, baby.” He said as a tear falls from her eye. “I-is it really you?” She asked him as he softly smiled at her. She ran into his waiting arms as he hugged her tightly, his eyes closed as he wanted to feel her embrace since the moment he made it out of purgatory. “I missed you so much.” He whispered.

“Uh, hi.” Henry broke their hug apart. Dean looked over at him frowning. “Who’s this?” He asked as she looked over at Dean. “Uh, can you give us a second?” She asked the brothers. They both nodded as they walked into the home. “Um, im sorry. Uh, I don’t think I can go on that date.” She told him as she could see the heartbreak in his blue eyes as he slowly nods. “You’re with Sam, aren’t you?” He asked her as she laughed. “Sam? No, Dean, yes.” She told him. He looked at her weird. “He’s the father of my son.” She said. “Fine, whatever.” He said as he started to walk away. “Henry! Henry!” She called out but he just kept on walking and ignored her call out of his name.

She sighs and walked into the home and she saw Sam and Dean in the kitchen. Dean heard footsteps coming his way and made eye contact with her and he softly smiled. “Sorry about that.” She said as Sam just shakes his head. “I get it.” He told her just as her friend Melina comes inside the house with Milo in her arms. “Mama.” A little voice said as she gave her to her. “Mama?” Dean said as he looked at the little boy.

He walked towards her as she picked him up in her arms. “Dean, this is Milo.” She told him as he looked at the one year old. “Dada?” The baby said as he looked at Dean. “He is your son.” She told him as he looked at her. She could see the shock written all over his face. “He’s mine?” Dean asked her as she smiled. She nodded her head. “I haven’t been with anyone else, Dean.” She told him as he takes in a deep breath. “Wow, uh.” He cleared his throat at the news. “Can I, uh, carry him?” Dean asked her as she nods her head. He reached for Milo, and the little boy didn’t have a problem going with the Winchester man. “Dada?” Milo said looking into his dad’s eyes.

“I’ve showed him pictures.” She told him as he looks at her with teary eyes.

• 🌙 • • • • • 🩶 • • • • ✨ • • • • 🩶 • • • • • 🌙 •

Dean told her that he was going to put Milo to bed. And he went to go do that. She knew Dean, was always good with kids. They always loved him when they met him. Sam and Y/N were waiting for Dean to get back to the kitchen as they both drank from their drinks she poured into 3 glasses. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t come.” Sam told her as she shakes her head. “Oh no, it’s fine.” She told him. “You were with your brother.” She said just as Dean came back up with a smile on his face. Sam finished his drink and looked at them. “All right, well, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Sam said as he walked out of the kitchen leaving the two hunters alone. “Goodnight, Sammy.” Y/N said.

After Dean walked him out and locked the door he walked back into the kitchen. “So, when did you find out?” Was the first thing he asked her as he walked into the kitchen. “A month after you were gone.” She said to the man as he nods his head. “Where were you?” She asked him as he walked closer to her. “I was in purgatory.” He told her making her eyes widen “of course.” She whispered to herself. “Why didn’t I think of that.” She looked up at the Winchester man.

“You looked for me?” Dean asked her thinking that she didn’t. “Yeah, I did. For months I looked for you.” She said to him. “But I started showing, and my pregnancy became a high risk.” She told him as he nods his head. “I had to calm down or I could’ve lost Milo.” She said. “I understand.” He told her as he puts his hand on her cheek. She leaned onto his touch and she sighs. “I missed you so much.” She whispered to him. “You’re the only thing that kept me going in purgatory, getting back to you, was my only fucking motivation.” Dean told her as she smiled up at him.

“So, are you going to kiss me. Or do I have to ask for it?” She asked him as she looked up at him. Dean then smirked down at her. He leaned down and he placed his lips gently on hers. He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her towards his chest as he made the kiss deeper. Y/N moaned into the kiss as he then picked her up and sat her on the counter, his hands giving her thighs a gentle squeeze going up her dress Y/N pulled away for a breath making her gasp as he kissed down her neck to her chest as he pulled down the strap of her dress. “Fuck, Dean.” She said as she runs her hands through his short locks as he pulled down her dress making her chest pop out from her dress. Dean latched on to her nipple biting it as she moaned. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Y/N gets off the counter letting the dress fall from her body and he looked at her. “Mmm. I seen you kept yourself busy.” He said as he looked at her very fit body. “Well, I had to lose the baby fat.” She told him as he shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind some baby fat.” He told her making her chuckled as she reached for him belt buckle taking it off along with his jeans and his boxers hitting the ground as his dick sprits up. Y/N grabbed onto it spreading his pre cum around his tip as she pumps it making him breath heavy as he hasn’t been touched in nearly over a year

Dean moaned his eyes closed as she slowly pumped her hand up and down his hard dick. Dean opens his eyes and takes off his jacket letting it fall to the floor as well as his shirts. He picks her up as she laughed. He asked her where her bedroom was and she lead the way. He opened the door going inside with her.

He tossed her on the bed making her bounce a few times as he closed the door behind him. Y/N opens her legs so he could get a good view of her pretty pink glistening pussy. He watched as she puts a finger into her mouth wetting it, as she looked at his mossy green eyes. She takes it out her mouth with a popping sound making him groan as he dick jumped as he got excited. She slides it down to her clit and she rubs it slowly making her let out a moan as she hasn’t felt any kind of pleasure since the last time she was with him. “Dean, fuck.” She moaned softly.

Dean growled as he rushed over making her giggle. He got on top of her as he roughly placed his lips on hers grinding his dick on her folds making her gasp into the kiss. Dean pulled away from the kiss and kisses down her chest, her stomach, the top of her pussy. His fingers spreading her lips open as he looks at her aching pussy. “So, wet for me.” He said as he looked up at her. He leaned down and sucked on her clit making her let out a loud moan. “Ah!” She moans

Dean flicks his tongue on her bundle of nerves as his ring finger and his middle finger go to her entrance. He slides them into her slowly making her arch her back off the bed as her leg shakes a little bit. “Oh my fuck!” She gasped as the tip of his fingers touched her G-Spot. Making her legs shake as she encased him between her thighs. “Cum for me, cum for me baby.” Dean told her as he relentlessly started to pick up his pace with his fingers inside of her making her into a moaning mess. “Mmmpm.” She moaned and she groaned as she clenched on his fingers, his tongue flickering her clit making her a shaking mess.

“Don’t stop, oh god!!” She squealed as the coil in her stomach exploded making her see stars, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her walls flutter around his fingers, her juices spilling into his mouth. Twitching she slumped into the mattress breathing hard as he slowed down talking out his long fingers out of her sensitive pussy making her gasp at that.

Dean stood back up and leaned down to kiss her. She moaned as she tasted herself on his lips as he kissed her. “Please, Dean I need you.” She whispered to him. “Tell me how much.” He asked her, his voice deep and husky. “So, so, much.” She told him as he lines himself at her entrance. He immediately slides inside of her making her gasp loudly as he thrusted inside of her. Dean groaned as he felt her around him. “Fuck, baby so tight.” He grunted as he slowly starts to move his hips. “Fuck.” She lets out a loud moan and a gasp as he started to pick up his speed at a good pace. She hugged Deans shoulders making him put his head onto the crook of her neck, his breath fanning on her neck. Her grunted as he kept his steady pace. “Fuck, yes! You f-feel so good!” She said

Dean pulled almost all the way out and thrusted back inside hard. “Aaah!!” She moaned and gasped at the same time as he did it a few times. The tip of his dick hitting her sweet spot over and over, bringing her closer to the edge to her second orgasm of the night. “Faster please.” She said as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels dig into his ass making him so go deeper into her. “Ooh! Dean!” Her mouth drops open as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Cum for me baby, let it go.” Dean whispered against her neck. “Aaah!” Her back arched as she digs her nails against his shoulders as he slams into her hard. “Keep going, keep going, keep goooing! Aah!” She saw stars as she exploded. Her walls fluttering on his dick. Dean sat up on his heels and hugged her legs looking at her face as she shook uncontrollably as he fucked her so hard. He lets go of her legs putting his hands on her hips buckling them into the air grinding them on his dick as he grunted. Dean started breathing heavy as he felt his dick start to twitch.

“I’m cumming, god. Aargh!!” Dean threw his head back as he kept on grinding her hips as he coats her walls with his seed. Shot after shot as he moaned so loudly. “Fuuuck.” He groaned letting her hips go as he falls on top of her his hot breath hitting her neck. Both still felt a few twitches from his dick as he just stays still. They both do. Satisfied smiles on their faces. Dean started to pull out. “Ah.” She moaned softly as he rolled to the side his dick softens up.

Their hearts calming down from the rush they just felt. Their bodies calming down from that high.

“Whew.” Dean said as they both chuckled. Y/N went into his waiting arms with a smile on her face. She was about to say something when Milo started to cry. “Oop, fun over.” She said making the hunter laugh. Y/N got up as she stumbled a little making the Winchester man laugh. “What? It’s been a whole year of no orgasms.” She told him as she holds herself up.

• 🌙 • • • • • 🩶 • • • • ✨ • • • • 🩶 • • • • • 🌙 •

[unluckilyimnot]

Hii!! Hope you're doing well, i just discovered you and im OBSESSED with your posts. Idk if you saw the chapter 260 leaks yet, so if you dont wanna get spoiled, please read this request after reading the new chapter. I wanted to request some headcanons for ness, kaiser, reo and bachira where they are dating the reader and the readers parents basically sees them as their son (my parents are just like that for my older sisters boyfriend and they call him their son. Even invite him over for vacations and family dinners everytime. I think its really cute🥹💕) I was thinking of this request especially for kaiser after seeing his backstory. Feel free to ignore if you want to. Also thank you for your posts i LOVE the way you write💕

S/o with a welcoming family - Reo, Kaiser, Bachira, Ness

m.list | rules

Note : hi thank you for your request! You're so sweet thank you dear ♡ You don't know but that's a sensible point for myself and the day you send this I spend the night crying about my shitty parents

Kaiser

He's shocked the first time he meets your parents

He's not the type to feel comfortable around parental figure for obvious reasons

Your parents welcoming him like he belongs here touch him in a way he can't explain

He's invited more and more, your mom rely on him when she needs help and so does your dad, it's all new to him

If you have a rather intimate and physical touch is a norm, he's probably shocked at first

It has nothing to do with you and the way you touch him, yet he feels like crying the first time your mother hugged him

He's probably less cocky since he doesn't feel the need to do so around them

It just became a safe place, just after you

Ness

With you and how you talk about your parents, he already thinks that he can get along with them

But when your mom mentions how she loves books/movies he can't help but talk about what he likes as well !

He would probably be closer to her in that sense but he does his best for your dad to like him as well

He likes to help around so he's accepted really soon

If you have younger siblings he LOVES to spend time with them !!

It's endearing and you know how bad he needs it

Bachira

He'll bring so much joy to your parents

Particularly if your an only child

Seeing you with someone so childish will probably heal sometignf in them, you seem so happy and joyful

Bachrira would feel weird at first to be treated like you are but will comes to love it

He loves your parents a lot

To the point where he'll even celebrate his birthday with your family once in a while

He's never been welcome somewhere like this, it will heal something inside of him as well for sure

Reo

He's always welcome with hugs or your father's gently patting his back

He learn what it is to be listened to

He's used to speak without people listening to him so the first time your parents answer and go on the same conversation as him, he'll feel seen

His jaw clenched but a genuine smile will form on his lips

They're just like you are, warm and welcoming

Your dad LOVES him so much

They can talk together for hours and you love to see him this comfortable around your family

If you have siblings, they love him I just know it they told me

You can tell how radiant he is and it makes you glad you introduced him

He's always welcome with hugs or your father's gently patting his back

[megalony]

Overload

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine requested by anon, thank you for this it was so fun to write. I hope you all enjoy.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@butlegendsneverdie@langdonzvoid@jennyggggrrr@rogmeddows@radiob-l-a-hblah@rogertaylorsbitontheside@chlobo6@rogertaylors-lipgloss@sj-thefanthefan@omgitsearly@luckytrashgooprebel@scarsout@deaky-with-a-c@killer-queen-ofrhye@bluutac@vousmemanqueez-blog@jonesyaddiction@milanosaurus@httpfandxms@saint-hardy@7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls@mrsalwayswritex @rogerina-owns-me  @hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@noonenuts@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway

911 Masterlist

Summary: Chris is invited with the 118 to Denny's birthday party and he has a great time, until things start to overwhelm him. Then a meltdown ensues.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A smile lit up Christopher's face and he reached his arms out towards his dad, pointing up at the present that Eddie was just about to get out the boot of the truck.

"Be careful then," Eddie handed the present down to Chris, guessing that he wasn't going to be using his crutches today by the look of things.

He grinned madly and took the rather light box that rattled whenever it moved. Chris had taken the liberty to pick some dinosaur wrapping paper and he had stuck the large green bow on top of the present after he watched his mum expertly wrap it up ready for Denny. And Chris wanted to be the one to carry it in and give it to his friend on his birthday.

Hen had asked all of the team if they wanted to come over for Denny's birthday party today. She knew Chris would panic if there were a lot of other kids here who he didn't know and because Denny was very set on Chris coming along, they only invited two of his close friends from school. Chris knew everyone at the squad so he was comfortable around them and he knew Athena's son Harry who he was also comfortable around.

It was a close knit party which is just what everybody wanted and needed and Chris had been excited about this for the past three days since he found out they were coming here.

"Remember, don't tell him what the present is," (Y/n) kissed the top of Chris's head as the three of them set on a slow walk up the drive towards Hen's house. The last time Chris went to a friend's birthday, he had been very excited to give the present over but he accidentally told his friend Andrew what they had bought him. Andrew didn't care, he had laughed and still looked surprised when he opened the gift, but it was a gift and it was always nice to have a surprise present.

She felt Eddie's arm loop around her waist as they approached the door and he gently grabbed Chris's shoulder after he knocked on the door. Chris had a tendancy to try and walk in houses without or straight after knocking, he didn't quite grasp the part about waiting to be invited in. He thought it was like with his own home or his grandparents house, he could go straight in and the door would be unlocked and people would welcome him in.

"Hi! Denny will be thrilled you're all here, come in." Karen opened the door, a wide smile on her face as she ushered them inside. "Everyone's out in the garden."

They followed Karen down to the kitchen and out the back door where the noise level raised and the chaos ensued.

There were a lot of balloons tied around the fence, to the few tables outside and placed around the garden with weights to keep them from floating off into space. A banner of Happy Birthday was pinned against the fence on the right side of the garden above the buffet table.

(Y/n) could see something that would grab Chris's attention towards the back of the garden. A paddling pool. Chris was very sensory and he loved the swimming pool, if they weren't careful he would be straight in there in his clothes and they wouldn't be able to get him out. And next to the pool was a sandbox that was usually closed up but today was wide open with spades and buckets and a signpost that (Y/n) couldn't read from this far away.

They didn't get very far before Denny spotted them and it was heartwarming to see his bright smile when he realised Chris had finally arrived. Chris was the person he was desperate to be around and play with.

"You're here!" He bounded over to them, almost stumbling when Chris pushed the present out towards him with a cheesy grin and his eyes almost closed.

"Happy birthday,"

"Thank you," Denny carefully took the present and looked up at his mum who nodded and took it from him so it could be put with the rest of the presents inside for him to open later.

"It's lego."

"Chris!" Eddie tilted his head back and brought his hand up to rub his eyes, trying to smother his groan with a laugh. He knew it. He just knew Chris wouldn't be able to contain the excitement and keep the surprise. When it was his own birthday, Chris loved surprises and opening presents but for anyone else, he had a fixation on telling them what it was.

Leaning back, Chris pushed his shoulders back into Eddie's legs and tilted his head back, giggling up at his dad as he bit down on his thumb.

"Come on, mum's gonna open the scavenger hunt," Denny took Chris's hand and walked slow enough so they could trot side by side towards Hen, Harry and two other friends from school. They were all stood near the sandbox that made Chris's eyes light up.

"Scavenger hunt?" Eddie tucked his free hand into his back pocket as he and (Y/n) followed Karen over to where Athena, Bobby, Chimney and Maddie were all sat with drinks and the radio blasting music.

"Hen's buried sweets and little fidget toys in the sandbox. They'll have to dig around for buried treasure. And Buck, being the big kid that he is, has decided to help supervise them." Karen gestured to the drinks table near the rest of the team so they could help themselves to something. All of them knew that Buck would be the one to join in the games and the fun with the kids. He was a child at heart, a kid trapped in an adult's body. It was why all the kids were drawn to him and loved him playing around with them.

"One sec," Leaning over, Eddie kissed (Y/n)'s temple before he jogged towards the sand box where the kids were all eagerly looking round. They were waiting to be told when they could get in and start digging as Hen was going through the rules of the treasure hunt. "Buck,"

"Yeah?"

"Can you keep an eye on Chris while he's in there?" He pointed towards the sand, already feeling the unease washing through him.

"Don't worry, I know where all the treasure is," Buck winked and clapped his hands, he wasn't getting what Eddie meant.

"No… he's got pica and sand is sensory, he'll try and eat it if you don't watch him. It's a different texture."

Chris had been diagnosed with Pica when he was three, it was a condition that meant he would try and taste, eat or just put random things in his mouth that weren't food. He understood he couldn't eat things like sand or mud or paper but they were so sensory that he couldn't help putting them in his mouth. Chris did it for the texture, not to try and eat them or because he was hungry or desperate. It was a fixation, a sensory feeling, putting things in his mouth was Chris's way of getting a sensory fix and feeling textures.

Eddie had had a lot of arguments with Chris's last school when they didn't watch him closely and Chris started to eat the sand and either made himself sick or it came out in his nappies as a child. It wasn't safe or nice for him and he had to be watched.

When he was five (Y/n) had been doing the washing and Chris came up behind her and stuffed a handful of wash powder in his mouth because it felt grainy and fluffy and itchy. It was a bi sensory feel in his hand and he automatically put it in his mouth, then threw it up.

"I'll watch him." Buck grinned and nodded as if it was no big deal or nothing new and it made Eddie relax. The team never seemed surprised or shocked or put off when they learned about Chris's conditions, especially Buck. He took it all in his stride and he strived to make Chris comfortable and understood and help him however he could.

When Hen said the boys could start digging, Buck reached down and picked Chris up and sat him down in the left corner of the sandbox, right near a bag of sweets he knew Hen had buried there. She had planted enough so that each kid could get at least two mini bags of sweets or a little fidget toy.

"Find me some treasure," He whispered to Chris as he kneeled down on the grass beside him with Hen a few feet away, watching the other four kids.

With a smile, Chris tucked his left hand down into the sand and spread his fingers, curling his fingers to his palm and spreading them again to move the sand and get the sensory feel. He held the dark blue plastic spade tight in his other hand and started to pat and scrape at the sand until a mini pack of Haribos was uncovered.

"Uncle Buck's treasure," He giggled and tossed the pack onto Buck's lap, grinning when he turned to look over at his parents.

He could see Eddie giving him a thumbs up and (Y/n) smiled at him from where she was sat on Eddie's lap.

Tilting forward, Chris dropped the spade and rolled until he was laid on his stomach on the sand with his legs kicking out behind him. He burrowed his hands down into the sand, grabbed fistfuls and pulled his hands back up. He watched, fascinated, as the sand fell through his fingers like droplets of rain.

He grabbed some more sand and tipped his head down until his chin was perched on a mountain of sand. His lips parted in a cheeky smile and he locked eyes with Buck just as he poked his tongue over his lower lip towards the sand.

"Ah-ah, your dad told me what you're like. If you wanna try something, try a sweet." Buck held a sweet out towards Chris who kept laughing but took the bribe anyway.

(Y/n) tilted her head back on Eddie's shoulder, nuzzling her face into his neck as she looped an arm around the back of his neck while her free hand held her cup of juice. She crossed one leg over the other, trying hard to focus on the conversation but she couldn't keep track. All she could focus on was Eddie's hand that had drifted up beneath the hem of her dress and kept gliding higher and higher up her thigh.

And when she looked over his shoulder every now and then, she could see Buck laughing at Chris who was spraying sand everywhere along with Harry. It looked like all the boys had found the buried treasure they had been digging for.

"Alright, who's up for musical statues?" Hen gave a sceptical look around the team who were all sat chatting and watching the kids have their fun in the sand box.

"I'll control the music," Bobby tapped the radio that was sat next to him and caught the CD that Hen expertly tossed over to him. He wasn't so good at musical statues but he could be fair and impartial with the music and turn it on and off for the kids.

"Up, up up you lot. You can all join in,"

A few groans rumbled past their lips but all of them got up and moved towards the centre of the garden as the boys hurried over. Chris stood so he was facing both parents, stood near to Denny who was clapping and smiling in anticipation. And (Y/n) shared a look with Eddie, they both knew Chris wasn't very good at this game and he probably wouldn't try to play, he would just go along with the music.

"Okay, when the music stops, you all freeze. Anyone still moving when it stops is out. Off you go," Karen stood in front of them all, playing the role of referee as Bobby started the music.

As predicted, Chris seemed to switch off to the rules and what was happening and he went into his zone with the music.

The CD was a new pop chart with all the latest music and it was Chris's sort of thing. He held his arms out at his sides and started to shake his hands, a new stimming technique he had picked up recently. He didn't exactly move his legs or his feet but he swayed and rocked back and forth very rapidly like he was being blown about by the wind.

Every few seconds, Chris did a quick round of clapping before he went back to shaking his hands and laughing. This was his sort of party game. It wasn't often that other people danced with him and when he looked up and saw his mum and dad dancing, it made him squeal. Whenever he clapped, his mum rose her hands in the air and clapped with him and he could see his dad mumbling along to the lyrics while his hands were on (Y/n)'s hips.

Maddie and Chimney stood near them, waving their arms up and down and bending down to shimmy and sway along to the beat like they were doing a new dance routine they had memorised.

Buck was dancing with the boys and Hen, and Athena and Harry were towards the back clapping and swaying about to the beat.

As soon as Bobby paused the music, almost everyone stopped.

(Y/n) kept her arms high in the air and tried to tense her elbows so she didn't move or waver. She could feel Eddie's chest pressed up into her back and his fingertips squeezed into her hips as he tried to stay perfectly still behind her. But when both their eyes moved to lock onto their son, they grinned.

Chris was still rocking. He had his eyes snapped closed, his thumb between his teeth morphing his grin and he was almost violently going back and forth as his other hand was stimming and shaking at his side. He didn't quite grasp the rules and he didn't want to stop, he just wanted to dance and move about and have everyone laughing and dancing along with him.

"Chim, you're arm moved. You're out."

"Damn," He stomped his foot into the ground before he moved over towards Bobby to sit with a drink and watch the game plan out.

Karen looked between Chris and his parents for a second, a bright smile on her lips as she turned to check everyone else before Bobby pressed play. They couldn't tell Chris to stop dancing and sit out, he was having too much fun and he wasn't trying to play a game or win the game. He could keep dancing away and rocking in the corner, they would continue the game around him.

The music continued for a little while, Bobby timed it just right to stop the music when Harry and Athena were in the middle of their jam session and both of them wobbled on their feet before stumbling two or three paces.

They were out.

Right as the music stopped for a third time, Buck was in the middle of his dance, one leg up in the air and his arms out at his sides. (Y/n) gasped, holding her arms out when he stumbled on his back foot and fell towards her. His arms swung out, grabbing (Y/n)'s shoulder and taking her down like a domino. She slipped and felt her back knock into Eddie's legs, swiping them from under him so that he went down with them.

"I'm afraid you're all out now," Karen leaned over them with a grin and (Y/n) sighed dramatically, flopping her head onto her husband's chest.

With a manic laugh, Chris finally stopped dancing and trotted forwards until he could slump down onto Buck's chest.

"You lost Buck,"

"Have you had enough, baby?" (Y/n) tilted her head to the side as she looked up at Chris when he walked over to them.

All the boys had been sat very close to the buffet table in case they wanted seconds. They had been sat in a big circle on the grass to have their dinner while the rest of the 118 were in the chairs near the radio, finishing off their food.

(Y/n) knew Chris was a fussy eater and if he looked at the buffet, there would be too much choice for him and he wouldn't be able to choose anything, it would overwhelm him. So she had gone along the table, picking out a few tiny bits that she knew he would definitely eat and grabbed the pack of crisps from her bag she brought. He was particular on what kind and brand he would eat.

"Finished," He whispered quietly, handing over the plate so she could see he had eaten at least half of what she had put on the plate, and all the crisps she gave him.

"Good boy," (Y/n) put the plate down on the grass next to her and opened her arms so he could sit between her legs. She was sat down between Eddie's legs, her head resting on his thigh and his legs squeezing her sides lovingly. Every now and then he kept leaning down to kiss her head or card his fingers through her hair.

She curved her arms around his middle and pressed her lips to the top of Chris's head, swaying them side to side between Eddie's legs.

"You okay?" (Y/n) whispered quietly into his hair when she noticed his hands that had come up to hold her arm were twitching. He was trying to stim, he didn't usually do that when he was having a cuddle.

"Hm,"

"Mum said we can go in the pool, are you coming?" Denny hovered by the side of them, a hopeful look on his face that brightened even more when Chris grinned. He had been waiting for them to say he could jump in the pool ever since he noticed it.

"Yeah… mummy?"

Chris turned around in (Y/n)'s arms and lifted his arms towards her so she got the silent message. She smiled down at him and gently lifted his top over his head and put it down next to her bag that had all of his things in.

"You can go in your shorts baby, I've got spare clothes in the bag," (Y/n) didn't see the point in Chris taking off his shorts and sitting in his underwear when he could just get them wet and change into the spare outfit she had packed for emergencies or food disasters.

With a lasting look towards his parents, Chris swiped off his glasses and dropped them onto Eddie's lap before Denny took his hand and they headed towards the paddling pool. Eddie rolled his eyes and hung the glasses around his neck to keep them safe. The last time Chris had put them down and forgot about them, Eddie had sat on them and broke them. He wasn't making that mistake again.

Chris flopped into the water like a penguin sliding off the ice and the moment he was sat up in the water, he threw his arms out and splashed the water until it was spraying around him and bubbles started to appear between his fingers. He wasn't expecting it to be so cold but the shivers it caused and the way it made his legs jerk had him in fits of giggles.

When one of the other boys jumped into the pool rather close to him, Chris shuffled back until he was in his own little corner of the pool. He smiled when Denny handed him one of the spades from the sandbox so he could splash properly and flick the water up.

He shovelled up the water and started to stim, flicking his wrist so the water sprinkled slowly over the edges of the shovel and rained down onto his legs.

As soon as another boy started to skid and jump around the pool, Chris turned to the left so his side was pressed up into the plastic edge of the pool and he was facing away from them.

They were starting to become rowdy.

They were laughing and babbling too fast for Chris to understand what they were talking about and he didn't really want to know either. He wanted to listen to the CD playing over near his parents but even the songs sounded much too fast. It sounded like they had been sped up and the volume wasn't loud enough, he wanted it louder to drown out the sound of everything else.

He could hear beer bottles clinking together and a lot of gruff laughter and one of the boys he didn't know was shouting along to the music, ruining the song for Chris.

Chris tipped his head down and started to rock back and forth, trying to concentrate on the music he could barely hear over the loudness of everything else. His fingers tightened around the spade and his blurry eyes moved until he could see a bright green balloon a few feet from the pool.

Hen had blown up some normal balloons and put them around the garden in case the boys wanted to play with them or play throw and catch or kick them around. Chris liked balloons, he liked it when his dad would play don't let the balloon touch the floor with him and they would jump up on the sofa to hit the balloons around.

Someone popped one.

Lurching forward, (Y/n) felt Eddie's hand tighten on her shoulder and she turned around between his legs. She leaned her arms up on his thigh and pushed up between his thighs as his arm moved around her shoulders as he turned to look behind him over at the pool.

Chris didn't like loud bangs, especially not balloons popping.

"Boys, be careful please-"

"Christopher no!" (Y/n) thrust her drink out towards Buck who was sat next to Eddie before she stumbled to get up and hurry over to the pool.

As soon as another balloon popped, Chris screamed. He started to slam the spade down into the water causing waves to roll around his legs and water to sprinkle up around him. He whacked the spade down so fast and repeatedly that he started to hit himself in the knee and the thigh but he didn't care. Another scream left his lips as his eyes screwed shut and he bashed back and forth, waving his hands out at his sides.

"Baby I'm here, mummy's here it's alright. Give it to me," Reaching the pool, (Y/n) knelt down beside the edge and reached over to try and grab the spade off him, he was making his legs blotchy red and sore.

His scream pierced through her ears and when she grabbed his hand, he jerked his arm back and accidentally smacked the spade against her neck. (Y/n) leaned back, swallowing a hiss because she knew Chris didn't realise he had caught her, his eyes were still shut tight.

She pulled it out of his hand and tossed it out the way on the grass before she tried to wrap her arms around him and calm him down. She didn't want him to have a full meltdown here, not when he'd been having such a good day so far and enjoying himself. He rested his forehead against her shoulder, but only for a second before he started to thrash his head into her arm and moved his hands to scratch his nails up and down his arms.

"Come on,"

"NO!" He kept rocking back and forth and moved to kick his legs out when (Y/n) tried to pick him up.

He couldn't keep having a meltdown in the pool, (Y/n) had to get him inside so he was somewhere quieter, safer and secluded so no one could see. It wasn't fair for everyone to see him like this and it was Denny's party. But (Y/n) could already hear the music had been turned off and everyone was as quiet as a mouse. No one moved closer and all the boys got out the pool but stayed close in case there was something they could do to help.

None of the boys, or even the team, had ever seen Chris get overstimulated and go into a meltdown before.

"Eddie…" (Y/n) looked up at him with pleading eyes as her husband hurried over beside her and leaned over the pool.

"One, two, three." They carefully took an arm each and stood up, pulling Chris out of the pool and lowered him down onto the grass. "Good lad," Eddie muttered when Denny silently handed him a towel.

Eddie knelt down beside Chris and held both Chris's wrists out in front of him with one hand while he draped the towel around him with the other. Once it was tight around his body, he let go of Chris's hands so he couldn't scratch himself anymore. As soon as it was around him, (Y/n) picked him up and got to her feet. She shivered at feeling Chris scream into her neck and she could feel his nails puncturing into her back from how tightly he was clinging to her but she didn't care.

Her eyes stayed on the ground as she tried to be quick, rushing from the pool towards the house to get him inside and away from the party.

"I'm sorry, I think it's an overload, he's had too much stimulation," Eddie looked at Hen with an apologetic smile while he leaned down to grab (Y/n)'s bag so he could take it to her.

"Don't be sorry, he's not done anything wrong."

"You can turn the music back on and carry on, don't let this spoil their fun. Once he's calmed down he'll be fine." It wouldn't be fair on Denny and the boys if they kept the music off and effectively stopped the party. They were all having fun and the party wasn't over yet, they could go back to their games.

This was normal for Chris and it didn't mean anyone had done anything wrong. He had too much stimulation with the sand, the games and the water and then all the different noises and music. He needed a quiet zone to calm back down and go to normal again.

Slinging the bag on his shoulder, Eddie tried to smile at them all and waited for Bobby to turn the radio back on before he headed over to go in the kitchen where (Y/n) had gone.

"Shh, alright baby, mummy's here."

(Y/n) leaned her back up against the kitchen cupboard and bent her knees out to the sides to accomodate Chris who was curled up between her thighs. He burrowed his face into her stomach and kept his hands pressed tightly over his ears. His knees were bunched up to his stomach, the towel was wrapped around around him and (Y/n) was slowly swaying them from side to side.

"Daddy's back, look," Her hand rubbed up and down Chris's arm and she tried to nudge him to look over at Eddie who knelt down in front of them.

He rummaged around in the bag until he managed to find the dark green headphones tucked away in there. They were large oval headphones that were noise-cancelling for emergencies like this. If they were out in public and the music or the voices were too loud and overwhelming, they could slip these on Chris and he would calm down and wouldn't have to leave.

Eddie carefully nudged Chris's hands away and put the headphones on him before he tilted his chin up so he could kiss his forehead.

He dug back into the bag and found the purple dinosaur crammed at the bottom. The moment he held it out towards Chris, his eyes stopped darting from side to side and he gingerly took the teddy, pulling it into his slightly damp chest and binding his arms around it.

"There we go, all better." Eddie shuffled around from his knees to sit down on the floor just in front of them.

He spread his legs out around either side of (Y/n), caging her thighs between his and he looped his hands under her legs and lifted them up. He gave a small tug and pulled her closer until her legs were hooked around his waist and Chris was curled up between them. Chris moved down so his head was on (Y/n)'s thigh, arms still bound to his teddy and his legs splayed out over Eddie's thigh.

The shaking subsided quickly with (Y/n)'s fingers running through his hair and Eddie's hand smoothing up and down his arm, coaxing him into a rather sleepy state. He had exhausted himself.

Reaching out, (Y/n) curled her fingers around Eddie's hand, smiling up at him until he closed the gap between them and pecked her lips.

"Hey, how we doin' in here?" Hen held the door halfway open and leaned in, smiling gently down at the couple. When she peered her head a bit closer, she could see that Chris had his eyes closed and his thumb pressed between his lips. He was falling asleep.

"We're good, looks like we'll be heading home though." Eddie hadn't expected them to stay for hours today, he knew at some point Chris would either be too tired to stay or he would get fidgety and irritated and want to go home. They hadn't been expecting a meltdown, but at least it was over and he had tired himself out. They would have to suffer another bad mood later when they woke him up for his tea and bath but he would certainly be in bed earlier tonight.

"Are the boys okay?" (Y/n) tilted her head back and looked up at Hen, she felt bad for them, especially Denny, it was his party and he had to see Chris have a meltdown for the first time.

"Please, they're hyped up on cake sliding in and out of the pool. Everything's fine as long as Chris is alright. Denny's really enjoyed spending time with him."

Chris had had a good day, they would just have to be a bit more cautious next time.

[mudpuddless]

I saw a couple tags with king Halt AU and I am interested now 👀 (if you need someone to blab to about this)

okay. listen. i was rereading the early years and halt rescues duncan but refuses to call him highness and duncan gets mad, the canon dialogue is pretty much just,

halt: you-

duncan: YOUR HIGHNESS

halt : i preffer to be called halt, actually

(this is the base idea: this scene is doubly funny if halt were also crown prince)

so picture halt swimming back to shore after ferris tries to kill him and deciding actually he doesn't want this idiot in charge of his country.

halt has had about four years of ranger training on top of royal battleschool at this point and ships ferris of to the countryside, names Caitlyn as his successor to the throne and convinces his father that he should aide araluen (read: the rangers who kept pritchard informed) for diplomacy reasons.

his father thinks this will be a good lesson in war craft for the crown prince and sends him on his way.

halt and Crowley meet in the inn just like in canon while pritchard, who travelled with halt to araluen, makes his way to berrigan who was his main contact and then the plot kicks off (canon slightly to the left) halt is still halt but with the full authority of the clonmel crown behind him. he just doesn't tell people. surely this won't result in any silly situations.

big change might be that daniel, who still dies, asks halt to look for his wife, who is heavily pregnant and halt goes to find her, but presented with a baby who has no living relatives he knows of he just takes baby will and disappears him to Hibernia? Caitlyn loves her nephew. halt insist that will is not his son. will is absolutely his son and no one will be convinced otherwise.

halts father/ the king of clonmel declares Will fourth in line to the throne bc what else are you supposed to do when your heir goes to fight a war for eighteen months and returns with a baby. the king isn't an idiot, halt.

i want at least one scene where an invitation is extended to the Hibernian kings for princess Cassandras first birthday and Caitlyn shows up to represent clonmel and bonds with crowley bc they have a similar sense of humour (compatible with halt). crowley refers to halt only by "Arratay" and Caitlyn only by "my brother". they think the two should meet though crowley thinks halt doesn't know how to behave in the presence of royalty.

this would be even funnier if it was cralt/craltine (geometrically accurate love triangle my beloved) bc crowley is fawning over halt and Caitlyn unknowingly sets them up by encouraging crowley to tell his friend how he feels.

at least one scene would be halt and crowley visiting Crowleys family which is big and loud. halt is immediately a favourite of Crowleys kid sister who thinks he is the funniest person who ever lived. halt is stumped by this

the rangers are also 100% the queerest group of people in the entire country. berrigan and Leander are established and not subtle about it. at least one person is only referred to by ranger, never by any pronouns. this is never remarked upon.

the problem im still trying to figure out is how I can merge canon post TEY. halt returns to clonmel bc he has to check on his family and also bc, yk, the infant he now cares for and virtually disappears from araluen. crowley and pauline are upset bc they dont know what happened. this would be even funnier if this was craltine and they just had a highly emotional moment and then the final battle happens and suddenly halt is gone and no one knows where.

if this was really cracky they would tag along as security/diplomacy detail for duncan when he is invited to halts coronation but then again, we're not catholic so I might as well. could be fun

feel free to add anything you might find funny/devastating etc.

[srjlvr]

SEVEN ROYALTIES

“once upon a time a prince mistakenly fell in love with the wrong princess” — kim sunoo

kim sunoo x fem!reader genre: mistakenly falling in love , strangers to lovers , fluff , a bit of angst ! warnings: none (at least not that im aware of! please update me if you find anything!!) || NOT FULLY PROOFREAD !!

WORD-COUNT ; 5.2k+

NOTE. besties its been A REAL WHILE!! i’ve been trying to balance my life but i fail miserably honestly. i wrote all of this on one of my free days instead of studying for math!!😭 you better like it or i’ll cry. please leave feedbacks!! i love reading them!! hope you have a good day / afternoon / evening / night!! mentions of jungwon’s story are here too!!<3

“y/n did you forget you have manners class today? get up!” your mother was the one to wake you up after your maids failed attempts, she pulled your blanket away and you groaned.

manners classes always annoyed you. probably because it had something to do with ‘how to act in front of your future husband’ rules and manners.

“do i have to go?” you whined. your mother raised her eyebrow, “did you really just ask me that question?”

you rolled your eyes and got up, “i’m up, you can go now”

she left your room without saying anything else. you sighed loudly and sat on your bed.

“good morning your highness, let’s get you ready” one of your maids smiled softly at you.

“give me only five more minutes” you begged and she shook her head, “your mother will get furious if you’ll be late”

you closed your eyes in defeat, you know she’s right. sometimes you wish your mother wouldn’t be so strict about everything in your life.

after getting ready you rushed to eat dinner with your parents, who were already waiting for you.

“mother, father” you greeted them, without even a good morning.

your relationship with your parents is quite weird. if you’d be asked to address it you would’ve said its a co-workers relationship. you barely talk about your problems with them, nor they ask about your well-being. all they care about is royalty, royalty and royalty.

“have you heard? hybe’s kingdom will have a ball for their youngest’s birthday” your father spoke.

“oh yes! i saw the invitation” your mother answered, “it’s a no-adults party except for his older brothers, y/n you’re invited there”

you glanced at your mother who was busy cutting her bread, “hm?”

“hybe kingdom invited all younger royals to celebrate the youngest son’s birthday, you’re definitely going!!” your mother smiled.

“you’ll be able to meet your future husband there! we didn’t want you two to meet up yet but who knows, maybe it’ll be a start of something” your father added.

“we’ll tell you into more details later, now go to your class! your teacher is waiting” your mother ordered and you did as she said.

you’ve had manners classes as soon as you turned into a beautiful young lady, according to your mom, you should’ve taken them earlier—so you’d be more prepared and will have some manners in front of her friends.

when you turned fifteen, your family already informed you they decided on your future husband, and you had no option to resist, they forced this marriage on you and didn’t even give you the chance to say no.

you’ve never heard of the man, you don’t know anything about him. the only thing you do know is that you’re going to get married to him as soon as you turn 21 which means, your clock is ticking and you’re slowly going out of options.

ever since you can remember yourself, you wanted your own fairytale love story, a one love story that will make anyone envy you, a one true love story you can use when you want to tell your future kids a night story, a one true love story where you’d be the one to pick the person you’ll spend the rest of your life with.

your parents however, thought it was a good joke, and always used to laugh at it.

“true love story? there’s no such a thing” your mother always says.

“we got married for the benefit of our kingdoms, and we fell in love through the marriage, you’ll get to experience it too” your father adds.

“marrying someone you don’t know isn’t that bad! you’ll get to know each other after the wedding” your parents both love to laugh about it whenever they could.

your manners class should’ve been called ‘how to be a good wife’ class in your opinion, you learn nothing other than how to behave around your future husband and how to take care of him. stupid primitive royalties.

“good morning y/n, let’s get to class quickly” your teacher who had been waiting for you in your usually room greeted you and you greeted her back.

“what do you do if your husband tells you that he’s tired from duties and he’s hungry but the maids are already asleep?” you teacher asked.

you sighed before answering, “i get up and massage him, then go to the kitchen and make him something the eat”

your teacher clapped her hands in excitement, “that’s all for today, good job!”

this life is tiring.

when you look at your other friends who you’ve met in ball events, they seem to enjoy their single life. none of them was promised to marry someone they don’t like, so where did you go wrong?

feeling too tired from class, you decided to go and take a short nap, it wouldn’t hurt to go back to sleep right? it’s not like you have something important to do anyway.

before going to nap you laid down on your bed and stared at the ceiling.

“will i ever get to meet the person i would choose to marry?” you asked yourself before you drafted to sleep.

“sunoo!! focus!” while you were sleeping loudly, the fifth prince of hybe kingdom was busy taking manners class.

“i was just now at (your kingdom’s name) kingdom, how come it’s easier to teach ladies than gentlemen?” his teacher complained.

his teacher is your teacher as well, but of course both of you doesn’t know that.

“i apologize” sunoo quickly then bowed as an apologetic gesture.

“focus!” the teacher tsked and sunoo sat straight.

“if your wife comes home from duties and she tells you she’s quite tired, what do you do?” she asked.

“i’d ask her to tell me how her day was and i’ll make her some food” sunoo smiled widely and the teacher shook her head.

“no, no, no! you ask your maids to make her something to eat!” his teacher sounded disappointed.

sunoo pout, he didn’t understand the logic behind it all, a husband needs to take care of his wife, and what are those manners classes? who made those stupid classes anyway?

out of all 7 brothers, his parents chose him as the one who needs to suffer the most in his opinion.

sunoo is the only one who has been taking manners classes, and he’s the only one who’s promise to marry someone he doesn’t know.

does his parents think he won’t be able to find someone he’d like to marry?

“that’s it for today, practice and study more! for the next time i want you to be better” the teacher left without giving him a chance to send her off.

she must be really angry then, huh?

sunoo then sighed and gathered his papers.

“tough day?” he heard a voice and shoot his eyes to the figure who was standing right at the door.

“you could say that” sunoo nodded and dropped his glance.

jungwon pitied his older brother, he has always been the one to suffer from their parents’ endless bickering, and jungwon always wondered why’s that.

“just hold it in for a while, it’s going to end soon” jungwon walked closer to his brother and pat his shoulder.

sunoo groaned, “easy for you to say, you already basically know who you’re going to marry”

jungwon smiled a bit, “mom and dad are starting to get on your nerves, aren’t they?”

sunoo nodded, “can’t they just let me live my life the way i want to?”

a door slammed and you woke up immediately.

“i apologize your majesty, the queen asked me to wake you up from your nap” one of your maids said, “she wants to meet you in the garden”

you dismissed your maid and went down to your castle’s garden, your favorite place on earth.

“mother,” you called her, “you were asking for me”

your mother who was sitting on one of the benches turned her glance to you and smiled, “do you know why i called you, y/n?” she asked.

you shook your head and moved closer to her.

“your wedding of course!” she opened her arms and hugged you.

you let out a big sigh, of course! why would she want to talk with you about anything else?

“i’m joking, joking” she giggled, “i was a bit bored, i wouldn’t mind some company”

you nodded and proceeded to sit on the bench next to her. both of you sat in silence, she looked pretty relaxed, but you’re always being extra careful around her.

“have you ever heard of hybe kingdom?” she suddenly asked.

“no, the only thing i know about them is that they’re seven siblings, and each one is soon to get a throne”

“their family is quite weird i must say,” your mother chuckled, “the oldest son is going to marry a commoner! can you believe it??”

you nodded, “if they really do love each other, they deserve to be happy together”

your mother looked at you in disbelief, “it’s not a good reason to break a royal rule!” she argued.

“what royal rule? they’re ancient and no one’s even looking at them anymore!!” you argued back.

“ancient or not!! a royal rule is a royal rule!!”

“sometimes love is more important than a stupid rule!!”

“you—“ your mother stopped for a second to take a deep breathe, “if that’s another way of you to try and convince me to let you marry whoever you want, it’s not going to work”

you rolled your eyes and looked away, “you don’t even realize how important it is to me” you mumbled and she stayed quiet, completely ignoring what you’ve just said.

“you’re going to meet your soon to be husband at hybe’s kingdom party, you should be prepared”

eventually you left her alone and went back to your room, you had nothing to talk about together anyway.

“there you are sunoo!! we’ve been searching for you!!” hybe’s queen remarked.

“hello mother” sunoo whispered.

“your teacher told me you’re not doing well!! sunoo, what’s wrong with you?” she raised her voice and sunoo shut his eyes.

“if you’d just let me feel free and let me do what i want maybe i’ll be able to be mannered enough for you!” he spoke back and his mother stepped back.

“sunoo!!”

“what? did i say something wrong? instead of letting me find someone i’d truly love and want to marry, you’re forcing me into it!” he raised his voice back.

“this is not up to discussion!! your marriage is final!” his mother fired back, “it’s okay if you dont love her now, you’ll force yourself into it and eventually fall in love!”

sunoo sighed and tears filled his eyes, “you’d never let me live the way i want to, would you?”

his mother stayed quiet and he slowly nodded, “got it” he whispered and went to his room.

the next mornings felt all the same, manners class and getting back to sleep, it was the same for sunoo, other than the fact that he had to help his younger brothers with their own love stories. love stories that he’d never have.

“i don’t know what to do, it hurts, i miss her” jungwon cried to his older brother as he hugged him and suggested him a few steps.

looking at his brothers living freely as they want made him really happy for them, but also envy them for being their parents’ favorite in his opinion.

eventually, ni-ki’s birthday came and everyone around the castle were busy getting ready.

“good morning sunoo! time to get ready” the maids said and he barely got himself up.

“you’re going to meet your soon-to-be wife!! isn’t that exciting?” jay, who came in together with sunoo’s maids, decided to tease him a bit.

sunoo groaned and covered himself with his pillow.

“get up sleepy head! it’s your brother’s birthday today!! at least wish him a happy birthday!!” jay took the pillow and threw it at him a few times.

sunoo really didnt want to wake up today. dont get him wrong, he loves his brother, its just something about today that makes it extremely hard for him to wake up.

“right, what was her name again?” this was the exact reason sunoo couldn’t wake up, his parents couldn’t even recall his future wife’s name!

“nevermind, you need to go get ready!” his father commented.

“you’ll know it when you see her, she’s awfully pretty!” both of them said and pushed him back to his room to get ready.

“oh my dear! you’re awfully pretty!” your mother clapped as you gave her a twirl of your dress.

“you’re only saying that because you’re my mom” you scoffed and she shook her head.

“you really are really pretty, our pretty princess” your father got involved and smiled.

you gave them a short smile, “thank you—“

“can you believe it? you’re going to meet your future husband!! are you ready for it?” your mother stepped closer to you, cupping your cheeks in both hands.

“no” you sighed. “well then, be ready for it! we don’t want him to think you’re messy and unorganized”

what does not being ready for this even have to do with being messy and unorganized??

you just nodded and closed your eyes. if you start crying now, the beautiful makeup your maid had put on you would get ruined.

“we’re so proud of you, y/n” both of them said and you just nodded.

“oh! you look exactly like a prince” his brother sunghoon remarked. “i didnt look like one up until now?” sunoo rolled his eyes but sunghoon only chuckled.

“hey im just joking, you look really good sunoo” the older complimented him and sunoo smiled, “thank you”

“off you go!! enjoy the party!” your parents said as they sent you off to hybe kingdom, with a thumping heart you smiled and nodded.

five minutes into the drive and it finally sank into your mind, your parents never mentioned his name, not even once.

quick!! what should you do?? risk it all and just continue the drive and hope to find him in mysterious way? or get back to your parents and ask them for it??

obviously option one is the best option.

“we have arrived, your majesty” your driver informed you and went out to open the door for you.

you took a few deep breaths, “you can do it”

as you got out you saw lots of princesses and princes, all entering the big and beautiful castle.

“please welcome princess y/n from (name of kingdom)” the door opened for you and all eyes were on you, you hated it, you hated this welcoming.

it was somehow a royal thing, to inform of a royal entering a castle, but then what? it drew everyone’s attention to you.

you felt everyone’s gaze on you, mumbling nothings and whispering whatever. you slowly entered deep into the crowd until the other royals didnt care about you anymore.

“hello there, beauty” you heard someone say, you turned around to meet with a very pretty looking guy.

“hello” you replied back and extended him your hand for him to kiss.

you hated this too, the feeling of a stranger on your hand, why was this even a royal rule??

“i couldn’t stand seeing you alone so—“

“and finally, please welcome the hybe family” all of your heads turned to the door.

first one to enter was prince heeseung, you could see him searching for a specific person in the crowd and as soon as he saw her, he smiled.

second to enter was prince jay, he looked super focused, he too, was searching for a specific person in the crowd.

third to enter was prince jake, he looked so peaceful somehow, as if he already knew where was the specific person he was searching for.

fourth to enter was prince sunghoon and god, his visuals were no joke, whoever will end up with him definitely won a handsome one of a kind.

fifth to enter was prince sunoo, as soon as he entered you felt as if the world had stopped.

you two somehow made an eye contact for a few good seconds, as if he already found the person he was searching for.

is he….? no, he can’t be, can he?

the voice of the welcoming of the sixth prince woke you up from your deep thoughts.

sixth to enter was prince jungwon, he looked around, smiling at everyone while obviously trying to search for someone.

“and lastly, please welcome the birthday boy, riki!” as the seventh prince riki entered, everyone clapped and cheered.

only he, was smirking at everyone. he was definitely up to something.

as the party started, you started to feel tired. what if you just ditch early? no one will notice anyway.

you started walking towards what you thought was the exit, turns out it was a door for the castle’s garden.

“great, how do i get out now” you mumbled.

you heard steps behind you and turned around immediately.

your eyes widened as you saw the person that was standing in front of you.

“hello” he said with a warm smile.

“prince sunoo” you whispered under your breath, “hello”

“you probably have already heard who i am, but i’m sunoo” he said and bowed to you.

you couldn’t understand why, but you felt your cheeks heating up. focus y/n, focus!!

is he your promised prince?

“i’m l/n y/n” you introduced yourself with a curtsy, sunoo took your hand and kissed the back of it, “you look awfully pretty, y/n”

you said you hated it, hated it when a stranger kissed your hand, but why did it feel so different when he did it?

you wanted him to keep kissing your hand, and maybe not only your hand.

no, y/n what are you thinking!!

sunoo couldn’t explain it, ever since he laid his eyes on you, he felt something.

you were so, so pretty in his eyes. he saw the whole crowd but his eyes only looked at you. he wanted to get to know you more, he’s more than 100% sure you’re promised to him, how could his parents forget your beautiful name?

and if it turns out you’re not the one who’s promised to him, he’s more than determined now to make you his wife.

“would you like to have a dance y/n?” he suddenly asked, looking into your soft eyes.

you could still hear the music at the back, you enjoy dancing anyway, so why not?

“i’d love that” you replied.

sunoo took your hand and guided you, you were extremely close to each other.

your hands were around his neck, and his held your waist.

“how come i’ve never seen you before?” he asked.

“i’m not the type to go to royal celebrations, i came here for the first time since i’m kind of forced to meet my future husband” you replied softly.

“future husband?” sunoo disappointedly looked down.

did you already find your future husband? your promised one?

you shook your hand, “i have yet to find him, but now that i’m being here with you…” you stayed quiet for a bit, “i think i found him”

oh you were bold. what if he already has someone he’s going to marry to?

“oh,” he suddenly said and chuckled, “i think i already found my future wife too”

both of you shared a long eye contact, god he was so attractive and you were so beautiful in his eyes.

you changed position and crossed your hands together, going in circle while not even breaking your eye contact for a mere second.

you didn’t want to let go of each other, as the song ended, so did your dance.

you decided to sit on one of the benches at the garden and share a little conversation.

a little conversation ended up lasting for almost until midnight. you’ve been at the garden since eight pm.

you talked about your hobbies, your family, your miserable life with your manners classes.

“no way! you’re having them too?? i thought only my parents were old school” he said in excitement.

“yeah, i guess both of us are experiencing the old school parents” you chuckled.

the conversation just kept on going further and further until the maids reminded you it’s time to go.

both of you got up from the bench and looked at each other.

“i don’t want this night to end” you pout.

sunoo giggled and put his hands around your waist.

“i don’t want it to end either” he replied.

it was a comforting silence between the two of you, until he started getting closer.

“can i…..?” he asked and you nodded.

he crushed his lips on yours and held you tightly. you kissed him back and put your hands around his neck.

the kiss was so innocent and sweet, as if you’re having your first teen love.

as you slowly let go of the kiss you opened your eyes and giggled.

“there you—am i interrupting something?” you recognize this prince, it’s prince jake.

“not at all, i was just about to leave” you said after and curtsied to the prince.

you walked away but not before whispering into sunoo’s ear, “hopefully i get to see you again”

as you left, jake pushed sunoo and cheered for him. “you found her didn’t you!!”

sunoo smiled, his cheeks still blushing from the kiss you shared a few minutes ago. it was just like in the love stories he liked to read.

“oh! her name is minju!”

no. this can’t be.

after the celebration, his parents came up to him to ask him how was meeting his future wife.

only then he realized he has been wrong this whole time.

“what?” he asked.

they nodded and smiled, “we’re so glad you enjoyed! we were actually worried about you not liking her”

“i need to sleep” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i need to sleep now” he said louder.

his parents left his room, shocked and speechless. did they say something wrong?

“y/n dear, how was the party?” your parents came up to you, they’ve probably been waiting for you to get back.

you knew they didn’t really care about the party, but more about the person you’ve met there.

you already knew that the person you’re promised to marry wasn’t sunoo, but you couldn’t help it but fall in love with him.

you realized it wasn’t sunoo halfway into your conversation. your parents told you a few facts about your future husband, and none of them matched sunoo. still, you kept on spending the night with him instead of going to search your promised one.

“it was fine” you replied.

“just fine….?” they asked surprised.

“yeah”

“what about….?”

“oh, it was amazing actually, i already feel myself falling for him, he’s the person i want to marry to and no one else” you smiled, “ever since i saw him i only think of him”

your parents looked at you in confusion. they weren’t expecting to hear that from you, especially because you hated this idea.

“are you…doing okay?” they asked and you nodded, cheeks heating up after remembering your past events.

“i’ll be going to sleep now” you skipped to your room happily, leaving your parents dumbfounded.

the next day you woke up, “y/n! you got a letter” one of your maids brought your letter to you and you opened it.

‘meet me at xxxx around 9pm — sunoo’

you smiled after reading the letter, and you couldn’t help but wait for the eve to come.

around 8:30pm you sneaked out, telling your parents you weren’t feeling well and getting out slowly and surely, no one noticed you.

you arrived the place and waited for him. you sat on a bench and looked at the sky.

the sky was so dark and the stars were shining brightly, you enjoyed looking at the sky, until you couldn’t see anything.

someone covered your eyes, “guess who” you heard a familiar voice and chuckled.

“my future husband” you said.

this new nickname you gave him made him flutter each time he hears it coming out of your mouth.

he removed his hands and pecked your cheeks, “ding ding ding, we have a winner” he smiled and went to sit next to you on the bench.

“i missed you” he added.

“you saw me yesterday” you replied.

“24 hours without seeing you, my heart can’t handle it” he held his hand against his heart and you rolled your eyes, “you’re so cheesy”

“you didnt mind it yesterday” he shrugged, “i still don’t”

both of you chuckled and kept talking with a wide smile all over your faces.

the two of you knew, you knew you’re not promised to each other, you knew you won’t end up getting married to each other, so why does none of you bring this up?

you kept talking and talking without even realizing it was past 3 am. you have manners class later today, you have to get some sleep.

“you have to go?” he asked and you nodded sadly.

“my parents will kill me if i dont wake up in time” you sighed.

“let’s meet up tomorrow too, same time, same place” he said and you nodded.

you pecked his lips and ran back, leaving him with blushing cheeks.

none of you wants to admit it, but you’re not going to end up together. so you’ll just spend your time together as long as you can, holding into the fact that maybe, maybe you actually will have a chance to marry each other.

your sneaking out became a usual thing for you and sunoo, you really did keep your promise and met up every day.

“how do you want our wedding to be?” he asked you once.

your head was resting on his lap as he caressed your hair.

“my family, your family, and maybe just a few important royals, in your castle too, because that’s where we first met” you smiled and he smiled back at you.

both of you knew it’s not really going to happen, but you still held into the hope that maybe, against all the odds, maybe you will be able to change your fate.

“i love it, what do you think about honeymoon?” he asked in addition to the wedding part and you just giggled.

as you came back to your room that day from meeting sunoo, you noticed a figure sitting on your bed.

you got scared and immediately turned on the lights, just to notice it was your mother.

“mother,” you whispered.

“i thought you’re not feeling well?” she asked seriously.

“i-i went to catch some air—“ “dont try to excuse yourself” she said firmly.

you looked down and sighed, “i met up with my future husband”

her serious face turned into a wide smile, “really? what did you two—“

“kim sunoo from hybe kingdom” you cut her off as you just now told her who you met up.

“what?” she asked, the wide smile turning into confusion.

“i met up with sunoo, my future husband” you boldly said.

your mother laughed, “that was a good joke! dont scare me like that again” she continued to laugh but her laugh faded when she noticed you were serious.

“oh, you’re serious?” she asked and you nodded.

“i want to marry sunoo, mom” you said.

“that’s not possible” she argued.

“why not? i love him, he’s the person i want to marry” you said.

“a no is a no, i don’t want to argue about it” she got up.

“but i do, i won’t marry any other person, even that ‘future husband’ you’ve been telling me to marry” you’re a one stubborn child, and you’re not going to give up on sunoo that easily.

your mother sighed, “i will not argue about this with you, you’re grounded, i’ll put hundreds of guards around just to keep you here” she raised her voice.

“you can try and keep me here all you want! it’s not going to change my feelings!” you shout as she went out of your room.

sunoo wasn’t doing any better, he too, got caught as he came back.

“no!” his mother argued, “you’re promised to marry minji and that’s final! i don’t want to hear another word!”

sunoo scoffed, “out of all seven of us, you chose to be strict with me, now that i finally found someone i love, you’re taking her away from me? why did you let heeseung marry a commoner then?” he shout.

his mother stayed speechless.

“exactly, you have no good reason” he said in disbelief.

“you’re not allowed to go out anymore until you realize what you just did, minju is your future wife and no one else” she said before smacking the door.

while both of you weren’t allowed out of your castles, you could send letters one to other.

you kept communicating through that, however, it was slow and hard as one letter per day came in.

on one of the days you shared dinner with your parents, as usual you stayed quiet and didn’t talk to neither of them.

only today was different, “y/n,” your father called you but you ignored.

“we’ve decided to break off the agreement with the other kingdom” he continued and your eyes light up.

“me and your mother decided it’s what best for you, and we want nothing more than to see you happy” he said.

“does that mean…..?” you whispered and your mother nodded, “you can marry prince sunoo, we talked some sense in his parents too”

you looked at the clock and saw the time, 8:30pm.

you looked over your parents, “can i….?” and they nodded.

you pushed away your chair and ran out of the castle to search for your sunoo.

you arrived at your place with a wild smile, expecting to see him already, your smile faded as you saw no one.

your eyes teared up, until someone covered your eyes behind you, “guess who”

without waiting, you turned around and hugged the person you were so longing for.

“my future husband, my real future husband” you cried into the hug as he hugged you back tightly, not wanting to let you go.

“i missed you” he said and you cupped his face.

“i love you” you said before kissing him.

you caught him off guard but he was quick to kiss you back, holding your waist and getting you closer to him than ever.

both of you pulled away when you felt you were out of air.

you pressed your foreheads against each other with eyes closed, “it’s been so long, it feels so good to hold you again, i love you” he said and you smiled.

“i was wondering how long it’s going to take for my parents to realize i only want to marry you” you chuckled.

“took them too long” he scoffed and you nodded.

“what’s important is that you’re here now” you whispered.

“i’m here, forever and ever, i love you”

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[ceasarslegion]

Wh

What happened at chucky cheese ceasarslegion

So my birthday is December 23rd. This is... an issue when you're a little kid. It means that you get half the gifts all the other kids get because "this is for your birthday AND Christmas!" (Which used to piss me off to NO END) and that no one is ever in town or available when it's your birthday, so my then-single mom used to host my birthday parties a month before.

One year, I was really upset about this. I asked her why I couldn't have my birthday party on my birthday like every other kid got to. "Everyone else gets cake and presents on their REAL birthdays, but *I* never get them on my real birthday!"

She felt really bad about this, so she said that I could have a birthday party on my real birthday that year. She sent out invitations to every single kid in my class of 25 2 months in advance, and told them "it's OKAY if you can't make it, just TELL me so that I plan an appropriately sized party!"

3 parents said that they couldn't make it. So my mom was expecting 22 kids. So she rented out one of those big party rooms at chuck e cheese for me, thinking I was finally going to have this big party on my real birthday like I always wanted.

You wanna know how many kids showed up?

Two.

Two kids showed up. In this massive party room. When year after year I never got my birthday on my real birthday and that was supposed to be something big and special for me. And two kids showed up. Bro I cried in the chuck e cheese party room on my birthday. It was so shit and that even the guys in the costumes felt really bad for me, they gave me free tokens and didn't charge my mom for the cake.

My guy when I say that my mom was LIVID when school went back in im not exaggerating. She was ready to kill someone. First day back she CALLS INTO WORK just so she can pick me up on time and storms right up to the parents who couldn't be assed to just say "sorry I can't go" to yell at them about how they ruined her son's birthday party.

[justmeinadaze]

We're A Family Part 9 (Steddie X You)

A/N: Ok, I did warn you people so don't come at me lol Good feels and bad feels abound. Idk where this came from. Probably from some person stuff Im struggling with. But alas...Enjoy!

Warnings: Smut, ALL the angst, and fluff at the beginning and end to warm your souls, Someone from Eddie's past comes into play so his trauma is mentioned (i.e Child abuse and his mom leaving), Dylan talks a bit about his feelings with Charlie. I think those are the big triggers here.

Word Count: 4127

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem But if I know you, I know what you'll do You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.”

You grin from your place on the floor as you watch Eddie strum his guitar and sing as Steve holds her hands while she tries to balance on her feet. 

Aurora’s first birthday was coming up and you felt like time was just flying by. Steve had started school, choosing to utilize the night program so he could at least spend time with the kids while they were awake if he was off that day. Eddie had just recently been promoted to manager at the auto shop which he had originally accepted because it paid more but found that he actually enjoyed the work it provided. 

Dylan seemed to be getting along ok and was his usual happy self. While he still loved playing the guitar, he asked you if he could sign up for the Hawkins little league team and had steadily grown to being one of the best players on the team. When you picked him up from practice one day you noticed how his face changed as he hit the ball, like he was letting out all his frustrations with the tiny bat in his hands. 

After what happened your son barely brought up Charlie, following through with calling Steve and Eddie “dad” whenever he addressed them. You sent him texts of updates regarding Dylan but Vivian was the only one to ever reply and usually it was something simple like “Thank you.”

“What’s mama concentrating so hard on, huh?”, Eddie smiled as he looked your way.

“We’re going to have her birthday here, right?”

“Yeah, why not. Wayne said he’d be able to make it and I have the day off.”

“Me to. I made sure to ask for it like 3 months in advance.” Steve flops down on the floor, Aurora wiggling out of his grasp to crawl to the metalhead as she pats on his guitar. “My mom will be swinging by. I assume Robin and Kierra to, of course.”

“I have some friends at work that want to come and bring their kids. Dylan knows a few of them.”

“That will be fun for him. Maybe I can invite the guys. I know they’ve been wanting to see her again.” Eddie leans forward and kisses the baby’s cheek making her giggle. 

You stretch out on the floor in front of you and she promptly crawls towards you bumping her head into yours. “Ow. You have a hard head.” You reach out to mess with her curls the way they do. 

“She’s a headbanger like me. Yeah? Just like dada. Dada?” Eddie chuckles as she falls back on her butt, watching him speak before looking over at you. 

“Dada? Can you say that? Say I’m just like dada.” Both men laugh until a breathy sound escapes her tiny mouth. You grin at her encouragingly as they completely freeze. “There you go. Come on, baby. Dada.”

“Da…da.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie quickly picks her up and places her on his lap as Steve pulls out his phone. “Can you say it again? Who am I? Am I dada?”

“Da…dada.”

He hugs her to his chest as the three of you smile excitedly. “That’s right, princess. I’m your dada.” He turns her around to face Steve. “That’s your dada to.”

You scoot towards the other man and point at his chest as her wide eyes watch you intently. “Dada?” She follows your finger as you point between them repeating the phrase hoping she doesn’t get confused. Her little hand reaches towards Steve’s phone and he pulls it out of her reach as she crawls towards him, headbutting his chin before he places a kiss on her head. 

“Da…da.” She falls onto her back looking up at him as she reaches her hand out again. “Da…da…da.”

##############

“No, she can’t be talking yet.”, Wayne grins as he bounces the baby on his hip. “You need to stay a baby as long as possible. Your dad grew up too fast and I hate it.”

You grin at him as Dylan and the other kids run past you out to the backyard where some of your friends were sitting on the patio talking amongst themselves. 

“Yeah, Steve went from toddler to high schooler in the blink of an eye.”, Mrs. Harrington smiled from her place at the table. 

“Stop it, both of you!”, you giggle. “I still haven’t accepted that this year my son will be 9. I can’t even think about high school.”

The boys were both outside entertaining the older kids while you started cleaning up some of the plates from the table and putting away the left-over food. A knock on the door startled you as you looked in that direction. 

“That’s weird. No one else should be coming…” Drying your hands, you head towards the front door. A beautiful, older woman a bit younger than Wayne stood before you smelling to high heaven like cigarettes. Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders over a Van Halen t-shirt and some obnoxiously tight blue jeans. There was something familiar about her but you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what it was. “Can I help you?”

“Hi. Uh, does Edward Munson live…here?”, she asked as she looked around behind you. 

“May I ask what you need with him?”

“Or even Wayne… I recognized the truck outside…”

You leaned back, gently calling for the man as he strode over. He froze in place when their eyes met. 

“You can’t be here.”

“Wayne, I need to talk to my son.”

“You should have done that 15 years ago, Lynn, when you left him on my doorstep.” He frustratingly sighed as his eyes met your panicked ones. “I got this, Y/N. Go ahead and get back to your guests.” Wayne stepped further out and closed the door behind him. 

Numbly, you headed back to the kitchen where Steve was talking with his mom who was holding Aurora. He noticed immediately something was off, running to your side. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“We…we need to keep Eddie outside.”, you whisper. 

“Honey, why? What’s wrong with Eddie?”

The man himself comes in holding Dylan upside down in his arms as the small boy laughs. You both meet his eyes and he blinks as he flips his son back around, placing his feet on the ground.

“What’s wrong?”

“Eddie…I…”

“No, Wayne! I have every right to at least talk to him!”

“Lynn! This isn’t your house!”

Eddie’s mom rounded the corner, her eyes locking with his. “Edward.”

“Mom?”

################

You and Steve busied yourselves around the living room, cleaning up from the party. Everyone had gone home and Dylan had taken Aurora up to her room before laying on the floor to keep her company while everything unfolded. 

“Why don’t you go upstairs to, Y/N?”, Steve whispered. 

“Steve Harrington, if I didn’t leave you alone with your father what makes you think I’d even consider leaving him here with her.”

“Because Wayne and I are here to keep him safe.”

All three Munson’s sat at the dining room table silently as Eddie glared into the void with his arms crossed, his leg bouncing under the table. 

“Whose birthday is it?”, she asked, sighing when no one answered. “I’m going to guess from the pink cake I saw that woman put away it’s the baby girls?”

“’That woman’ is my wife and ‘the baby girl’ is my daughter.” Eddie’s tone dripped with venom and it killed you. Eddie rarely ever got angry and even when he did it wasn’t anywhere near the level Charlie had gotten to more than a few times. The only time you ever heard him really scream and shout was during D & D or on stage. 

“Um, can I smoke in here or—”

“No.”, everyone responded in unison.

“Jesus, fine. It’s not a big deal, you know. I used to smoke around Edward all the time.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m so well adjusted. Either that or the abandonment.”

“Look, Lynn, just tell the boy why you’re here so you can be on your way.” Wayne seemed more in control than his nephew but his anger was just as strong as he glared at the woman across from him. 

She exhales as she straightens up in her seat. “I, uh, have you spoken to your father?”

It was Steve’s turn to sigh as he sat at the foot of the stairs, you leaning against the wall in front of him where you could still keep an eye on everything. 

“What reason would I have to do that?”

“Because he’s your father.”

“Oh, fuck you. Do you really want to play that game right now?!”

“Eddie!” Wayne extended his arm towards the boy, gesturing for him to calm down. “Get to the point, Lynette.”

“He needs help. Your father has an opportunity to get his sentence reduced but he needs character witnesses. We thought…maybe…”

You growled as you began stepping forward, Steve immediately reaching out to grip your arm and hold you in place. 

“I don’t think my testimony would help. ‘Yes, your honor, he may have taught me how to boost cars, threaten people, and beat the shit out of me but I assure you he’s a really great guy!’”

“Eddie, he wasn’t perfect but he did the best he could.”

The metalhead chuckled as he rose from his chair, clenching his fists as he paced in place. “Best he could… Wayne did the best he could. I fucking do the best I can for my kids. Dad did jack shit for me and I still haven’t gotten an apology…from either of you!” 

Your heart breaks as you watch him get slowly wound up.

“Is that seriously all you showed up for after all these years? To ask me to lie for him? You seriously are amazing. You hunt me down, show up at my daughter’s birthday party, barge into our house… you don’t even bother to try and get to know me or my family…just thought ‘hey I’ll see if he’s available to lie to a judge. He definitely has nothing to lose.’”

“How did you know where he was?” All heads turn to you as you step into the area turning to face his mother. “Who told you where to find him?” Your eyes meet as she sighs again. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Lynn.”, Wayne groans. 

“He still has friends in town including some that work at the plant with his uncle…”

Eddie’s gaze shift between the three of you trying to figure out what you all know.

“How long have you been talking to him?”, you ask. When she doesn’t answer the anger in your body starts to boil over. “Eddie has a right to know especially since he never even got so much as a fucking postcard! Yet you can keep in touch with his asshole dad.”

“Allen is my husband—”

“And Eddie was your son! How fucking dare you—”

“Baby, come on.” Steve comes up behind you and tugs you to him. “Remember, there are kids in the house. Calm down.” He reassuringly rubs your arms as you aggressively huff in his chest.

“How long?”, Eddie asks. “Since he went in?” He laughs when she nods. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

Her jaw tightens as she stands, reaching in her pocket to place a card on the table. “I’ll be in Hawkins for the next month or so. If you change your mind, just call me here.” 

Wayne walks her out as you and Steve watch the metalhead continue to fume.

“Eddie…”

“No! No one come near me right now!”

He continues to bounce on his toes as his fingers run frustratingly through his hair before abruptly hurling his fist through the air and punching the nearby wall. 

############

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, come on, Ed. You know by now 90% of the time we all get into a car, it’s bound to be a surprise to at least one person.”, Steve grins. “And like always, Dylan is the mastermind behind this venture.”

You son smiles from his place in the back seat as the other man pulls up into a parking lot. 

“Aren’t these the batting cages he practices at?”

Dylan hops out of the car, ushering for Eddie to do the same as he takes his hand with Steve following behind. You linger back to gather Aurora and allow your son to work his magic.

He leads the metalhead towards an empty area explaining to him why the helmet is important and which type of bats he prefers while his other dad finds a bench near the cage, motioning for you to sit beside him. 

“Ok, so when the ball comes, you’re going to want to swing as hard as you can.” Eddie understood enough about sports to get that was a given but, for Dylan, continued to react like this was all new information for him. 

When the first ball shot out, he swung and missed. 

“No, dad, that’s ok. I know it can be a bit fast. You have to try and keep your eye on the ball as it comes towards you and lower your hands a bit.” 

The ball shot out again and this time Eddie hit it, sticking out his tongue towards you and Steve as you both cheered in your little area. Aurora noticed and began pressing her hands together as she smiled, pointing her tiny fingers in his direction. 

The next few balls that head his way, he hits and sends towards the net on the other end that makes your son smile with pride. 

“Now, when I play, sometimes I think about… my other dad…how angry he makes me.” Eddie’s eyes meet his as he continues. “I think about how he left and how he treats my mom. How he never wanted to spend time with me like you guys do…”

Steve reached for your hand when he noticed your body stiffen as you watched them. You couldn’t hear what your son was saying but he looked so heartbroken. 

Eddie took his stance again, images flashing through his mind of his parents and how they treated him when he was a kid.

“Jesus Allen, how am I supposed to send him to school looking like this?!” His mother gestures towards the fresh welt on Eddie’s face from where his dad had smacked him. 

“Look, the little fucker almost got us caught! He cut the wrong wire and the fucking car alarm went off.”, his dad growled. 

The crack of the bat hitting the ball made you jump as he hit it harder than he had before. Over and over again, Eddie swung as hard as he could, not thinking about form or how his hands should be. With each memory he let loose, feeling the weight of the last few days lift off him. 

The machine tossing the balls whizzed to a stop as the metalhead panted, trying to catch his breath. 

“Dada.” Aurora reached his way before clapping like she had seen you do.

Eddie’s head hung as he began to cry, wrapping his arms around Dylan’s shoulders as he came to hug him. Handing the baby to Steve, you entered the cage tugging them both into your embrace. 

############

That night Eddie crashed between both of you, you clinging to his back as his head rested on Steve’s chest. While you two slept, Steve laid awake thinking about the last few days and everything the man he cared about was feeling. He hated that he couldn’t wave a wand and fix the pain the metalhead was feeling. Even though he had a much more violent up bringing in the beginning than Steve ever did, he knew what it was like to feel that abandonment when it came to both his parents. He was so grateful that his mom was being more present while trying to be better and he so desperately wanted that for you both.

Eddie’s palm moved against the boy’s chest as a tiny grumble left his lips. 

“Steve? Why are you still awake?”

“Thinking.”

“Hm. Well stop it. You have work tomorrow, man.”

“Ed, you know I love you, right? You can talk to me about anything…”

“Geez, you’re starting to sound like Y/N. ‘Would you still love me if…’”, he changes his voice to sound like yours as he smiles. 

“I’m serious, Eddie.”

Eddie opens his eyes fully as he pushes up on his elbow to look down at Steve. “I know. I just… Honestly, I thought I had left all that in the past.”

“What triggered everything these past couple of days? Was it just seeing her again?”

“Partly. Most of it was finding out she had still been talking to my dad. Couldn’t manage to pick up a fucking phone to call me but can take the time to write letters to her abusive, criminal husband. It just made me feel like I was ten all over again being left behind.”

Eddie felt your arms tighten around him as you nuzzled into his back between his shoulder blades. 

“Are you going to talk to your dad?”

“Wayne is my dad.” Steve nods in understanding before rolling on to his side to face the other boy. “Thanks, Steve. I, uh, I know we don’t…do the whole romantic thing like we do with Y/N but I do know you love me and, of course, I love you.”

“Of course.”, the boy chuckles as he reaches for Eddie’s face pulling him in for a gentle kiss. 

The other man giggles as Steve’s kisses get bolder and more passionate. “I’m kinda limited with this seatbelt around my chest.” His grin grows when he feels you hug him tighter before kissing his shoulder.

“You like it.”, you mumble with a smile as you release him from your hold and stretch. 

Steve pushed Eddie on to his back, immediately attaching his lips to his neck as he sucked and nibbled on the metalhead’s sweet spot. He lightly moaned as he turned to meet your soft but worried eyes. 

“You okay, baby?”

Eddie nodded as his thumb reached out to glide along your bottom lip before he pulled them to his own. He needed this, needed to feel and taste you both; the two people in this world that loved him unconditionally. 

Steve placed feathery kisses down his chest, reaching down into the boy’s shorts to pull out his cock. After scooting down the bed, you grab the waistband around Eddie’s hips, removing the garment to allow for more access. 

As you run your fingers through Steve’s hair, he leans down over the man’s length and a long line spit falls over the tip. Eddie groans as he strokes it with his palm, coating him with his saliva before taking him in to his mouth.  

Tilting your head, you drag your tongue along the parts of his cock he isn’t able to reach as one of your tiny hands reached to massage his balls.

“Jesus… that feels…feels so good.” 

Steve’s mouth came off him with a pop, his own tongue tracing the veins to his shaft where it found yours. Eddie perched up on his elbows, watching as you two kissed with his cock between your lips. You took over so the other man could hastily remove his boxers.

Eddie sat up, grabbing your jaw and pulling you in for a sloppy kiss before falling back down to his pillow with you in tow. 

“Turn, princess.”

When he released you, you tore off your shirt as you rolled over so your back was flush to his chest. He roughly yanked off your underwear, mewling as he glided his tip through your folds. 

“Take whatever you need, Eddie. I’m yours.”

You both moaned as he pushed himself into your entrance, kissing your neck as his arms held you tightly to him. 

The bed moved slightly as Steve laid behind him, gripping his hips as he guided his cock slowly into him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”, Eddie panted. The sound of their heavy breathing was driving you crazy as your pussy clenched around him. “Ha-harder, Steve.”

As he honored his request, you push your hips back against his own, meeting each thrust with a moan that had Eddie’s eyes flutter closed. You clung to his hand as you craned your neck as much as you could to see their faces. 

Steve abruptly pulled out, grabbing Eddie’s waist and tugging him out of you and onto his hands and knees. The metalhead’s hair hung with his head as the other boy thrust back into him, one of his palms reaching out absently for you. 

Sliding underneath him, he lifted his arm so you could find his cock and guided it back into your dripping cunt. With this new position it gave him more leverage to utilize his hips he pumped into you and pushed back onto Steve. 

“God, you both feel so fucking good.”

You whimpered as you felt the coil winding in your belly, extending your hand between you as you rubbed your clit. 

“Eddie, yes. Please… don’t stop.”

The boy pushes up on his knees and Steve wrapped his arm around his chest to keep him steady as he pounded into you. You glance up at them with admiration as Eddie’s eyes close and Steve’s head leans against his shoulder. How did I get so lucky?

“I love you.”

Both sets of eyes look down at you as you softly smile before covering your mouth with your palm, your back lifting off the bed as came. Eddie’s face scrunches in pleasure as he grunts and cums inside of you. Steve tilts him forward slightly, gripping his shoulder as he thrusts his seed into him. 

The metalhead lifts you, bringing you back up more comfortably towards the pillows and settles beside you. You play with his hair as his head rests on your chest, his arm and leg slung over your body.

“I love you to. I’m sorry if I’ve been kind of out of it these past couple of days.”

“Eddie, baby, you don’t have to apologize for something like that. I…we just hate seeing you hurt, ya know?” His mess of curls graze your chin as he nods. “I heard you answer Steve’s question but if you change your mind, we’re here for you.” 

You giggle when a shirt hits your face. “Your daughter is babbling. Clothes, beautiful people.”

You and Eddie playfully whine as he pulls on his shorts and you throw on his shirt right as Steve bounces in with a bright eyed one year old. 

“Ma’am, it is 4am. Why are you awake?” She grins as she reaches for you. “Is it because daddy let you take a nap?”

Steve holds up his hands defensively. “Okay, okay. I get it. I messed up.”

Aurora smacks Eddie’s chest and he pretends to wince. “Ow, child. I’m fragile.”

“Dada.”

“Ok, princess. You mastered dada. What about the person that pushed you out, huh?” You laugh as you lean on his shoulder. Steve climbs beside you, tenderly reaching out to smooth her hair. “Mama? Say mama?”

She rubbed her eyes as she looked around the room babbling incoherently. 

“Yeah, that’s about right.”, he chuckles. Both men try to mimic what you had done before pointing at you and repeating the word. 

There was a small knock on your door and as soon as you granted permission, Dylan’s sleepy frame came into view. 

“Why are you up, weirdo?”

“I had to go pee—”

“Thanks for the update.”

He lazily smiles at Eddie. “AND I heard you talking to Ro.”

Steve gestures him over and helps lift the boy onto the bed. “We’re trying to get her to say ‘mama’.”

Dylan grins, poking the baby’s nose making her laugh before he does the same to you. “Mama.” Her eyes widen as he does it again, absorbing his motions. Your son repeats the action, this time saying nothing when he touches your nose. Aurora’s face scrunches just like yours when you’re annoyed. 

Her tiny finger reaches for your face and you lift her to her feet as she pokes your nose like he did. 

“Ma…ma. Ma.”

“Well shit.”, Steve chuckles.

Dylan smiles in triumph as he kisses his sister’s cheek. “Dad! You can’t talk like that. We have a baby in the house.”

############

@adequate-superstar @kalinaselennespeaks @alienthings

@notasimp4joey @manda-panda-monium

@decadentwombatmiracle @katie-tibo @marsupiooo

@local-stoner-bitch @steamystrangerfics

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@actuallyspencerreid @moviefreak1205

@waylandmorgernsternherondal-blog

@kik51199 @strngrlytn @idkidknemore @damon-loves-pie

@k-k0129 @micheledawn1975 @eddie86baby

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@munsonzzgf @sidthedollface2

[ooglyboooglybitxh]

𝐍𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐫’𝐬 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

contains: MEGA FLUFF

summary:its Nahir’s birthday 🎂

🧸💙🐳🐢🧸💙🐳🐢🧸💙🐳🐢🧸💙🐳

The Day Before:

★ How old is he turning you ask??, OUR BOI IS TURNING A YEAR OLD🥹🥹🥹

★ Shuri has been thinking about it all month, shit she could barely focus on her work she was excited, but stressed for her son’s first birthday.

____________________________________

☆ “ok y/n listen ive been planning this week for Nahir's birthday im thinking about the theme what should we do?" Shuri said pacing around the room

“baby, we’re not inviting that much people remember?”

“yes but still should we have a theme”

“yeah but he doesn’t like big stuff like that remember?”

“oh yeah, shit how did i forget that” she says putting her hands on her face “im so stupid”

“no baby your not stupid, you’re just trying to make sure it’s perfect”

“but what if he doesn’t like it?”

“Shuri he’s gonna love it, he’ll be fine i promise” you say kissing her cheek

____________________________________

The day of:

★ when you and Shuri tell him happy birthday he just looks at yall like

★ he’s also confused about why tf YOU cooked him a mini gourmet breakfast. He tore that shit up tho😭

★ He was kinda catching on when Riri came over for his party talking about “HAPPY BIRTHDAY NEPHEW” and gave you a bag with shit on top of it

★ But he didn’t care about anything else When his cousin Toussaint came over they went to go play immediately, like he didn’t let Nakia say Happy Birthday 😭

★ But best believe he seen Aneka and Okoye, don’t worry yall Nakia got her hug in😹

★ When it was time to blow out candles🤦🏾‍♀️… bro, he kept backing up from the cake because he seen fire😭😭

____________________________________

☆ “its ok Nahir it won't hurt you“ Shuri said as she rubbed his back as he sadly cooed into her chest

They tried again and he backed up into Shuri’s chest again

“it's ok Nahir it won't burn you“ Toussaint said patting his head

Then he finally blew out the candles

Well Shuri did.

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

★ you could tell his favorite part was opening presents bc he had a blast

★ Nakia and Toussaint got gave him T'Challa's Black Panther necklace, which made Shuri tear up

(A/N: I almost cried getting that idea😕😕😕)

★ Riri got him a Spin toy from his favorite show

★ Aneka and Okoye got him a Meows Morales plushie that he is in love with

★ Shuri gave him kimoyo beads since he is so interested in them

★ You gave him two new pairs of shoes

★ he was so tired after everything he fell asleep on the floor in the living room. You carried him to his crib and sat on the bed continuing to what you were doing on your computer

____________________________________

🧸💙🐳🐢🧸💙🐳🐢🧸💙🐳🐢🧸💙🐳

its short and a day late ik but if yall enjoyed this request more and see yall

(A/N: I might keep updating this post as I get more ideas)

🩵- Aaliyah

[theosconfessions]

You are super cool and awesome and neat, yay! Also do you want to share more about growing up in a haunted house? ;)

omg you are the sweetest!! i was just putting in some drafts for the week coming up and i seen this and was like I SURE DO. now my mom has more stories than i do. BUT one that i still have reoccuring dreams about to this dayyyyyyy and im in my 30s.. is the apartment we grew up in when we first moved out here with my mum [ my dad was there too at the time but not really so literally just my mum in this]. so heres the thing. me and my twin never discussed this with my mum and she never discussed it with us until a few years ago . so its like we all validated out own stories and it made sense to her why she kept having experiences in that place. so. when we first moved there me and my sister were super young.and to help paint a picture of the place there was an adjoining closet that connected both rooms. our bedroom and our mums bedroom. this had a wall seperating them but it was technically the same closet. the first night we spent there she told us she woke up to a man in the closet... with a fucked up neck if you get what im saying. i dont want tumblr to get me haha. she told him he wasnt welcome here and to leave [she is a nurse and she was used to seeing shit . especially working night shift so this really didnt make her flinch here] now cut to us dumb ass little girls in our bedroom .. i remember one day seeing a boy come to us. we invited him to play barbies with us. and we named him andrew. and we remember there was something wrong with his neck. even as we grew up and we stopped seeing him physically we sensed shit in that closet and also..there was weekly occurances of what we called 'the radio men' which really sounded like a muffled group of guys talking from the living room. like they were on the radio but really really low. needless to say we spent a good bit of nights in our mums bedroom growing up. i still have dreams either trying to get out of that place or get to it for some reason. and i actually live like a five minute walk from there and often wonder how the people who are there now are doing. i like to think that my grandparents keep me protected from whatever that was now. but it still is pretty strange that now in my 30s im still dreaming about that place. likei said though my mom has stories for DAYS. this is just one. also a super short one... this isnt a ghost story per say because hes not a ghost but we were always close to our grandparents.and at the time we were in middle school they lived in south carolina. we live in pennsylvania. so its a bit of a way. i remember we went to see my grandpa in the hospital about a month before he passed and on our birthday week [me my sister and my grandpa all shared the same bday within like 4 days. his wa son the 11th ours is on the 15th] he seemed GREAT for what he was going through and i see now its because we were there.when i say this man set a prescendence in how a man should treat anyone i mean it. i still hold what he says in me to this day. fr. dont accept any less. so back to the story we were TIGHT with him. ride or die . the day he passed away we had a volleyball game we had no idea he died. i remember looking over my shoulder and seeing him in the stands. i thought hmm.thats weird. hes in south carolina [and also had cancer ] my mum came and got us and when we got home she told us that he passed away. but clear as DAY. i remember seeing my poppop in those stands. the veils always been kinda thin on this end of things. i think i get it from my mom haha. but thats just some of them~ lemme know if you have any!

[tetsunabouquet]

i know im not the only one who's mad we don't know more about seijuro's (current, and past) family dynamic... what do you think about shiori and masaomi's marriage, or them as people or parents, do you maybe have some hcs about them?

The Akashi family headcanons

-Masaomi and Shiori were arranged to be married, like many in their circles. -But Masaomi really did love Shiori. I've read enough of the 'neglectful/abusive father who allowed himself to be softened and tampered by his kind wife' trope to get this vibe from Masaomi. -However, like I stated in an earlier post, the fact they only had 1 kid and Masaomi's lack of interest in parenting gives me the feeling they only had Seijuro for duty. -Just think of the fact that outside of Midorima the GOM doesn't knows shit about Seijuro's homelife. No coming over, no birthday parties? I have a sense Masaomi doesn't really likes children at all to be frank. -Shiori on the other hand, did seem to display some actual interest in being Seijuro's mom and I can imagine that if she had remained alive, she actually would have allowed the GOM to come over for a birthday party. -Also, Shiori was the one to arrange Seijuro's birthday parties and to actually listen to what kind of party and presents he wanted before she died. Masaomi's only input was the budget and discussing the party with his bussiness partners who had kids, so he could invite some of them. -Masaomi's love for Shiori is also why he immediately tried to erase her presence from the household after she died. I can imagine, that in a culture that deems seeking proffesional help as a weakness, Masaomi views going through the grief process to be a weakness, and he's avoiding having to actually face his pain for as long as he can outrun it. -This also reflects in the way he raised Seijuro, and why he never received some therapy and medication despite clearly having some form of a psychiatric disorder. -I feel like he might have been seriously conflicted about Seijuro's disorder too. Because whilst a weakness in Masaomi's eyes, Seijuro's second personality fell perfectly in line with Masaomi's personal philosophy whilst his original personality seems to be very much influenced by his mom. -Seijuro healing thanks to Kuroko, whilst a good thing on its own, is only proving to Masaomi that his son can manage his mental health problems all on his own and that seeking help, even in the face of a potential relapse, is unnecessary.

[meatriarch]

okay but also on the note of like mr jones' military buddies like,

theres a very specific brand of loyalty & devotion & brotherhood that comes with working together & literally fighting to stay alive & keep one another alive & i think that, in worst case scenarios where mr jones Doesnt ever return home post-deployment etc? although virginia may never have her husband nor her sons' shoes cross over the threshold of their home for the remainder of her life, i do think those still living from mr jones' brothers so to speak as well as their families made sure to stay in touch, invite her out if they live nearby, invite her on holidays, try to plan little vacations she could join in on. i think they just did their best to make sure she knew she wasnt fully on her own. would make the trip to her on her husband & jesses' birthdays, or at least around those days, so she had company then.

its just like. that brand of deep-rooted loyalty & trust & im pretty sure promises were made between mr jones & his buddies to always look out for one another, yes, but to also look out for their families too in the just case they never get back home.

.

[itlivesproject]

Silvia 🥰😭🥰🥰🥺🥰🥰😘🥰🥰 ACH i love her so much. Im assuming that since Adrian is still out and about that were gonna (hopefully maybe please) see more flashbacks with her when were dealing with him (im not fishing for an answer on that dw)

but! i did wanne ask; if she had still been alive and learned that mc is dating lincoln, how would she react? Would we be getting the "of you break my sons heart ill kill you" talk or more of a "youre part of my family now" type of deal?

SILVIA 😭🥰😭😭🥰🥰🥰 don't we all just love her. the best. the goat.

if she were alive and learned that mc is dating lincoln, her acceptance of them would basically depend on 1) how happy they make linc and 2) how well she thinks they treat him. It's not like she expects the perfect person, but if she notices that they talk down on him a lot or cheat on him with his father (you know, just some examples) she would definitely be like "hey, i'd like to talk with you alone sometime, maybe for lunch 🥰" and then over lunch, she just threatens and terrifies them while being the nicest person. but if they treat Lincoln well and she sees how happy he is, she would absolutely ADORE mc. she would adopt them as her own son/daughter/child. she'd send them amazing gifts for every single birthday and holiday. she'd stop by their house with groceries. she'd invite them out on one-on-one time with her and take them to the spa, or out to a movie, or to dinner, and she'd just chat with you. especially bc mc themself is an orphan, she would really try to have a wonderful relationship with them and be like the mother that they no longer have.

now i'm feeling emo that this will never happen 😔