#and finally the text post has allowed me to write so much

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

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

word count: 21,858

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

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

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

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

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

Or to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon cries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

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

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

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

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

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

“Open the boot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

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

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

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

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

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t respond. 

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

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

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

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

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

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

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

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

“The longest of my life.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, nodding his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“How are your notes so good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem fine to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun did.

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

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

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

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

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

you: i’ll try..

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

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

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

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

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Are you going to get that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him. He’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “So much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

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

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

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Thx 😁

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. “You can.” 

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

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

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

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

“And this? If you want..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

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

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

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

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[raguiras]

POV: Deuce's very first kiss from his crush

(Click for better quality)

I'm finally officially introducing my Yuu/OC x canon/Yumeship here! (✿◕‿◕) Writing this post took me forever, but I'm super happy with it!

Reblogs are super appreciated hehehe

Please be kind & DO NOT take inspiration from this ship. ^^"

(While Allen isn't me, I'm calling them a Yumeship because he's based on my younger self/me when I first started playing TWST & because the ship gives me a ridiculous amount of comfort!)

Allen x Deuce (aka Spade of Storms) is my ultimate comfort ship and they mean a ton to me.

These two are best friends who become lovers and closely mirror each other. Deuce is the delinquent with rather bad self-control who tries to be a model student, while Allen is a former honor student who's now a very lowkey delinquent with stellar self-control and a mature attitude.

Due to the fact that Allen and Deuce are so similar and yet the opposite of each other, they're able to excellently understand and support the other, and they help each other accept themselves.

Their ship blog: @spade-of-storms (facts, drabbles & more est. May 2024)

Now why exactly are these two perfect for each other? Well...

LONG TEXT AHEAD!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Deuce:

Allen supports Deuce with all his heart. Instead of believing that someone "as stupid and temperamental" as Deuce could never become an honor student, Allen fully believes in him and encourages him. In comparison to when other people say it, these words actually have an incredibly strong impact on Deuce and are believable to him because he knows that Allen has similar experiences and speaks from them.

Allen doesn't think that Deuce is stupid in the slightest and views him as genuinely smart. To Allen, intelligence isn't determined by grades or academic abilities, but by morals, attitude, logic, and willingness — all of which Deuce has.

Allen doesn't try to change Deuce. Rather than turning Deuce into a full-on honor student and role model, which he isn't by nature, Allen prefers for Deuce to stay true to himself and work towards his goal while not suppressing any aspect of who he is — Allen knows exactly that forcefully becoming someone you naturally aren't would cause more issues than it would fix. In order to assist Deuce with staying true to himself while working towards his desired self, Allen does several things:

Allen lets Deuce be his 100% authentic self when they're together. Deuce tries extremely hard to always be polite and serious in order to maintain his reputation and not resort to old habits, but Allen, being very impulsive and easily angered himself, knows just too well that suppressing one's feelings and true nature isn't the way to go. When they're together, Deuce can openly rant about topics, use insults towards the people who angered him, and show his emotions without having to worry about how others perceive him or about how it might mess up his reputation — Allen would never judge Deuce nor share his secrets with others. This way, Deuce can be himself without restraints while also maintaining the way he wants others to perceive him.

Allen allows Deuce to be a delinquent in a safe, harmless way. If Deuce ever feels like doing something forbidden without breaking rules or staining his reputation, Allen (a very lowkey delinquent) has just the ideas for him. This provides a comfortable space for Deuce to live out his tendencies without falling back into bad habits.

Allen is able to introduce Deuce to a wide range of healthy coping mechanisms that work for him. Allen is a much angrier person than Deuce and is equally impulsive, but has stellar self-control due to the methods he uses, and passes them down to Deuce. As a result, Deuce doesn't feel the need to immediately lash out at others anymore and manages to become calmer and much more mature, taking steps into his desired direction.

Allen helps Deuce channel his "negative traits" into positive/helpful ones. With Allen's assistance, methods, reassuring words and unique view on things, Deuce learns how to use the qualities that he used to hate about himself to his advantage. Suddenly Deuce's anger is no longer a hindrance, but a source of energy and motivation.

Allen admires the things Deuce hates about himself. While Deuce wishes he wasn't as hot-headed, Allen views it as an amazing trait and sees the passion and longing for justice behind Deuce's fiery attitude. Additionally, Allen is able to help Deuce see the positive side of these traits, and aids him in channelling them into something good to use to his advantage (see above).

Allen is the only person to fully get through to Deuce. Due to them essentially having the same experiences, opinions, wishes and morals, Deuce felt comfortable trusting Allen with every last bit of his heart (in comparison to other friends) — not to mention that the way Allen was able to help Deuce so intensely and actually talked to him the way he needed it also played a role! Allen has his way with words and knew exactly how to talk to Deuce from the beginning.

Deuce can genuinely open up about his self-esteem to Allen. It's been heavily hinted at in the game several times that Deuce thinks incredibly lowly of himself, but this topic is usually cut short and he doesn't talk about it further with the canon Yuu. With Allen, however, Deuce can open up all he wants to. He knows that Allen has similar experiences and struggles with self-worth related issues himself, therefore not only not judging Deuce, but also fully understanding him.

Allen perfectly understands Deuce's past. Having been feared, avoided and known to be a delinquent/bad kid himself, Allen even understands the details extremely well. Neither of the two ever had a proper friend until they met each other on their first day at NRC.

Allen successfully helps Deuce with his studies despite hating school. Seeing how Deuce needs help, Allen (the "gifted kid") gladly volunteers, even though he's no longer interested in class and has sworn to drop the "honor student" facade himself. Due to Allen's easy explanations, methods, photographic memory and capability to catch on quickly, Deuce actually manages to improve his test results by 1-2 grades.

Allen's study methods are unique, which helps Deuce & is necessary for him. Being a slow learner (I also hc him to have some sort of intellectual disability), Deuce requires rather unique approaches to topics. As Allen is well-versed with both studying and psychology and also keeps Deuce's exact issues in mind, he's able to perfectly tailor methods and mnemonic bridges that actually work out for Deuce.

Allen makes sure that Deuce's desire to be a model student is & stays healthy. A fair part of Allen's trauma stems from being an honor student himself and having unrealistically high expectations regarding grades and attitude shoved down his throat by everyone at school (including himself), so he pays a lot of attention that the same doesn't happen to Deuce.

Allen respects Deuce a ton. Not only is Deuce determined, passionate, loyal, honest and eager, but he has the same core values as Allen, too. In Allen's opinion, finding someone with these traits is not only rare, but immediately makes them endearing to him.

Allen is patient with Deuce. He understands that Deuce occasionally has a difficult time processing and understanding things, and he isn't bothered by it in the slightest. This means even more when you consider that Allen is generally a very impatient person and is only able to be patient with those he truly loves and trusts.

Allen fills Deuce in when he doesn't understand something. Due to Allen being able to catch on extremely quickly, he can immediately explain things and situations to Deuce, helping him out and allowing him to get everything right from the beginning.

Allen indirectly protects Deuce. Known for being intimidating (in a good way), quick-witted, sly and a skilled schemer, most people — including those who enjoy picking on Deuce — shy away from Allen and avoid getting in trouble with his friends.

Allen stops Deuce from getting into fights. Whenever Deuce is about to get into a fight anyway, Allen gently but sternly reminds him of both his goal and the healthier coping mechanisms.

Allen understands that Deuce dislikes being picked on. Allen, being a sensitive person, hates it himself, and he actively tells off everyone who dares to make fun of Deuce or call him "Loosey Deucey". At times, Allen even gets snappy because of the inappropriate nicknames or insults directed at Deuce.

Allen inspires Deuce. Him being skilled at a variety of things and just logical in general gives Deuce the motivation to achieve the same. Deuce doesn't compare himself to Allen, either, and views him as an inspiration. If Allen can control himself and get positive things out of his negative traits, so can Deuce, right?! Not to mention that Allen is extremely tough and pulls through no matter what despite his mental and physical state...

Allen's maturity subconsciously wears off on Deuce. Even outside of the fact that Allen helps him grow and improve a lot through all the ways mentioned before, Deuce sometimes also subconsciously copies his boyfriend's mature attitude or asks himself what Allen would do in certain situations.

Allen is an advisor to Deuce. Deuce struggles with planning ahead, and Allen — a big-time overthinker who's extremely competent at scheming — is able to assist him. As a result, Deuce makes less bad decisions.

Allen loves blastcycles. Deuce can rant about them to Allen for hours, and the two often go on blastcycle dates together. Nothing is more fun than clinging onto your partner while driving at full speed!

Allen values Deuce's company like no other. Deuce regularly feels like a nobody, and Allen takes that feeling from him due to how much he connects with him and likes having him around.

BONUS: Allen is not only beautiful but also has an incredibly strong personality, drive, and determination and hasn't given up despite everything that happened to him. Deuce is a massive simp and his humongous crush on Allen has always been obvious due to how Deuce just can't shut up about him.

Allen:

Deuce loves and accepts Allen's body. As we have seen through his interactions with Azul and Epel, Deuce is very protective of people who don't fit the norm, and Allen is another such person — an intersex boy who was bullied for his unconventional body. Deuce has not only sworn to protect Allen from any possible discrimination, but also loves his body dearly and thinks he's super hot.

Deuce gives Allen a sense of stability. Allen's life was all about short-lived fake joys and prevailing negativity prior to coming to Twisted Wonderland, which made him feel disconnected from many things and people and gave him the feeling that everything is temporary anyway. However, Deuce's fierce loyalty and the strength of their relationship prove Allen wrong — yes, there can indeed be things in life that last forever.

Deuce's utter affection warms Allen's empty heart. Allen was never loved by anyone but his parents, who he thinks only love him because he's their son. Other than that, he never experienced love, affection, ... or even mere friendship. He was alone... until he met Deuce, who he somehow immediately connected with. It was as if their friendship was predestined by the universe... and with every day, Deuce's affection for Allen only grew.

Deuce genuinely admires Allen. Seeing how Allen always does his best, works hard, has ambitions and aims to improve impresses Deuce a ton. This is extremely healing for Allen, whose efforts were never properly recognized or rewarded before and who thinks that he needs to perfect at everything in order to be "someone".

Deuce makes Allen feel useful and resourceful. Allen often believes that he has no worth and could never make a change for the better no matter how much he tries, but seeing just how much he's able to help Deuce with a wide range of things proves Allen wrong — he's indeed capable of a lot of things. Not to mention that Deuce even passes some of Allen's tips down to Epel!

Deuce's honesty is refreshing to Allen. After being lied to and tricked by about anyone Allen ever knew before coming to Twisted Wonderland, Deuce's natural honesty and loyalty are an unfamiliar but utterly wonderful experience for Allen.

Deuce makes Allen feel understood. Allen often believes that others would view him as a monster if they were aware of his secret anger and opinions, but Deuce shares many of them. These two can openly talk about their values together and Allen feels extremely understood because of it — a feeling he barely ever experiences with other people.

Deuce helps Allen enjoy the moment. While he has some overthinking tendencies himself, Deuce is much more spontaneous than Allen and tends to act more on impulse. As a result, he can show his ways to Allen, allowing the overthinker to finally relax and think about his problems a little less.

Deuce doesn't hesitate to stand up for Allen. The fact that Allen was bullied for something he can't change in the past saddens and angers Deuce, and he has sworn to himself that he'll always protect his boyfriend. If there should ever be another situation where Allen gets bullied, Deuce won't hesitate to absolutely throw hands — this is not being a bad person and picking fights, it's standing up for an innocent person whose life was ruined by malice. Deuce wouldn't regret it in the slightest anymore, especially since Allen has helped him learn than anger isn't a bad thing.

Deuce helps Allen with becoming a proper mage. When Allen first gains magic during the final quarter of the school year, he has absolutely no control over it and is partially even avoided due to being a "walking health hazard". Deuce, however, sees this as the perfect time to pay Allen back for helping him study theory and decides to assist Allen with practical things. Through Deuce's determination and belief in him, Allen is able to improve much quicker than he would've without Deuce's help.

BONUS: Deuce is the warmth and honesty that Allen needs in his life. The boy's mere presence lights up Allen's day and Deuce's careful physical affection makes him feel like the most cherished person in the universe.

What else is there to them? (examples)

Both are extremely close with their families.

Due to being so similar and sharing many personality traits, loving each other so deeply allowed them to realize that they can easily love and accept themselves, too.

Deuce's previous incarnation had a crush on Allen's, who died way too early. In this life, the regrets of the past are being fixed.

Allen's the brain, Deuce is the brawn.

They're both extremely cuddly with each other.

LOTS OF COMPLIMENTS (from both sides).

Deuce often gifts Allen plushies.

Allen and Deuce are basically inseparable by now.

If you hang out with Deuce, you have to suffer through at least one tiny ramble about Allen.

...and much more that can be found on @spade-of-storms!

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you like the art & ship and are looking forward to more of them! (✿◕‿◕)

EDIT: Please do not take inspiration from this ship. ;-;

[gyuscoquetteribbon]

^᪲᪲᪲ what the world has to offer

SYNOPSIS: you were supposed to be home about thirty minutes ago. mingyu doesn't know why you aren't home yet and all his calls are left unanswered and his texts, delivered, but not read.

PAIRING: mingyu x gn!reader

GENRE: fluff, established relationship

WORD COUNT: 1.1k

notes: this is pretty self indulgent y'all also also omg first written piece that i've posted for the world to see in 4 years???? also im not very satisfied with how i ended this so my bad y'all but hopefully i get to write more in the coming weeks !!

hpr btw

'i'm close by, i'll be there in five mins !!!'

going by your last text, you should've been home about thirty minutes ago. needless to say, mingyu was beyond worried, pacing back and forth in your shared kitchen while he also he kept an eye on the boiling pasta.

'y/n.'

delivered.

'y/n why aren't you answering my calls???'

delivered, yet again.

delivered, but not read.

mingyu's anxiety, which had picked up upon the ten minute mark, only increased as all his texts were left unopened and unanswered.

the pasta had finally come to a boil. as mingyu turns the stove off, a soft tune fills the otherwise empty house.

his phone was ringing.

mingyu goes to pick his phone up, his speed only picking up when he sees your name illuminating on the phone screen. he attends your call, ready to chide you as he adjusts his phone so that you could see his (rather upset) face.

"y/n, why the fuck won't you—"

"i don't think i'm coming home tonight," you cut him off.

mingyu raises an eyebrow. he knew exactly why you were late the moment he saw you sat, leaning against a wall that looked much like the wall of the entrance to your apartment complex.

you angle your phone towards your lap, and there it was. the reason why you weren't home yet.

laying down cozily on your lap was a sleeping cat, pearly white fur with specks of dust and brown spots. if mingyu was right the stray was probably—

"i think he was abandoned," you pull him away from his thoughts, gently swiping your fingers over the cats ear that was cut at the tip, indicating it was spayed either by a rescue team or its previous owner. your free hand goes to cradle its head as it tips back.

a soft smile falls on mingyu's slightly chapped lips, his eyes gazing at his screen with so much love. he leans closer to the camera. "you don't even look at me with this much love," mingyu jokes, causing you to chuckle softly, "i'll bring him something to eat yeah?"

you nod and allow mingyu to cut the call. a shiver runs down your spine while you wait for your boyfriend to come down to join you. it was a particularly chilly evening. as you wait for mingyu, you watch the cat as its body rises and falls in a gentle rhythm. you had placed your woolen scarf over the cat earlier, when it had fallen asleep, afraid that it might be too cold for him. you sit there, wondering how confused the cat must have felt upon being thrown into the streets to fend for itself after being sheltered for so long. you felt sorry. the world is too cruel, you think to yourself.

"hi," mingyu's voice pulls you out of your thoughts. you lift your head to look up at your grinning boyfriend, the scarf wrapped around his neck doesn't hide his sharp canines shining under the dim light of the lamppost.

"hi," you whisper back as mingyu squats down across you. with all the sudden commotion, the cat stirs awake, sleep eyes blinking up at the new figure before him. "he's awake," you note, eyeing the cat cautiously, praying that the presence of another person doesn't scare him.

the cat sits up immediately, the scarf draped over his body, slipping onto the ground. its eyes land on the small tin of cat food which mingyu had bought along. good thing mingyu had bought a bunch of those since you have a habit of feeding strays in your area whenever you come across one.

you loved cats. mingyu knew that much. going out on walks with you almost always meant that you'd both would have to stop somewhere in the side of a road because you came across a stray cat. sometimes, you'd stop mid conversation if you see one, rushing towards it, muttering a soft "look! cat!" mingyu doesn't mind, though.

in fact, it was this quality of yours that made him fall so deeply in love with you. despite the pain the world had given you, love was all you ever gave back. that too with a big grin on your face. when you'd run towards a stray cat mid-conversation, you'd miss the fond smile that'd fall on mingyu's lips. when he'd go shop for groceries, you'd miss the absent-minded smile that'd paint his lips when he'd inevitably walk down the aisle containing pet food. when he'd see you sat beside your potted plant, talking for hours about anything and nothing at all while a slow song plays in the background, you'd miss the way he'd look at you, with hearts in his eyes.

they can hear you. it helps them grow better, you had told him.

once again, you had missed the way he was smiling at you. "or so it seems." a puff of air briefly forms in front of mingyu's mouth as a chuckle escapes his lips. the cat jumps out of your lap and approaches the can of food cautiously, almost as if it'd disappear if he'd look away. gently, mingyu pushes it closer towards the cat, assuring that the food is, in fact, for him.

you sit on your knees, your freezing hands falling on your lap as the cat takes his first few bites, his entire face fitting into the can. when he lifts his head, his overgrown whiskers are coated with minced meat. you and mingyu coo softly as the cat looks up at the two of you with his minced meat clad fur and whiskers.

you laugh, your eyes crinkling at the sides. you sounded so beautiful. music that mingyu wishes was only reserved for his ears; for him to listen to and cherish. but alas, the world knows your name.

"you've taken quite a liking towards him," mingyu points out.

you look at your boyfriend, "i wish we could take him home." an unsaid plea.

mingyu laughs softly, reaching forward to gently pat your head, "i'm free tomorrow. i'll pick you up from work and we both can take him to get vaccinated, alright?" he smiles, mirroring your own beaming smile, "i'm sure bopeul would like a friend or two when we go visit my family when i get a break."

"and, i'm sure dollop would love bopeul too," you say.

mingyu raises a brow, "is that what we're naming him?"

"yes."

"dollop it is then," he smiles, reaching down to gently boop its snout.

you miss the way mingyu smiles at you when you aren't looking. but, you never miss the way he loves you. all the little ways he's shown his love. you've never once had to ask for something. he'd know.

maybe this was what the world had to offer for all the love you've given it.

[floralcyanide]

― 𝐛𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞 (𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲)

request: car sex with carmy you and Carmy come back together, physically and romantically.

↝ pairing: Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: smut (mdni!), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), car sex, semi-public sex, nipple play, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smoking, past relationship, exes to lovers, language

↝ word count: ~2.8k

↝ author's note: I finally got the urge to write and actually put forth the effort to write, and I think this is my best fic in a while lol. I hope ya'll enjoy this, I enjoyed writing it.

based on Be Quiet and Drive (Far Away) by Deftones

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

“This town don’t feel mine. I’m fast to get away.”

Carmy usually despises parties.

But Claire begged Carmy to join her at her best friend’s party, and of course, he said yes. He’d do anything for Claire, really. Even if it meant he had to deal with people from high school who definitely didn’t remember him, loud music, and rowdy drunkards- it didn’t really matter whether Carmy cared or not. He’d even do something like this for you, even though you also weren’t a major fan of parties. But Carmy tries not to think about you right now. It’s one major reason why he was with Claire to begin with. He couldn’t have you. It’s silly, Carmy thinks, and also kind of fucked, but he was tired of being lonely all the time. 

Carmy stands in the corner, nursing a cup of beer that he’s barely drunk and doesn’t plan on finishing, watching as Claire comforts her best friend on the couch. A few people wave or smile at him, and he returns the favor, but he isn’t really into the gathering like everyone else. If Carmy is honest, he’d rather be at home right now. Claire’s best friend hurriedly gets up to take a phone call- probably from her ex- much to Claire’s dismay. But she doesn’t have a moment to get up to go after her or even sit back down on the couch fully before a random guy approaches her. Carmy furrows his eyebrows, watching the conversation carefully and with close attention. It’s the only interesting thing that has happened at this party so far. 

A few moments pass without anything remotely going on between Claire and the rando. She hasn’t even so much as glanced back at Carmy, who is watching the two of them like a hawk. Claire seems to know who this person is, so she doesn’t shy away. The guy leans in to whisper something in her ear, and she laughs, but he doesn’t pull away from her. In fact, he lingers and presses a kiss to the spot behind her ear. Claire doesn’t seem to be negatively phased by it either, and Carmy feels ice in his bones. So much for trying something with Claire after all these years. Perhaps she knew Carmy's true intentions. But still, he can’t ignore the sting of hurt he feels in his chest. No matter how much he tries to down the disgusting beer in an attempt to numb himself fully, to no avail. He even wanders to the kitchen, where the harder stuff is, pouring something clear and strong into the red solo cup he had, right to the brim. Carmy chugs it with a wince before going outside for a smoke. It seems to have worked a little to calm his racing thoughts. He’s seated on the stoop, fishing out his pack of cigarettes, when a memory of you crosses his mind. A memory of you kissing him behind his ear just like that guy kissed Claire. 

You. Carmy inhales deeply, allowing a ribbon of smoke to escape his lips as he tries to push his hurt and anger aside. He pulls out his phone.

Can you do me a favor?

He stares at the screen, waiting for you to reply to his text. It’s quite late now, but Carmy knows you’ll likely be awake. 

What’s up?

Carmy’s heart picks up at your fast response.

Can you come get me from this address? I’ll explain when you get here.

Carmy can already see the confused look you’re going to give him when you pull up to the house to see a party going on, and him be there. But stranger things have happened. Things like you and Carmy almost working out at one time. 

Sure. See you in a few.

Carmy had left for New York City, ultimately leaving you behind in Chicago. It had hurt him to do that to you, but it was for the best at the time. You took it hard but knew Carmy had to leave the city. So, you moved on. But no other person you had dated or tried dating was like Carmy. You looked for him in every person, every dish, every place you’d go. Whether it was the park or the grocery store, you found yourself subconsciously searching for Carmy there. Until one day, you found him. It wasn’t long after the news broke that Michael had passed. You still frequented The Beef quite often, as you had grown up with the Berzattos throughout school and remained friends with them in adulthood. You walked in and saw Carmy floundering in the back, yelling out orders and looking like the embodiment of stress. He had stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted you in the doorway. You reconnected with a cup of coffee, caught up, and, after a few months of casual texting, are now okay friends. It’s described as okay because, well, you wish it were more. But you have restrained yourself from talking about relationship stuff with Carmy, and he has taken that as you not being interested. Which isn’t true, but he doesn’t know that. He has always thought you were too good for him, anyway.

Carmy is finishing up the cigarette when you pull up. Claire has yet to make an appearance, and Carmy figures she’s busy with that guy. How disappointing. He puts out the cigarette with his foot as he stands up on the stoop, jogging over to your passenger side door. You give him a funny look as Carmy opens the door, just as he had expected you to. He sighs without a word- he’ll explain later.

“Any place in particular you wanna go?” you ask, automatically assuming it’s best not to ask questions right now based on Carmy’s mood.

“I don’t care where, just far.”

You end up driving to the outskirts of the city to some abandoned parking lot, tucked away behind a large building. It’s pretty private and dark despite a few straggling streetlamps.

“Care to explain why you were at a party of all places?” you ask, finally breaking the nearly hour-long silence, looking over at Carmy as you unbuckle your seatbelt and face him fully.

Carmy laughs humorlessly, rubbing the back of his neck, “The girl I’m- the girl I was seeing- her best friend threw it. I agreed to go to, you know, lift spirits. But the girl kinda got with someone else. So, I decided to leave.”

Carmy absolutely was not going to tell you it was Claire that he was with. In response, you nod slowly, swallowing the ball of awkwardness in your throat. Carmy has a girlfriend? And didn’t tell you? Or rather, had a girlfriend and didn’t tell you? You aren’t sure how to feel about that. You shrug it off.

“That sucks, Carm. I’m sorry.”

Carmy waves a dismissive hand, “It’s whatever. I didn’t really like her that much anyway. I was just trying to uh.” he trails off.

“Trying to what?” you ask, encouraging Carmy to continue.

Carmy fumbles his words, unsure of what to say here, but decides to just tell you. The worst thing you could do is laugh at him, and Carmy knew you wouldn’t do that.

“I was trying to get over you. I’m still not over you.”

You freeze, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I figured you’re over me, and why bother with old stuff, you know?” Carmy shrugs.

“Who said I was over you?”

Carmy’s head snaps up so he can look at you for the first time in over an hour, “What?”

“I’m not over you, Carmy. It’s been a while, but I’ve never gotten past what we had.”

“Oh,” Carmy sniffs.

And here he assumed he couldn’t have you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you run your palms over the steering wheel, now looking ahead, “Looks like we just never moved on, huh?”

“I guess not,” the edge of Carmy’s lips curl into a smile as he plays with his tattooed fingers nervously, “What should we do about that?”

You glance over at Carmy before averting your gaze to the streetlamp ahead, “Oh, I don’t know.”

“Hey,” Carmy whispers, leaning over the console, “Look at me.”

You let your hands fall into your lap before looking over at Carmy, your eyes meeting. You notice how close he’s leaning in. You feel yourself burn from your ears to your chest in embarrassment and want. You’re embarrassed because you’re in your car under Carmy’s thick gaze, but you’re heavy with that feeling of desire. You want him so bad it physically hurts.

“I can think of a few things we could do about it.”

You hum, “Like what?”

Carmy looks around briefly before realizing there’s no one around for a while. He unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs into the backseat, “Come back here, and you’ll find out.”

You swallow a laugh at his brazenness but follow him anyway. You clamber onto his lap, your knees on either side of his hips and your hands pressed to his taut, clothed chest. As you look into Carmy’s eyes again, all your nervousness melts away. A grin finds its way onto your face as the laugh you swallowed earlier bubbles up your throat. Suddenly, you can’t stop laughing. You feel like a kid again.

“What’s so funny?” Carmy asks, your contagious laugh making him also chuckle a little.

“Nothing, it’s just,” you look out of the windows, making sure the coast is clear, “I never thought I’d fuck in the back of my car.”

“Who said we were fucking?” Carmy deadpans, and you are sharply taken aback.

Then, Carmy is the one to start laughing this time, and you roll your eyes, smacking him on his chest, “That wasn’t funny.”

Carmy grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Is this too high school for you? Cause we can drive an hour back to my place if you need.”

“No,” you huff, “I don’t care where we are, Carm. I just thought it was an interesting place to have sex, is all. At an uh-” you glance behind you at the nearby dumpster, “At a paper plant, especially.”

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Carmy shakes his head at you, a soft smile on his face.

“Yes, chef,” you chuckle, grabbing both sides of his face and pressing your lips to his gently.

Carmy cradles you with his large hands, his fingers splayed out against your back as he pulls you closer. He moves his attention from your lips to your jaw, where he leaves a trail of kisses along where your neck connects to your ear. In the same spot that you had kissed him all those years before. Carmy smiles against your skin. He travels further down your neck, tugging at the hem of your t-shirt, which you pull off and toss into the front seat behind you. Carmy leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbones and chest as his hands wander along your naked sides, gripping the fat of your hips through your sweatpants. You sigh in contentment before moving to remove Carmy’s shirt as well. He peels it off his body and over his head in a swift motion, letting it fall behind you somewhere up front. You admire Carmy’s fit body before leaning forward to capture him in another passionate kiss, your hands fumbling to unfasten his jeans. You lift yourself off his lap for him to shove his pants and underwear down his thighs far enough for his legs to comfortably spread slightly. While hovering over Carmy’s lap, you take the opportunity to pull down your own garments, kicking them off on the floorboards. Carmy discards your bra too, while he’s at it. And now you’re completely naked and vulnerable in the backseat of your car. 

You grasp Carmy’s hard length in your hand, swirling the precum around his tip with your thumb. Carmy reaches a hand underneath you, softly testing how wet you are. He smirks when he finds you’re fairly turned on already just from kissing.

“What can I say? I missed you,” you tease.

“Did you miss my fingers, too?” Carmy asks as he delves one into your entrance.

“Yes,” you breathe out, squeezing Carmy in your hand.

Carmy groans at the feeling of you slowly jerking him as he hooks his finger inside you. He adds another pretty quickly, considering how welcoming your cunt is for him. Carmy maintains eye contact with you. His normally icy blues are now like a dark ocean. You pull Carmy’s fingers out from you, replacing them with the tip of his length. 

“Fuck,” he shudders as you push yourself onto him inch by inch, your cunt all but sucking him in graciously.

With a few rocks of your hips and Carmy’s slow guidance, you manage to seat yourself fully, your thighs now flush against his hips. Carmy traces the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb before letting you take it into his mouth. You suck on it, gathering as much spit as you could muster. Carmy removes it from your mouth and then places it on your clit, where he rubs slow circles as you begin to move your hips. You feel him drag against your walls as you move up nearly off his cock, only to drop yourself back down in a swift motion. You cry out in pleasure, and Carmy groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your hip harshly. You gain a nice pace, bouncing on his length as he meets you in the middle with his thrusts. Carmy speeds up his assault on your clit, his eyes either focusing on yours or your breasts bouncing in his face. He switches it up every few minutes.

“It feels so good to have you back inside me, Carm,” you bite your lip, grasping his shoulders for leverage as you start fucking him even faster.

“Glad to hear it,” Carmy jokes, his voice nearly failing him as your walls clench around him.

He bucks his hips into you a little faster, trying to keep up with you. At this point, your arousal is seeping down your thighs and onto Carmy’s. You hope it doesn’t make its way to our seats, but also, you feel too good to even care. Carmy moves his hand from your hip to grasp your breast, tweaking your already attentive nipple. You hiss at the sensation, rolling your hips in a new pattern, Carmy hitting the perfect spot inside you now. That familiar feeling of warm tightness is forming in your lower belly as your thighs burn from exertion. Carmy feels you growing tighter around him, and he rubs figure eights into your clit, causing you to yelp. You’re now gasping for air as you lose yourself in the feeling of pleasure. Carmy lets go of your breast to hold you down on his lap so he can fuck up into you, your orgasm now teetering on the edge. He hits that spot again, sending you into a wave of bliss. You cum hard around Carmy, the gripping of your cunt crashes him into his own orgasm.

You let out a string of incoherent curses as you ride it out, pleasure rolling throughout your body. You collapse into Carmy’s chest, and he weakly runs his fingers through your hair. You both catch your breath, and you finally pull off of Carmy slowly. Pulling one of the backseats down, you search for a towel or extra hoodie you have in your trunk to clean up with. Finally, an old hoodie of Carmy’s, oddly enough, appears from under the spare tire. You snatch it and wipe up the two of you, and Carmy, of course, has to make a comment about the garment.

“Just be grateful I had it. It can always be washed,” you snort, getting redressed.

The windows are all fogged up now, you realize. So, you climb back into the front seat and turn on the heat. It’s cool outside now, making the inside of the car a little cold now that you’ve come to your senses, and the warmth is welcoming. Carmy gets back into the passenger side after getting his pants pulled back up, taking his shirt from the seat and pulling it over his head. After you both get adjusted and buckled back in, you burst into laughter.

“Some party, huh?” you joke, and Carmy rolls his eyes.

“That dumbass party is the reason we’re here now, so I’d take it as a win.”

“I hate parties.”

“I know you do.”

You both share a longing look before you put the car in gear, “Now, where to?”

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Meet the Characters & Series Masterlist

Status: Begins tomorrow (January 20)!

Pair: Mingyu × f.reader

Summary: Pulling off the "No Strings Attached" arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn't realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Author’s Note: Please take time to read this before starting the series ☺️

Hello, my darlings! Finally getting round to posting this after missing the commited date last time due to covid. But welcome!!! 🥳 This is the first story to my Snap Shoot universe! Before you get into it, let me just point a few things. This is the first time I'm ever creating a universe with interwoven stories, and while I've done SMAUs before, this is the first one I've done for SVT and the first time I'm also this adventurous about it. It's definitely very different from what I post on here but I'm having lots of fun putting it together. I know it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, this is very much a work of fiction. This is an AU. While Korea may be the assumed setting for this series, it is not explicitly defined. I'm also trying to avoid using lots of Korean cultural references (maybe except for food) such as use of honorifics like "hyung". While many of my other works refrain from over-describing oc's physical features, you may find that in this series (and universe), oc's features will inevitably be defined. You'll find that the visuals of the characters and the aesthetic of the photos/social media posts will be Korean/ Asian. It's a SMAU, so i'll have to place photos and these photos must maintain consistent. I absolutely do not mean any ill intention of being non-inclusive (I don't even fit the same aesthetic as oc).

Again, it's a work of fiction, while I want you to relate to oc, kindly also allow me breathing space to build the character. If you feel uncomfortable at any point in the series, you are very much welcome to stop/unfollow. As mentioned, this is a SMAU, but it contains several chapters which are purely written narrations. All edits (texts, social media posts, etc.) were done by me, however some photos (esp those of Y/N) are from the web, if they are yours, please let me know so that I may credit you or remove the photo. The texts are all done on light mode. Deal with it. This follows a FWB trope, expect lots of smut and suggestive content— specific smut warnings will be available in chapters where they are present, along with other necessary warnings. This series will have lots of fluff and lots of crackhead nonsense humor. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Biggest shoutout to my dearest friend @wongyuseokie who has been nothing but supportive through all of this and through all my dramatic Mingy-induced meltdowns. I love you more than you’ll ever know ♥️

Meet the Characters

Mingyu: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, yn/Camie's best friend since childhood

Yn: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography with Mingyu, Mingyu's best friend since childhood. Nicknamed "Camie" by her group of friends for her highly concerning camera collection/obsession.

Seokmin: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, same friend group as mingyu and yn, Mingyu & Wonwoo's housemate

Soonyoung: technically a year older than the 3, but currently a Sophomore with Gyu, Cam and Seokmin after shifting into their major

Wonwoo: Junior, studying Film & Photography as well, Mingyu's guy best friend and housemate in The Man Cave, a brotherly figure to OC, Soonyoung's former classmate in highschool

The Man Cave: shared house near their university where Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin live, and Soonyoung often crashes.

✨Other characters/members will come as the series progresses.

Series Masterlist

To be populated as each chapter is posted. There is no posting schedule. Chapters will just get uploaded as they come.

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five 🔞

Chapter Six 🔞

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Tag List!

@strawberryya @idyllic-ghost @septemberskies @ladyblablabla

If you want to be tagged as each chapter comes out, do send me an ask or reply to this post so I could include you in the tag list 😊

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 2

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

PART 1 is here if you haven't read it

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Darkish!Rafe. Virgin!Reader. Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 8.3k words (Rafe has released the writing beast in me)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So happy you enjoyed the first part.  Here's the second. I thought it would just be just a second part but the more I wrote the story just kept unfolding and I really want to do it justice. (I think part 1 and 2 together is the longest I've written for any fic character) So in order to really get into the angst and it not be too long its going to have to be 3 perhaps 4 parts (not sure yet) Anyway I'm currently writing part 3 so it won't be too long before posting. One thing - there's only one piece of music with this part and I would suggest playing it and leaving it running while you read the rest of the chapter.

Thank you for reading and sticking with the story and if you enjoyed it please reblog. It helps to spread the love.  Much love and take care. ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

The soft glow of your phone, quietly vibrating beside you, nudged you out of your peaceful slumber. Still shrouded in a groggy haze, you instinctively turned away from it. Without even a glance, you knew who the messenger was, and the mere thought that he had sent another text caused a weary sigh to escape your lips.

Rafe's persistent attempts to connect since that unforgettable night had been unrelenting. Ignoring his calls was relatively easy (you had silenced his number), but his text messages proved more difficult to dismiss. Simple words like "Hey," "Hi," and "Talk to me" consistently lit up your phone at all hours, serving as a gentle yet persistent plea for your response—a response you couldn't bring yourself to give, yet somehow couldn't bring yourself to block him outright either. Ultimately, you opted for what seemed the only rational strategy, although in hindsight, it may not have been the wisest: complete avoidance.

But, in truth, none of that mattered. Not when your waking thoughts and dreams were dominated by memories of Rafe, endlessly replaying the night you shared. The feeling of being completely overwhelmed that night, your pleading words that it was all too much, that you needed to stop, were still fresh in your mind. How Rafe merely smiled in response and declared it was only the beginning, sealing his promise with a kiss.

And as he kissed you slow and deep, Rafe was true to his word. His middle finger wormed its way back between your legs. He found your sensitive clit already swollen and slippery with your slick and rubbed the nub in gentle circles in sync with his languid kiss. Slow and steady, minutes ticked by as Rafe dragged out your pleasure, watching you patiently, drawing back his finger whenever he felt you were close, his tongue lazily circling yours, as you both breathed as one. Until finally, finally, he allowed you to cum.

Your body exploded for him, blinding white pleasure saturated your senses leaving you crying and shaking while Rafe whispered soothingly against the shell of your ear "That's a good girl. That's my good girl."

Your unforgettable night with Rafe was unparalleled, surpassing all previous experiences, including those with your first and only boyfriend, Jake. Granted, you had not given Jake the same liberties, but even with the awkward kisses and over-the-clothes groping that marked your brief relationship, Jake had never elicited emotions remotely comparable to what Rafe managed in just one evening. What Rafe stirred effortlessly within you was a different beast entirely — something desperate, needy, and vulnerable. The sensation was so powerful that even three weeks later, it remained, smoldering like a steadfast ember, ready to reignite under the right conditions.

This realization filled you with absolute dread. The sudden understanding that it was Rafe- Rafe Cameron that held the power to shape your desires, ignite unknown cravings, and provoke illicit responses from your body that you couldn't control, was utterly terrifying.

You had often heard tales of girls falling for the proverbial 'bad boy,' forsaking their better judgment for some reckless charmer, and had always scoffed at such narratives. The thought of you succumbing to such feelings or desires was, until recently, beyond the realm of your wildest dreams. It seemed, however, that you were not as immune as you had once believed. All it took was the right—or perhaps, in this case, the wrong—person to stir those latent desires to the surface.

The sheets felt like an unwelcome weighted blanket on your body, pressing you down as you twisted and turned, desperately trying for sleep to come. But it remained stubbornly out of reach. Instead, you found yourself overwhelmed by a flood of polarising emotions.

Chief among them was a sharp sting of shame from that night with Rafe—a shame born from the startling responsiveness of your own body to his, and a gnawing guilt that it was Rafe, of all people, who had elicited such a reaction.

Yet, beneath the layers of guilt and shame, another emotion stirred, one you fervently sought to squash: a thrill of excitement at how utterly alive you felt being dominated by him and the confusing, even more, inescapable undeniable truth—you had loved every single intoxicating minute of it.

In a small town of no more than 7000 souls, you had turned avoiding Rafe into something of an art form. It wasn't difficult, really. Your comfort zones were galaxies away from the crowded, noisy spots that seemed to magnetize him. Bars, clubs, and bonfires weren't your scene anyway.  Your day-to-day orbit included exam prep and college applications, mostly done at the library for a change of scenery, relentless babysitting shifts, and quiet trips to the edges of the out sticks with your cousin to catch crawfish —far from the exclusive circles of Figure 8. 

Life was, if not exactly smooth sailing, at least predictably turbulent. Everything seemed under control, except for one tiny, nagging detail: Rafe. And your near-pathological commitment to avoid him.

On an average day that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rest, you were navigating your way through a series of errands for your dad. The North Carolina sun was blazing overhead casting sharp shadows. As you rounded a corner bathed in this bright, unforgiving light, a figure suddenly materialized. At first, it seemed like a trick of the heat, an illusion stirred up by the sweltering atmosphere. But as your eyes adjusted, recognition dawned. It was Rafe, but he looked... different.

Your gaze drank in the details, lingering over the notable changes—the buzzcut that gave him an even more dangerous edge, the way he stood taller, seeming to tower over the world, the newfound confidence that rolled off him in waves, a palpable energy that dared anyone to challenge him.  But the transformation wasn't just physical. An undercurrent of danger clung to him like a second skin.  He looked like he had seen things. Done bad things.

Reality came rushing back, slamming into you like a tidal wave, you tried to reverse course, turning on your heels to disappear from his line of sight. Yet, your reaction came a second too late. Rafe had spotted you, and maybe if you hadn't just blown most of your cash on groceries, you would've dropped them and run.

Rafe's speed was unrivaled. With just a few long strides, he effortlessly caught up to you. Firmly grasping your arm, he swiftly spun you around to face him, and there, you saw your own reflection in his Ray-Bans. He slid the sunglasses onto his head, revealing his piercing blue eyes. He made no attempt to hide the whirlpool of emotions swirling within them.

"That's not very neighborly of you," he said. His words were clipped and tinged with anger, yet something in his expression softened slightly as he gazed at you. Was it relief? Disappointment? It was difficult to determine, but one thing was clear—his emotions were just as tumultuous as yours.

"I forgot something—"

"Oh, you forgot something?" His grip tightened, decreasing the space between you.

"Yes, from the supermarket—"

"What, the one over there?" he asked, casually gesturing over his shoulder in the opposite direction.

"A different store."

"Right, right. Well, I'll walk you there."

"No! I've changed my mind," you protested, shaking your head. Your feet instinctively shuffled backward as you attempted to free yourself from his grip. His laughter was low and dry, his hold on you tightening.

"I need to go, Rafe. Let me go. I have to get home," you pleaded, desperation edging your voice.

"You heard her, country club. She said 'Let go'." The forceful tug-of-war between you and Rafe abruptly seized as both of you turned to see Barry approaching. You'd never directly interacted with Barry, but tales of his local thuggery and drug dealing were well-known to you. He greeted Rafe with a familiarity that, given Rafe's reputation, was not surprising.

"This doesn't concern you, man. Keep moving," Rafe commanded, his gaze fixed on Barry.

"Well, I did hear her say 'let her go'," Barry remarked, positioning himself beside you.

"Yeah well, she doesn’t know what she wants," Rafe retorted, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he pulled you closer, positioning himself between you and Barry.

"Just let her go, man—"

"Fuck off," Rafe spat.

Unfazed, Barry squinted and leaned in closer. "You realize how this looks, right? Out here in broad daylight?" he warned.

“Keep walking,” Rafe's jaw clenched as he squared off against Barry.

"Do you not realize what you are doing, bro?"

"I said keep walking," Rafe said icily, maintaining eye contact.

An unspoken exchange passed between the two men, concluding with Barry retreating, hands lifted in a gesture of surrender. “Alright then,” he conceded. “You do you, country club. You do you. But don't come crying to me when this shit backfires. I warned your J.Crew lookin' ass.”

After Barry's departure, Rafe scanned the surroundings before returning his focus to you.

"Where's your car?" His question hung heavily in the air as you looked up at him, fear evident in your eyes.

“Hey, I asked you a question,” Rafe's voice softened, his hand gently shaking your arm. “Where's your car?”

"It's...it's not working,” you whispered.

“You walked here?”

You nodded, swallowing hard.

A smirk crept across his lips. "Well, aren't you in luck? I'll give you a ride."

"No, that's... I can walk. I planned to walk—"

"Don't. Don't do that. Don’t act dumb, alright? It's nearly a hundred degrees out. What- you planning on collapsing on the side of the road?" His tone was surprisingly gentle, even as he grabbed the grocery bag from your hands. "Let's not make a mountain out of a molehill, yeah? Barry's already acting like a fool. We don't need a full circus," he stated, heading towards his truck and leaving you with no choice but to trail after him.

Rafe held the door open for you, assisting you as you climbed onto the plush leather seat. After handing you the grocery bag, he closed the door and walked around to the driver's side. In a subtle move to put some distance between the two of you, you placed the grocery bag in the middle.

Rafe started the truck, rolled up the windows, and activated the air conditioning. The truck pulled out of the parking lot, beginning a mostly silent ride.

Apart from the occasional glances Rafe threw your way, the journey remained relatively quiet. He made no attempt to hide his attention, his thumb rhythmically tapping on the steering wheel. The intensity of his gaze was unnerving, and you felt like you were suffocating despite the AC. You couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"You look good..." Rafe stated, punctuating his words with an approving nod. The compliment stirred a flurry of emotions within you, leaving you feeling disoriented. As your heart pounded like a war drum, the silence seemed to morph, becoming dense and strangling.

"Thank you," you muttered trying to fill it. Your gaze firmly on the road ahead.

"How's your dad?" He asked, initiating a light conversation about your dad's well-being. You answered his questions with measured caution, unsure of his intentions. You informed him that your dad was coming home tonight and you intended to cook him a meal since he practically survived on sandwiches during the week in Burnsville. Rafe's thoughtful nods suggested he was listening, but there was an undercurrent of ambiguity that left you uneasy.

"What are you planning on making for him?" he asked with a semblance of innocence.

Your voice wavered as you listed the dishes, each word revealing your growing vulnerability. Anticipating his next move or comment, your heart raced and you braced yourself for what felt like an inevitable confrontation. You kept thinking he'd ask about the unanswered calls, about his ignored messages.

"Wow, you’re a real cook, not just a 'barely-can-boil-water' cook."

“I manage,” you replied.

Rafe hummed in agreement, his thumb still tapping the steering wheel albeit slower; more measured. “You know, Wheeze misses you.”

“I miss her too. How is she?”

“Good. She’s got exams coming up, so she’s been focusing on that. She's also got herself a little girlfriend."

"You seem to approve. Let me guess, Kook?" you asked absentmindedly.

"Nah, Pogue," he corrected, emphasizing the 'P'. "I guess we like what we like, huh?" he said, eyes raking over you.

Silence followed as Rafe steered away from the main road, venturing down an isolated street lined with beech trees. Decaying houses dotted the landscape, separated by wild stretches of tall bluestems and switchgrass.

"You should, you know… come by the house. See her sometime. I know she’d like that."

“Oh- I.. I would but I can't," you stammered, shaking your head "I have college applications to finish. Maybe sometime after."

“Right, right… college... applications... where are you applying?”

"Um… Kildare Community, Piedmont, Sun Valley, Crystal Coast Community--"

"What about Juilliard or Berklee? You applying to any of those?”

His question caught you off guard, and you turned your gaze towards him. Under the sunlight, his handsome profile seemed almost otherworldly.

"I hadn't really given it much thought," you confessed, your voice tinged with uncertainty.

His eyes fixed on yours, curiosity flickering in them. "Why not?"

Your answer was simple, albeit hard to articulate. "I can't afford it," you said with a shrug. Your eyes back on the unfolding road ahead when his gaze became too much.

"Don't they offer scholarships?"

"Yeah, they do. But the competition among applicants would be intense-"

"So? You're talented. Apply." he said matter of factly. "There are folks on the cut dreaming of an escape, with squat to show for it. You? You have options..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head, seemingly lost in thought for a moment. "Don't squander it. Not here and definitely not at some shitty community college."

Taken aback, you struggled to find a response, and it didn't help that you could feel his eyes on you, evaluating your reaction. The remaining ride passed in silence, and by the time he pulled up outside your house, you were more than relieved.

"Thank you, Rafe," you said, quickly reaching for your grocery bag, but Rafe stopped you.

"So, that's it? Just 'thank you, Rafe?'" he asked, his jaw shifting restlessly from side to side, as though words were on the edge of his tongue, fighting to break free.

"Oh— I'm sorry, I should've offered to cover the gas. I don't have much on me, but I can--" Your words were cut short by Rafe shaking his head.

"I don't want your money."

Fear prickled your skin, "Then what—what do you want?" Swallowing nervously, you awaited his response.

Rafe's gaze flitted to your lips then back to your eyes "A kiss." he said.

Your head jerked back, unsure you'd heard him correctly.

"A kiss?" you echoed, attempting to digest his sudden proposal.

"Yeah, just a kiss," he replied. His voice was so steady, so devoid of emotion, it was as if he was merely commenting on the weather or asking if you had the time.

Your query rang out once more, uncertainty creeping into your voice, "A kiss?"

"Just one. One kiss and we call it even." Rafe's lean-in was deliberate, his index finger lightly grazing your jaw, igniting a trail of warmth along your skin and unsubconsciously you leaned into it.

"A kiss," you whispered back, your eyes locked onto his. Perhaps you didn't want things to escalate into a fight, but maybe, just maybe, a part of you wanted to kiss him. Taking a breath to steel yourself, you leaned in, brushing a swift kiss against his cheek. Almost instinctively, his lips followed, seeking yours.

"That's, that's not a kiss," Rafe breathed, his eyes growing progressively darker with each word he spoke.

Gently, Rafe curled his fingers around the back of your neck, drawing you closer. His attention was solely focused on your lips. As if under a spell, you relented, delivering a brief, innocent kiss onto his lips. But just as you began to pull away, Rafe halted you, his fingers remaining intertwined at the nape of your neck.

"Nah, that doesn't count."

"I kissed you, Rafe—" you began, your voice trembling.

"No, no. You owe me a real kiss for all the unanswered texts and the missed calls..." His words triggered a surge of panic within you and you tried to pull away, but Rafe held you firm, his gaze burning into your own. "I was worried about you. Did you know that?" he asked, his eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"We had fun. I made you feel good and then you just...." He paused, collecting his thoughts, his eyes darting between your lips and your startled expression. "I thought something had happened to you. But then, I woke the fuck up and realised you were safe - you just ghosted me. You know, I even contemplated driving over to your house? But I knew your dad wouldn't appreciate that. I thought I might never see you again, and then...there you were."

Rafe's words gushed forth like a sudden revelation. "There you were, shopping for groceries to cook for your dad, playing the dutiful daughter, blissfully content in your little world, while mine was hell." He spat out the words with venom, his fingers tensing at the nape of your neck, pulling you so close that his lips were mere millimeters from yours. His eyes, swirling with turmoil, locked intensely onto your eyes, which were now brimming with unshed tears.

"So, while I'm relieved you're okay," he started, his lips curving into a slight pout as he painstakingly enunciated each word, "You owe me. You owe me for thinking about you. You owe me for worrying about you. Now, open your mouth."

"Rafe," you whispered, tears beginning to cascade down your cheeks.

"I said, open. Your. Mouth." His voice hardened, his command leaving no room for doubt.

Your broken sob was all it took for Rafe to swoop in, kissing you passionately. His tongue probed the depths of your mouth, and you willingly complied, feeling the unmistakable force in his movements - raw, desperate, determined.

With each passing moment, Rafe deepened the kiss, leaning into you even further. He poured in his passion, demanding that you returned it with equal intensity, leaving your head spinning and your heart aching. The sheer intensity of the moment left you gasping for breath, and as Rafe's lips left yours to press desperate, kisses against your cheek and down the column of your throat you felt like you couldn't breathe at all.

"Please, I have to go, I have to," you managed to muster, pulling his fingers away and pushing him back. With a surge of determination, you grabbed your grocery bag and yanked on the passenger door, only for Rafe to swiftly reach over and slam it shut.

You turned to face him, struggling to catch your breath and see him through your teary haze. Rafe's face portrayed a picture of calm, cold calculation, with only the harsh puffs of air escaping his lips marring that composure. "You're making this difficult," he uttered, his voice echoing the icy chill of his demeanor. "It doesn't have to be."

Rafe relinquished his hold on the door, and you seized the opportunity, yanking it open. You nearly lost your balance in the process but managed to catch yourself just in time. Without daring to look back, you bolted towards your porch. Only when you heard the grating sound of his truck pulling away and tires screeching against the gravel did you risk a glance back.

The rhythmic splash of water against the wooden planks of the dinghy was the only sound as you and your cousin worked in tandem, freeing the crawfish from their nets and emptying them into plastic buckets filled with fresh water.

The usual serene ambiance of your shared task was disrupted by the thickening tension in the air, both from the approaching storm and from the heavy silence your cousin seemed eager to shatter.

"You know," she began, her voice deliberately casual, "Konnie's been running her mouth again."

You looked up from the net you were shaking above the bucket of cold water, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, yeah? What crazy story has she cooked up this time?"

She hesitated, then said with faux nonchalance, "Something about seeing Rafe with a girl yesterday. Says she looked a lot like you."

"What?" You froze mid-shake, a flicker of surprise crossing your face.

"Wild, right?”

Forcing a laugh, you attempted to balance surprise with casual dismissal. "Konnie's always been good at making stuff up."

She glanced sharply at you, her gaze assessing. "It's not ‘making stuff up’ if Barry was there to corroborate it."

The weight of the revelation pulled at your focus.

“This sounds like something out of a K-drama," you whispered, your focus back on your trap.

"Isn't it just? Our Kook King looking down on half the town like we're nothing but shit beneath his shoes, is with a Pogue. An actual born and bred Pogue. I don’t know if that’s rich in irony or if it makes him a hypocrite?" She laughed bitterly.

"Both, probably, if it were true. But it’s not.”

She nodded slowly. "Right well, Konnie said Barry tried to stop Rafe from making a scene. Why would Rafe be making a scene?” she asked, her eyes locked onto you.

Your fingers tightened around the net, your heart beating in your throat. "I don't know. It's the outer banks. People talk. They get things wrong and--"

She sighed, leaning closer. "Is there something going on between you and Rafe?”

“No, there isn't—"

“Because if there is, I need to know. Like, are you sleeping with him-“

“No!”

“Then are you dating him?”

“No- it’s not like that." You said shaking your head profusely.

"Then what's it like?"

"I babysit his sister you know that—" you faltered under your cousin's intense gaze. "He just happened to be in town when I was grocery shopping and he gave me a ride home. Nothing happened.”

Your cousin gave out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "A minute ago you were acting like it was some baseless rumour—”

"Because you were freaking me out! What else was I supposed to say? You just came at me with a bunch of questions like I did something wrong" You said, your face hot.

You couldn’t help but notice your cousin’s frustrated sigh.

“Look, I’ve got your back, regardless of whatever is going on here. And I can’t tell you how to live your life, that's for you to decide. But, Rafe-- Rafe is not the type of guy you want to be involved with in any capacity. I thought you knew that.” The distant growl of thunder underscored the urgency of her words.

“I do, and I’m not,” you said, licking your lips.

“Good. Because Rafe would never risk being seen in public with a Pogue, let alone put his reputation on the line for one. If you get involved with him, you'll be the one who ends up getting hurt."

"I know," you murmured in agreement.

She nodded and looked up at the darkening sky. "Good. Just making sure we're on the same page is all."

"We are," You nodded, barely able to meet her eyes. "We should hurry," you said quietly. "A storm's coming."

During the subsequent week, Rafe had surfaced in your life more times than in the previous three weeks of no contact. Initially, you brushed it off as mere coincidence. You saw him at the market, then again at the docks, immersed in intense conversation with his friends, and once again at the wreck when you went to pick up food. Each encounter was brief, like an encounter with a spectre and each time you slipped away, thankfully, unseen.

With your heart hammering in your chest, you assured yourself that he wasn't intentionally seeking you out. You dismissed these run-ins as sheer coincidence. That's what you convinced yourself, at least.

Until the Library.

Your heart stuttered as you spotted him through the double doors just as you were about to exit. There he was, nonchalantly leaning against his truck, eyes concealed behind Ray-Bans and his arms folded.

Despite the casual stance, his presence radiated terrifying, intimidating energy. His posture, his unwavering gaze, his patient vigil - it all pointed towards one intention. It felt like you had been doused with cold water when realization struck-

Rafe was waiting.

For you.

Two choices lay before you. Either you could escape through the back door or find a window to climb out of. But deep down, you knew these would only delay the inevitable. It was time to confront the situation. Harnessing every ounce of courage, you resolved to put an end to this.

Usually, you'd carry only a handful of books, but today you had filled your tote. The thought of smacking Rafe in the head with it seemed like a good option. Adjusting the strap on your shoulder and gripping the bag firmly, you pulled the brass handle, flung open the door, and strode down the library’s stone steps, your chin lifted high.

A grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat split Rafe's face, his teeth flashing with amusement as he watched you. But you didn't give him the satisfaction of acknowledging his presence. You breezed past him, leaving him behind in your determined stride.

Not long after, Rafe slipped into his truck and drove alongside you, his arm hanging out of the window, eyes flicking between you and the road.

"It's gonna rain, you know." he said. His voice, smooth as silk, echoed around you. You kept walking, acting as if his words had fallen on deaf ears, yet they hung ominously in the air.

"It's gonna rain, you know," Rafe repeated, amusement tingeing his tone.

"I heard you the first time," you snapped, your voice sharper than you had intended.

Rafe whistled in surprise. His grin only widened, “Come on, don't be like that. Get in. I'll give you a ride."

You faltered for a moment at his offer, but quickly regained your stride. "I don't need anything from you, Rafe."

"Sure about that?" He drawled, his truck moving at the same steady pace as you.

The thrum of your heartbeat in your ears underscored your steely resolve, refusing to meet his gaze. The truck's engine growled ominously at your side.

"You know, a ride with me wouldn't be so bad. In fact, you might enjoy it”

"I'd rather get hit by lightning," you fired back, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead.

Rafe removed his sunglasses and lightly tossed them on the dash. His silence was heavy, bearing witness to your defiance before his voice returned, a touch of impatience coating his words. "So how much longer are you planning to keep this up?"

“What do you mean? Keeping what up?”

“Running...pretending like you don’t give a shit—”

"Who said anything about running? I'm walking away. There's a difference."

"Oh, is that what this is? Right. Right." He drawled, the truck maintaining its constant presence by your side. "Well, it looks more like running to me."

"You can think whatever you want, Rafe. I really don’t care" Your words were as icy as a protective shield, distancing you from his unnerving scrutiny.

"You know," he spoke after another pause, his voice melting into a softer, intimate cadence, "You'd think I'd be bored by now but nah, I like these little interactions of ours. I look forward to them, actually…”

"Don't," you managed to whisper.

"Don't what?" He questioned, feigned innocence in his tone. You could hear the smirk in his voice, a symbol of triumph despite your rebuffs.

"Just leave me alone, Rafe."

"You know I can't do that," he declared with unshakeable certainty.

"Why not?" You shot back, halting to confront him and Rafe hit the brakes. As you turned to face him, the first drops of rain began to fall, soaking your skin and hair. You surrendered to the sensation, letting the rain blur your surroundings into an indistinct haze. "Why can't you just leave me alone?"

A fleeting wave of vulnerability crossed Rafe's face, causing his confident smile to momentarily falter. "You know why..." He began, licking his lips, as if the weight of his next words were a challenge to articulate.

"No, I don’t. Aren't there plenty of Kooks you should be chasing after? Isn't that supposed to be your speed, anyway?" Your voice was laced with a mix of frustration and genuine curiosity.

He exhaled slowly, his eyes unwavering, locked onto yours. "Okay, you want me to spell it out? Fine." Leaning in just slightly, ensuring every word landed with intent, he said, "I like you, yeah? Not some Kook or a Touron. You." And then, softer, almost a whisper against the backdrop of the rain, "You know I do." The quiet intensity of his affirmation sent shivers down your spine. It was a truth both of you had danced around, a truth as terrifying as it was undeniable. Time seemed to stretch in that moment, punctuated only by the drumming rain and the frantic pace of your heart.

You swallowed hard, battling the storm of emotions threatening to spill out. "Well, you have a peculiar way of showing it," you managed to say, your voice quivering with a mix of vulnerability and defiance. His unexpected honesty had pulled the rug out from under your feet, leaving you reeling. "You've been stalking me, trying to intimidate me, forcing me to do things I don't want to--"

"Forcing you?" Rafe’s gaze hardened as he studied your face. "Forcing you? I’m forcing you?”

“Yes, Rafe. Forcing me,” you protested, the words tinged with desperation, a last-ditch attempt to create distance between you two.

Rafe chuckled under his breath as he shook his head. “I'm forcing you, but you came harder than you've ever done in your entire life just from my fingers. I'm forcing you, but you came so many times you could barely remember your own name--"

"I never wanted any of that! I didn't ask for any of that—" You tried to reason only for Rafe to silence you with a frustrated roar, his hand banging on the steering wheel.

"Get in the fucking truck!!"

"No!" you laughed shakily “No. in fact, I'm perfectly fine. Right. Here." you declared defiantly, tilting your head back to let the rain wash over you. A temporary respite came with your eyes squeezed shut. When you dared to open them again, Rafe was still there, an unwavering, persistent figure.

With another heavy sigh, Rafe surrendered. "Alright." he nodded bitterly "Alright, You're really gonna make me do this, huh?"

"Do what?" you retorted, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Before you could decipher his next move, Rafe abruptly killed the engine, flung open the door and stepped out into the torrential downpour. The heavens seemed intent on soaking him through. Droplets of rain lashed down, darkening his shirt until it clung to his chiseled torso, revealing the muscular contours beneath.

"What the fuck," you whispered under your breath, your heart racing from his unexpected action. There he stood, defiant against the torrential rain, every drop sliding down his chiseled features, his piercing eyes never wavering from yours.

Time seemed to stand still until, driven by some invisible force, Rafe lunged forward pulling you into his embrace, his lips fiercely meeting yours.

His lips was soft. Not demanding and you found yourself responding instinctively. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as your hands moved to grip the wet fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. You could taste the rain on his lips, mingled with the hint of sweetness from the soda he had been drinking earlier. The world disappeared.

There was only him.

The kiss deepened, Rafe's hand moved to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your rain-soaked hair, while his other arm snaked around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. His touch sent a shiver of anticipation running down your spine, setting your nerves alight. The rain beating down on you both seemed to fade into the background, drowned out by the thunderous pounding of your heart.

His lips moved with a fervor that left you breathless, each stroke of his tongue against yours an echo of the underlying passion and yearning that had been simmering beneath the surface. Every sensation, every emotion was amplified tenfold in the shared intimacy of the kiss. You surrendered completely to the moment, losing yourself in the touch of his skin, the strength of his hold, and the intoxicating taste of his lips.

Eventually, the kiss slowed, the initial fervor simmering into something softer, sweeter. Rafe broke away, his breath shaky. His eyes held yours captive, and a flush crept onto his face. His fingers traced a path down your cheek, before he finally stepped back.

"We can do this two ways," Rafe murmured over the steady patter of rain on the truck's roof. Pure mischief danced in his eyes as he stated, "I can drag you kicking and screaming and trust me, I’ll enjoy every minute of it, or you can walk and get in on your own. But either way - you're getting in the truck. Your call."

Wordlessly, you pivoted and moved towards the truck, your boots crunching against the rain-dampened gravel.

"That's what I thought," Rafe replied, a victorious grin splitting his rain-speckled face as he caught your fleeting glare. Unruffled, he stretched out his hand, popping open the weather-beaten door with a familiar creak lost in the drumming rain. His hand was warm and steady as he helped you up into the seat, the fabric of your clothes already beginning to stick to the leather.

In one fluid movement, Rafe navigated around the truck, momentarily swallowed by the spray of the falling rain before reappearing on the driver's side. With a clunk, the door closed behind him, sealing out the chill and sound of the heavy rain. His wrist flicked, the ignition turning over and the engine’s steady rumble intertwining with the rhythmic tapping of raindrops on the roof.

Leaning over the seat, Rafe's momentarily searched around the back. When he reappeared, he held a well-used, grey fleece jacket, its fabric softened by countless washes.

"Here," he offered, his voice barely louder than the muted patter of the rain against the windows. He extended it towards you, his fingers brushing against yours in exchange.

"Thank you," you replied, accepting the jacket. The fleece was surprisingly warm, a welcome contrast to the chill spreading through your rain-soaked clothes.

Rafe maneuvered the truck through the storm your house barely discernible in the relentless deluge. He parked close to your porch, an unspoken gesture to spare you from the worst of the rain. When he switched off the engine, the absence of its rumble made the cab feel suddenly small. The silence that enveloped you both was thick, charged with unsaid words and emotions neither of you didn't know how to share.

Rafe turned to face you, the dim glow from the dashboard lights casting a soft luminescence on his features. Rain droplets traced shimmering paths down his face, catching on his eyelashes and hanging at the tips. His gaze held yours, searching, longing, a question lingering in his eyes.

Swallowing hard, you broke the silence. "Want to come in?" The words hung in the air, tender and tentative. "Maybe dry off a little before hitting the road?"

"Make yourself at home" you said.

With a click, you turned on the side lamp, illuminating the cozy sitting room in a warm glow. You excused yourself, leaving Rafe momentarily to fetch some things for him. From the hallway closet, you grabbed a clean towel, and after a brief rummage through your dad's wardrobe, you found a red plaid shirt that might fit him. Deciding to change yourself, you quickly slipped into a comfortable, loose faded shirt and denim shorts.

Upon your return, you found Rafe intently examining the family photos that adorned your walls. The captured moments were a mix of joyful events and everyday life: you proudly holding up your first caught fish, a close-up with you and a school friend age seven with your front teeth missing, an affectionate snapshot of your parents in a tender embrace, and a cherished image of baby you, seated on your dad's lap at the piano. Each photo was a silent testament to days that were simpler, happier.

Rafe, towering in your small living room, shifted his gaze to the old piano settled in one corner. The instrument, though aged, held a simple grace.

“It’s not as grand as the one at your place,” you remarked gently, catching his attention. As his gaze shifted to you, there was a perceptible pause as his eyes traveled down to your legs and then resettled on your face.

"But it still has its charm, right?"

“I guess,” you shrugged, closing the distance between you two and handing him the towel and shirt.

Your fingers brushed with the exchange, sending a thrill through you. With a grateful nod, Rafe dried his head and face. He began to unbutton his shirt, pulling the wet fabric from his slacks, peeling it off his body. As he revealed inch after inch of lean muscle and beautifully tanned, unmarked skin, you couldn't help but admire the flawless appearance—a testament to his privileged Kook life.

“Can't take your eyes off, can you? Want a guided tour?” He teased.

“Dream on, Cameron,” you shot back, attempting to sound casual, but the playful glint in his eyes suggested he knew exactly the effect he was having on you. The sound of his confident chuckle filled the room with warmth.

“How long have you had it?” he inquired, head tilting towards the piano.

“You mean Betsy?”

Rafe smiled “It has a name?”

“Of course. We've had her as long as I can remember. My dad got her before I was born. She’s older than I am,” you confessed with a fond smile.

"Go on, play for me," Rafe murmured, the timbre of his voice making it feel less like a request and more like an intimate invite.

The memory of the last time you played for him, and what had ensued, made you take a deep breath. But you shook off the feeling, reminding yourself that your bench was, luckily, a one-seater. "I'll play," you said with a small smile, "but you've got to promise to behave."

Rafe chuckled, leaning back on the couch, wearing your dad's shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. His smirk was wicked and teasing, the very embodiment of temptation itself. "No promises."

Rolling your eyes. You took a seat on the bench and began to play, allowing the music to flow through your fingers. Each note resonated with the room, reflecting the myriad emotions swirling within you. The gentle glow of the room's lighting seemed to dance in tune with the melody, casting warm and shifting shadows. The scent of the rain outside mingled with the familiar smells of your home, creating an atmosphere of nostalgia and present moments intertwining. As the final note lingered in the air, caressing the silence that followed, you turned to find Rafe's gaze fixed intently on you. His eyes, laden with intensity and yearning.

“Come here,” he said softly, his voice filled with something deeper, something unspoken. He leaned back against the sofa, extending his hand to you.

With a deep breath, and a flutter in your chest, you walked towards him, finally straddling him, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath you, knowing that this moment was a milestone, a turning point in whatever it was that was unfolding between you two.

Rafe's fingers delicately trailed along your thighs, taking in every curve and contour. He lingered for a moment on a mole on your left leg, brushing his thumb over its slightly elevated surface. Every touch ignited a fire on your skin, an intimate dance of warmth and desire. As his hands continued their exploration, they ascended up your sides and Rafe sat up.

Suddenly his hands wrapped around your neck, tipping your head back with a possessiveness that made you gasp. The raw strength in his grip was undeniable; he held the power to hurt you. But somewhere deep down, amidst the swirling mix of emotions, you felt an unwavering trust that he wouldn't.

With your head tilted back, you found yourself drowning in Rafe's gaze. He examined your features, delicately turning your face this way and that, softly illuminated by the nearby lamp. Every aspect of your countenance seemed to fascinate him, but it was his own features — the small scar above his right eyebrow, the striking high cheekbones, thick lashes, and those mesmerizing blue eyes — that captivated you in return. When those very eyes briefly lingered on your lips, and his thumb gently brushed against them a sharp inhale caught in your throat.

"So fuckin' pretty," Rafe breathed, the weight of his words heavy in the brief silence that followed. Then, with an urgency that stole your breath away, he captured your lips with his. His kiss was both tender and powerful, a dance of tongues and unspoken passion.

His hands moved from your neck, sliding beneath your shirt finally touching bare skin to wrap around you. The world seemed to tilt as he expertly turned, positioning you beneath him without breaking the kiss.

Rafe's fingers found the buttons of your shirt. Each one he undid was like unwrapping a gift, each sliver of exposed skin driving him further into a fervor kissing you deeper until he pulled away from your lips altogether to look down and savour your breasts.

“I knew it…” he whispered “You’re gorgeous...” and wasted no time in swirling his tongue around your pert nipple before sucking it into his mouth. His other hand kneading the tender flesh of your other breast oh so softly.

Rafe's touch sent waves of electricity coursing through your body, each sensation igniting the desire between your thighs. With every gentle tug, every teasing bite, you surrendered to your longing, your moans a symphony of need. While dampness formed at your core, evidence of your escalating arousal.

Leaving your nipple, his lips sought your cheek, his fingers deftly finding the button of your shorts, effortlessly undoing it. "I couldn't stop thinking about the way you squirted for me." he smiled, his voice a soft murmur in your ear.

"Ugh- Rafe, don't-" You couldn't help but groan, your hands instinctively covering your face in a mix of bashfulness and embarrassment.

"Come on, babe don't hide from me now," he urged, gently moving your hands away from your face. His unwavering gaze bore into you, with a magnetic intensity that held you captive. "It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen," he continued, his words wrapping around you like a sensual embrace. You responded with a mix of eye-rolling and a self-conscious laugh, but Rafe's touch on your jaw stilled your reaction.

"I'm serious," he insisted, his eyes locked onto yours. "Watching you moan for me all desperate and sweet. Feeling your pretty little pussy swallow my fingers... and then knowing I made you feel so fucking good you couldn't help but squirt…” Rafe groaned, his eyes rolling back at the memory “Baby, I jerked off to the thought so many times I'm surprised my dick hasn't fallen off." he chuckled. "All I could think about these last few weeks was watching you cum. I wanna watch you cum." Rafe's words were a soft murmur, his unwavering gaze locked onto yours.

Adjusting his position slightly, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your jeans shorts, a deliberate slowness in his movements as he eased them down your body. His breath quickened, his eyes devouring the sight of you in your white panties, damp with the evidence of your arousal.

Moistening his lips, he carefully tugged down your panties, guiding your legs free from their confines. He stared at your pussy taking his fill.

"Pretty as a picture," he whispered. Settling in beside you, he rested his head on his palm, his gaze fixed upon you. "I want to watch you cum, but this time..." Rafe tenderly parted your legs, cradling your knees and exposing you fully to the room's golden light. "This time, I want to see everything," he murmured.

His fingers traced the contours of your mound, the subtle hills and valleys of your skin. A light dusting of pubic hair added to the texture he was exploring. There, at your slit, a glistening collection of your arousal had formed. With a gentle touch, he collected a bead of it on his fingertip, his eyes locked onto your face. Bringing his finger to his lips, he sensually tasted you, an intense hunger gleaming in his gaze.

"I’ll need to eat this pussy too..." he murmured, nodding as if confirming an important task on his list of things to do. "But let's take it one step at a time, yeah? Don't want you running away from me anytime soon." His words held a trace of humor, a playful acknowledgment of the strained heated desires between you two. You were about to chastise him but his lips captured yours in a hungry kiss. While your mouths entwined, Rafe's finger moved back to your clit, his gentle movements coaxing a moan from your lips.

Just as you were sinking into his heavenly touch, Rafe broke the kiss and gently pulled his finger away from your clit. The absence of his touch almost prompted a whine from you, but Rafe quickly quieted you with a gentle shush. With a practiced finesse that revealed a glimpse of his dexterity, he employed his teeth to deftly remove the signet ring that encircled his finger. The ring glided off smoothly, lingering briefly within his mouth before finding its place in his pants pocket. His voice, laced with desire, broke the silence in a husky murmur, "Can’t go deep with a ring in the way, can we?” With deliberate intent, he returned his two fingers between your folds and wormed them inside you.

"Oh god, oh shit-" The fabric of Rafe's (or rather, your dad’s) shirt twisted beneath the force of your grip, your fingers curling and clenching as a flood of both pleasure and pain surged through your core. He was not lying when he said he was going to go deep.

Admitting comfort at this moment wouldn't be honest, not with the way his fingers were delving inside you, pushing against your tight channel. The fine line between discomfort and pleasure was being treaded, a line that teased just on the cusp of crossing into one or the other. Strangely, there was an undeniable allure in feeling so exquisitely full and it dawned on you that even with the mingling pain you liked being full.

With a mix of awe and submission, you embraced the realization that this was indeed what your body was designed for—an intricate dance of taking and being taken. The recognition of your body's innate capacity to accept him, to welcome him so completely, was a mesmerizing revelation that you couldn't help but marvel at.

As your gaze drifted downward, you couldn't help but raise an intrigued eyebrow at the sight that greeted you. His long, skillful fingers moved sinfully, withdrawing and reentering, each motion leaving them glistening with the evidence of your arousal. The sight and sound was hypnotic, and as a drawn-out moan escaped your lips, you couldn't help but notice Rafe's gaze following suit, his own reaction mirrored in the form of a needy groan.

"God, look at you. Taking it all the way to my palm... making a pretty mess." he quipped, his voice trembling with desire as a shaky chuckle escaped him. "Does it hurt?"

You gasped in response, the honesty ringing true in your voice, "A little."

A low, almost guttural groan escaped Rafe's lips, his tongue darting out to moisten his suddenly dry lips. "Yeah, but you like it, don't you? That slight twinge of pain. Hurts good, doesn't it?"

A slow, almost reverent nod escaped you as your eyes rolled backward, caught in the riptide of sensation. Your hand joined Rafe's at his wrist, a desperate yearning to connect more deeply with the source of your pleasure and the exquisite ache that accompanied it. You craved the sensation of his every stroke, each movement a testament to his mastery over your desire. Your hips began to sway, an instinctual response, seeking more friction, a little extra pressure to tip the scale just a bit further into pleasure. When you started to pluck and gently pull on your nipple you had finally reached it.

"Shit. That's it. Take what you need, baby.” He whispered. His tongue made its way back to your other nipple sucking on the tender flesh while he stared up at you. His gentle tongue swirling and firm hard fingers relentlessly drilling and your own hand gently plucking had you seeing stars and then some. You could feel his cock, thick and stiff brushing against your side as he rutted slowly against you seeking friction and for the first time you began to whine in sheer desperation, wishing he had fucked you with his cock instead.

"Use your words, baby," Rafe's voice held an almost teasing quality. "I want to know how good it feels—for next time when you accuse me of forcing you..."

You should have been mad, outraged even, by his audacity. But there was a magnetic pull in his words, a spell that rendered your protests powerless against the tide of pleasure that had you firmly in its grasp. The chorus of moans that spilled from your lips was a testament to your surrender "Don't stop- feels so good. Oh god, ‘m close. So close. Please Rafe-- please.. please... please.." Your words quivered with a mixture of urgency and need, punctuated by the ragged rhythm of your breath as your body shook.

As if on cue, Rafe applied a cork-screw motion, his fingers expertly stroking your G-spot with fervor. Your orgasm surged forth, violent and all-consuming. Waves of ecstacy coursed through your body, compelling your abdomen to convulse, and your leg to kick, a response to Rafe speeding up his efforts, fingers plunging deep while his thumb orchestrated rapid blissful circles on your clit.

"OH, FUCK-- OH RAFE!!!" Your voice filled the room as you were swept away in the throes of your orgasm. You couldn’t help but soak his fingers, and like a breached dam, overflowing and cascading, so too did your juices overflow as it trickled down to the cleft of your ass.

"Fuck—" Rafe hissed, his voice strained. "Ah, shit!" he sneered through clenched teeth. Overwhelmed at the sight, feel and sound of you screaming his name, his hips involuntarily jerked as he came. An untouched release that left him gasping for breath. His moans blended with yours, a beautiful song of shared pleasure that only ended when he leaned in for a messy kiss.

His gaze never wavered; it feasted on every second of your reaction and revelled in the glorious aftermath. You were glowing, skin flushed and alive from the intensity of your climax. Your chest rose and fell rapidly, sweat glistening off of your exposed breasts. Legs still spread, revealing the slippery mess with his fingers buried deep in you.

If you weren't so strung out from your orgasm, the opportunity to catch a glimpse of something more in his expression might have presented itself. A fleeting flicker of his unwavering fixation taking root, a mere hint of the deeper obsession he harbored for you. But instead your eyes closed, your lips forming a satisfied, lopsided grin. You couldn’t think. In fact, you couldn't care about anything at all.

Feedback is always appreciated. Lots of love until next time and thanks for reading.

UPDATES - PART 3 / MASTERLIST

[haliteatiger]

Happy Werewolf Wednesday, ya'll! We're serving up a big pot of tea tonight so get those cups ready!

Special thanks to Blackbackedjackal and King for their help in putting this together, editing, and especially to Jackal for being so supportive and encouraging. I'm very much not normally the type to do call-out posts, but people need to be aware of Dogblud, as she has hurt, not only myself, but quite a few others as well, and seems to have somehow gotten away with behaving like this for 20-odd years. I'm of the mind she shouldn't be allowed to do so any more, hence this post.

TL;DR - Beware of Dogblud, aka Ashryn, aka DogofBlud, aka ThatDogMagic. Very, very long post under the cut.

With everything happening with DogBlud and Blackbackedjackal's studio, I felt emboldened to come forward with my own experiences with her. This is something I've been carrying around since it happened roughly 2 years ago. It was one of the main reasons that put me off drawing werewolves, my own characters, or engaging any more in the fandom. I've hinted at it a few times but I've never had the energy to come forward and deal with the fall out. I wanted to move on with the rest of my life because IRL was more important than online drama. And I knew her behavior would come back to bite her sooner or later, regardless of what I did. 

It's been very validating to see that I was right.

It was around the time that Blud and I became friends that I was feeling a bit burnt out on werewolves. I'd been trying to pull together my own werewolf-related project for something close to 12 years. The past 4 years had also been pretty draining on me creatively and socially, as it had for a lot of artists with regards to the pandemic. I also had some IRL things I was dealing with: mainly with my marriage and transitioning between medications to manage my anxiety + bipolar.

Unfortunately, I didn't have the foresight to screenshot everything at the time. I do have logs from back when we roleplayed together. There are several conversations in them but because they were saved as text documents, they're pretty dubious in terms of solid evidence. 

It would have been better if I had taken screenshots as it was happening, rather than just saving the logs. With what I *do* have, however, I feel as though it may be enough to make the point that I'm trying to make, and to exhibit how horrible things got.

I'll provide some context.

I had talked with Blud on and off over the years, and we had always gotten along. We had a lot in common and after we had started talking more, our friendship eventually grew into a collaborative project. We were going to combine our stories and write a comic based on it. We had a lot of discussions on how Blud was reticent to do this in the beginning and how she wanted a contract to be made up so that in the event that something *did* happen, we could both walk away feeling like it was handled fairly.

Honestly, I should have listened to the first alarm that went off in my brain, when, in an act of ominous foreboding she said something along the lines of don't be so sure, it could happen. It was in response to me being like "we're getting along so well and share so much of a bond right now. I can't fathom that being a problem!" 

The contract never materialized. It was something we had decided to do *after* we had put together something of a prototype project to see how well we worked together. It made complete sense to me at the time as we were both eager to focus on the fun parts of writing and drawing together.

It was decided that I would be the lead artist (doing coloring and final lines) while Blud would do everything else (which was inking, layouts, and the majority of the writing). The both of us felt that she had more experience in those areas. I also believed that she had a better knack for it as well. I had felt that she had a better understanding of story structure than myself. And I thought that Blud had felt the same way about my art. That I had the experience to take point on that. 

Since I had collaborated with other artists and writers before, I attempted to approach the project with the same sort of professionalism I always do. Especially the projects that I genuinely thought stood a chance of being published in the future. We had started out trying to get a feel for each other's flows and rhythms. I had expected Blud to try and meet me in the middle of where our processes would potentially differ from one another, so that we could develop a fairly smooth workflow.

I had also expected, according to our discussions on the matter, that we would value each other's opinions on things and take them into consideration. We had such good synchronicity already.

In the beginning, there wasn't any unusual behavior that caught my attention. Blud was a bit uncomfortable with trying out new things but I did my best to accommodate her so that our project could move forward without too much turbulence. She had also mentioned to me before that she was autistic, and since my husband is also autistic, I knew how difficult it could be when it came to adapting to new routines. But when it was time for her to deliver the first set of layouts, it wasn't at all what I expected.

What I had expected was something with margins, clearly marked boxes, and figures that I could do rough lines over. I also expected notes that confirmed what we had discussed earlier about the project; that way I knew what she wanted or if there would be any changes. She took offense to this, feeling like I was violating our agreement. Though Blud did try to give me space with regards to the actual art, and while she would offer criticisms here and there, I trusted her opinion as an artist and as a friend. But apparently that didn't go both ways. In fact, Blud seemed to be offended that I expected more from her.

Blud agreed to concede. She suddenly seemed fine with the changes that I had asked for after seeing the layouts. I guess she was feeling overstimulated by the change and I might have been applying too much of a critical tone to her responses to begin with. I have had to deal with rejection sensitivity throughout my life and it's certainly prompted me to approach what people say to me online with a bit of scrutiny (sometimes too much).

And while I was mildly annoyed, although admittedly I was more concerned with Blud's overall reaction to my asking for clarification about several things in the layouts, I let it go. But it seemed like there was a problem. The majority of my ideas were either rejected or outright overridden with Blud convincing me that my faulty memory had made me unable to remember what we had agreed upon. Or that I might have been misremembering in my own favor.

There was one time where we were discussing a monster's design. Blud had already decided to settle on one design that she had come up with, even as I continued to offer other suggestions. The story was to take place in my setting, so I was under the impression that I got to decide what kind of creatures should populate it. The conversation ended somewhat ambiguously. I had assumed that we'd come to a solid conclusion later. 

I came back the next day and it turned out that we were using her design because that was what we had decided on. "Don't you remember? You really need to do something about that faulty memory of yours, Tek. I can't be doing this for you all the time."

At which point, Blud would go back and meticulously scour the conversation until she managed to find a set of lines that would make it seem as though I had 100% agreed. Even when I tried to explain that I had meant something else, she took it as an affront on her inability to understand nuances due to her autism.

I admit that my memory isn't that greatest at times, but I've never had anyone complain about it before. And none of my friends have ever minded providing reminders to me if I did misremember something incorrectly. We all forget stuff at times, right? It's *still* something that I'm self-conscious about because (like a lot of people with ADHD) my memory seems selective at times. This was, apparently, a problem that I needed to manage. 

And even as I'm remembering these incidents to the best of my ability, I've already spent so much time recounting all of this to friends. I feel confident in my recollection. There are some details that may overlap or become entwined with other things, but it all basically tells the same story. Especially in conjunction with what's been said by others. You're free to take it as hearsay since I do not have screenshots to back this up.

I will mention (since I've been told it's something that Blud has taken particular interest in) that at one point, I did have a crush on her. I was having some problems IRL, and it was nice to have someone whom I felt actually understood me. I also felt like I saw a lot of myself in her. I think that, at one point, I did describe her as the kind of "girlfriend" I would want. Blud seemed to indicate the feeling was mutual.

Between our collaborative partnership and all of the details we shared about our lives, it did feel like an intimate relationship at times. I had no intentions of pursuing it. We were not compatible in our romantic and sexual identities, and I had no intention of leaving my current partner for her.

I had begun to notice red flags, even if I wasn't ready to accept them yet.

I've had experience with abusive relationships in the past but they were in person, and not online. I knew what to look out for and yet I was being willfully ignorant about our friendship. I wanted to give Blud the benefit of the doubt. I wanted the project to work *so* badly that I was willing to work with her increasing demands as the months went by.

I had no idea that those demands would change into, quite literal, temper tantrums. It would then trigger my fawning response which was due to an abusive family situation that I had dealt with before I moved to Canada. The tactic was this: concede to someone until there was a time that they either understood reason or I had the chance to use it against them if necessary.

I started to take screenshots. I wish that I had taken a lot more of them so that everyone could get a better idea of what was happening. I did go back and manage to record the majority of the first outburst. It was the first inkling I had that Blud wasn't playing with a full deck of cards. I knew that that would be one of the first conversations that she would promptly delete. And consequently, I was right.

This assortment of screenshots will exhibit the first serious confrontation that Blud had with me. I am absolutely *not* proud of how I handled this. I was literally panicking at the time and doing whatever I could to get her to calm down. Because I have a temper that can look similar to this in person, I knew that I had to wait until the post-tantrum clarity would hit Blud. I tried my best to not lose my own temper in turn but looking back, I feel that I came off as sounding too timid.

I didn't want to ruin this project.

I wanted to make a comic with an individual that I admired and respected as a fellow artist. And, with me not knowing how to respond, my main priority was to not make things any worse than they already were.

Below is the conversation in its entirety:

I had taken this screenshot on my phone after I had stepped away to compose myself. Blud had handled the confrontation and criticism with a reasonable amount of apprehension. But what had not occurred to me was that I could have said something that would remind her of past experiences with a roleplaying group.

It was something that had evidently scarred Blud for life.

I took away the wrong things from what she had told me, choosing to focus on the aspects of the "betrayal" that had appeared to bother her the most. And in hindsight, I did not see the correlation. I was genuinely apologetic that I had hurt her feelings.

But I *will* critique Blud for her poor handling of the situation. Whether or not I had hurt her feelings, no one is entitled to act like this or claim that this is what attempting to resolve a problem should look like.

I wasn't sure on how to initially respond to Blud. It had been ages since I'd had to deal with someone flying off the handle like that.

The following screenshots are where the conversation picked up, after she had already deleted the above message:

We had weathered the "storm" and after Blud calmed down, she was ready to communicate. There was a part of me that was genuinely sincere when I apologized to her. I did mean it when I said that I had no intentions of hurting her and that I hadn't considered how my statement would sound to her.

I had hoped that this had been a stress response due to factors outside of our collaboration. And especially when I took into account how she had interacted with me in the past. I knew that Blud had a lot going on IRL, and that she had already put a considerable amount of energy into this project.

I had taken her meltdown more personally than she could perceive that I would, because this was something that was acceptable to her. She had a "condition" that would absolve her of these abhorrent meltdowns and I needed to get used to them if we were going to continue working on that project together.

I was shaking the entire time we were typing in the chat.

I was sincere in my responses. I really did want to work things out with Blud and give her the benefit of the doubt. I could have been taking the things that she said too personally or maybe I had been reading too much into the situation. Was there a chance that I could have been misreading her outburst? I tried my best to keep an open mind though I was still somewhat baffled by the fact that she would have meltdowns as often as she did.

I confided in my husband and some other friends about the situation. They were also bewildered by Blud's actions.

By this point, I was struggling with the reality that this collaboration was most likely *not* going to work out but I still wanted to try. I still cared about Blud. We would still hang out together and talk about things like music, our characters, or our stories.

While I did have the foresight to go back and screenshot this section, I wasn't fast enough to get screenshots of everything else that I will be going over. Blud *did* admit to going back and deleting certain exchanges due to a mixture of shame; not wanting to look at them when she would scroll through our conversations. 

In retrospect, it was very telling.

And even after that meltdown, I still enjoyed the friendship that I had with her. I kept my guard up but I was willing to make compromises on her behalf if it resulted in better communication between the two of us. Blud made me promise to immediately tell her if I had a problem with something. I also agreed to keep notes of our conversations.

It worked for the most part.

In the end though, it became apparent that Blud wasn't willing to do the same for me (even after we had an extended conversation about it). I then realized that I had been tasked with basically *managing* her autism for her. I was already busy with my supposedly "bad memory" at the time; and Blud was more than ready to scroll back up through our conversations to cherry-pick a line or two of text to remind me of what was said earlier.

Because, for her, circumstances couldn't ever change. If they did, it would mean that Blud had lost control of the situation and that she was in the wrong. She could *not* be in the wrong. 

And if she was in the wrong? It would take solid evidence, three witnesses, and a court of law to prove it.

She had two other major meltdowns after this. I managed to step away from communicating with her through one of them and I don't remember the other meltdown lasting very long. She immediately deleted the texts of both of those instances before I could take screenshots of them.

It seemed like I could do nothing right when it came to Blud, no matter the lengths I would go to accommodate her. I knew that it was a common tactic used by abusers. I finally accepted that our partnership wasn't going to work out and I began thinking about an exit strategy. The final straw was when she began to expect me to be at her beck and call.

I had promised that I would be there for her, within reason, and I was willing to offer reassurances whenever she would ask me for them. The promise had been made back when we had first started to talk to one another with more frequency, before Blud had shown me her true colors. I would end up completely underestimating just how badly she would need reassurance.

To be frank, I underestimated a lot about Blud in the beginning.

I would end up mentioning that I enjoyed my space in several different conversations with her. That there was a chance that I might be offline for several days so I could take care of things IRL and recharge my social batteries. I'm somewhat of a recluse. And an adult who enjoys things that aren't online.

She said that it was fine.

I became incredibly anxious when I would talk to Blud, especially after her somewhat abrupt change in personality.

I then attempted to put my foot down about boundaries and this is what she had to say:

I decided to walk away for a bit and I came back after I had had some time to think things over. This wasn't healthy for either of us. I wrote a couple of sentences to say goodbye to Blud before I blocked her. I knew that my actions would probably infuriate her. She had told me in the past that she *hated* not being able to have the final word... which she was able to do through email:

“And I'm not letting you pretend you have control over the situation, or the high ground. You distinctly have neither. But since you're determined to stick to your 'principles' on this, I've decided to make it easier for you.”

She thought that she was absolved of all sins just because I had said that I would stand by her at her worst. And at the time that I said that, I had no idea that her worst would be her trying everything possible to protect her boundaries while stomping all over mine. It didn't matter what she said or how often she would apologize when I would confront her. She kept doing it.

I admit that I wasn't perfect in this situation either.

There were times when I was condescending, critical, or downright mean when I talked to Blud because that was the way I had felt when she was talking to me. I soon realized that it didn't matter either way. I could have been using the friendliest tone imaginable and she still would have perceived it as either mocking or dismissive on my end. There were even a few times where I would preface my explanations with an advisory “please know that I am not attacking you and try to read this in an understanding tone,”etc. I would then post an explanation I had spent hours picking at to ensure that there was no way she could misinterpret the intent. Even so, she still read the majority of what I said as criticism and would take it to heart.

I never expected Blud to do something that made her uncomfortable; nor did I expect her to overextend herself when it came to our project. I would go out of my way to make sure everything was fine when we would talk about it. I only expected mutual respect in return.

When we would get into discussions (arguments), she would never attempt to understand my point of view or let me explain myself. It would have made it about me when it should have been about Blud and her needs. She sometimes would agree to come to a compromise about something, but only if I would admit that I was in the wrong.

I know that if Blud was to look at these screenshots, she'd be incredulous that I'm trying to distract from the horrible things that *I* did. And those horrible things that I did? I tried my best to work with her.

It wasn't just her poor teamwork that bothered me. It was her attitude and the lack of respect that she showed me. She would never ask me to clarify something that I said; always assuming that it was a criticism against her. I can only speculate that Blud did not want to hear about how any of this was her fault, like in the email she sent me.

I don't know if I was actually her friend at any point. Friends make efforts to understand one another. Ideally, they’d want their friendships to continue, and they would want everyone to be getting along and having fun. She seemed to actively defy that.

I would argue that things like this don't just happen in a vacuum. There's almost always a reason for such things, but it's honestly a mystery to me as to where this vitriol comes from. I don't know why Blud sees monsters in every word, especially if they come from a  "friend". 

I've seen her viscously mock herself during meltdowns; it seems like she hates herself and expects everyone else to hate her too. I think that she wants it to be the truth, so that it validates the feelings she has about herself. The behavior patterns that I'd been exposed to are consistent with the idea that Blud is seeking confirmation about the personal assumptions she has about herself. It's what makes her so volatile to those around her. Yet, she refuses to break the cycle.

I hope that she can make that choice in the future but at this point, I'm not holding my breath.

[wave2tyun]

killshot | ☆

pairing: taehyun x fem!reader

genre: spy!au, enemies to lovers, fake dating, slow burn, suggestive, a bit of fluff and angst

summary: your life seemed to have taken a turn for the worse the minute kang taehyun stepped foot into the spy agency you worked at. wanting to take on a challenge to prove yourself worthy of the top position, your plans were turned upside down with his addition to the mission. you didn’t think things could get any worse, until they stated one clear, mandatory condition: the two of you had to pretend you were a couple.

warnings: lots of swearing, alcohol consumption, the reader gets tipsy (twice), mentions of death, guns and bombs (there’s nothing explicit though), the presence of an annoying drunk man | let me know if i missed something!!

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this was just a silly little idea that i got during a car drive asdbfhj whenever i repost fics i always kind of get the urge to say "omg this was one of my favorite fics to write" - i think it's because i end up getting so attached to the little universes that i create and then look back on them fondly; with this one, i really really mean it when i say those words (maybe because it's also longer). when i first posted it i actually felt like i gave birth cause it got SO MUCH LONGER than i anticipated ASBHJDS

☆ = repost from my old blog!!

"no."

"hear me out-"

"i'm not hearing anybody out. i'm doing this alone- just like we intended from the start" you hissed.

"y/n, we went over this already" irene pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing "the enemy has changed their plan of action, so we need to change it too. it's not safe for you to go alone anymore"

"that i can understand. but him-" you pointed an accusatory finger to the man in front of you “why does he need to be involved in this? there have to be other suitable agents for this mission”

“trust me, darling, if i could do this alone, i would” he replied bitterly, rolling his eyes.

“listen you two- these orders came directly from the head office. they want you to work on this, not anybody else- and there’s nothing that i can do to change this.” irene crossed her arms. she was completely tired of the way you were both behaving- just like two kids continuously throwing sand in each other’s eyes.

“fine.” you gave in, biting your tongue and swallowing your pride. there was no use being stubborn if the head office was involved, the best thing you could do in this situation was to choose being the bigger person.

irene raised an eyebrow at taehyun, waiting for his response as well.

“fine-“ he repeated after you, throwing daggers towards your direction. you were glad to know the feeling of disgust was mutual.

“finally” irene exclaimed, letting out a big sigh “took you long enough. here’s the modified plan papers. remember- there’s no way i’m allowing you to back out anymore”

you took the small stack of papers from her hands, skimming through the text. gather the gadgets and weapons, bla bla bla, disarm the bomb hidden at the event, bla bla bla, protect france’s president, bla bla bla, disguise yourself as a couple- wait.

“are you fucking kidding me- am i reading this right?” you spat out, eyes almost popping out at the sight. you went over the passage again and again, hoping that you had simply misread it- but there it was, black ink on white paper, the word written clear as day: “couple”

irene massaged her temples with her hands “in order for this mission to be carried out with ease, we need you to act as a cou-“

“no” you both said in unison, cutting her off.

you side-eyed taehyun, somehow feeling offended that he also declined the proposal right away. you knew you had your reasons to not accept that condition- but why was he saying “no”?

kang fucking taehyun- his name alone felt like poison on your tongue.

but it wasn’t like your hatred towards him was unjustified- in fact, you couldn't remember if there was even one second- let alone one day- where him just breathing didn’t make you feel like plotting murder. one day, he just strutted into the agency, acting like he owned the place. he was quick to gain respect from his superiors, his charms alone making it easier for him to receive more complicated missions- and better equipment. you being mad was an understatement. why? just because he was a man, he had it all easy. he has been in the agency for just one year, and he has already surpassed you in ranks, all of the hard work you’ve been putting in for years going down the drain.

you’ve been relentlessly trying to regain your honorable place in the agency. kang taehyun was quick to catch on to your little act, and he wasn’t one to back off easily either- resulting in the two of you being at each other’s necks every second. you viewed this mission as what could have possibly been ‘your redemption arc’. the universe somehow always found a way to get him involved in your business. but this time, you weren’t gonna let him steal your spotlight- not again. you needed to find a way to secure the number one place in rankings like you used to, and you were willing to do whatever it took to feel that glory one more time, even if that meant cooperating with the kang taehyun.

“if you die, i’ll kill you” you hissed.

“big words coming from someone who stands on a chair to reach the top shelves” he fought back, unfazed by your threat. your mouth opened at this accusation, when did he even catch you doing that?

“you piece of-“

“enough” irene sighed, moving to stand between the two of you “you’re gonna bring back my migraines if you keep on acting like that. can’t you treat each other as normal people do? just this once- please? you’re only making this harder for yourselves”

you sighed, rubbing the nape of your neck. irene was a sweetheart, she didn’t deserve to be the victim of your petty fight “when do we have to start?”

her eyes seemed to light up a bit, relieved by your change in attitude “as soon as possible” she skimmed through her notes again “the earliest flight is in 3 days- how about it?”

“that’s okay for me” you said. you silently glanced over at taehyun, who rolled his eyes, uncrossing his arms “guess i’m in too”.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

5 hours.

that was the amount of time you had to endure sitting next to taehyun on the flight. you could handle this, you tried to tell yourself. you’ve been in much worse situations during some of your missions. in the end, it didn’t necessarily mean that the two of you had to interact during that time. you could just sleep the whole flight away and not have to exchange a word with taehyun once.

wrong.

kang taehyun just seemed to love seeing you suffer, in any way, shape or form. it had you seriously contemplating whether he was some kind of sadist. you thought you could at least go through check in and security without any unpleasant incidents happening, but you were wrong- so painfully wrong.

you arrived two hours early to the airport, wanting to get done with the whole process as fast as possible then hide from taehyun at the food court until it was time for you to board the plane. however, two minutes after you took your place in the check-in line, your peace was disrupted.

“you’re early- were you that eager to see me, sweetheart?”

your eye was twitching at the sound of the nickname. you didn’t even have to turn your head to the right to know who was next to you.

“why did it have to be you here at this hour?” you grumbled.

“crazy- it’s almost as if we’re on the same flight” he rolled his eyes “don’t even think about going to the back of the line- we have the same last name on the tickets so we shouldn’t go separately anyway”

you loosened your grip on the suitcase and bit your cheek, it was like he knew your exact thoughts at the moment. the whole thing was all too corny for you- why did the company have to change your name and give you new documents? just because you were ‘a couple’ didn’t mean that you had to be married as well.

security didn’t exactly go smooth either- as if the whole process wasn’t already stressful enough. you should have been suspicious the moment taehyun let you sit in front of him at the line. at that moment, you just brushed it off and thought nothing of it, but when the metal detector went off as you were walking through- that’s when it all clicked.

that little fucker slipped one of his rings in your pocket.

a string of unholy words was running wildly in your mind as the security patted you down to search for any suspicious items. you wished you could jump on him and wipe that grin off his face. he somehow felt the need to embarrass you even further once the ring had been found. he put on a charming smile as he rubbed the nape of his neck, looking up at the security lady “so sorry for my wife- she tends to be quite clumsy, i told her before to check well before walking away from me”

the lady melted down in an instant, letting out a bunch of ‘it’s okay’ before handing you back the ring. he felt the need to make such a scene and for what? to feed his ego? you didn’t bother to wait until he was through with security as well. you gathered your things from the tray as fast as you could, storming past all the other people to get further away from him.

you browsed all the shops (sometimes even hiding in the dressing rooms) until you couldn’t avoid taehyun any longer. you didn’t talk to him once you met up again, even though you knew that it didn’t affect him anyway. nonetheless, taehyun ensured that your day would have a cherry on top- by stealing the one and only window seat.

and you?

you made sure to spill your water on him during turbulence.

that seemed to be enough to make him stop bothering you throughout the flight. he slept away as you played sudoku on your phone, too paranoid to fall asleep yourself in case he would wake up with new ideas in mind.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

after making sure that your bag smacked taehyun’s head when you took it from the upper storage, you both went to retrieve your luggage then headed out to find a taxi and go to your accommodation.

valets, chandeliers, grand paintings adoring the walls, the hotel seemed quite fancy. you weren’t really used to this kind of treatment from your agency, it was the least they could do for all the headaches you were going to endure throughout the mission.

the receptionist handed you the small paper sleeve containing the key cards. you furrowed your brows as you opened it, peering inside. there were 2 cards in there, but for the exact same hotel room. you instantly expressed your confusion “why is there just one r-“ taehyun kicked your foot, continuing to smile at the receptionist as you bit your tongue to hold back a scream. “is there anything else i can help you with?” she inquired.

“i’m pretty sure that’s it, thank you” taehyun answered before you could open your mouth to speak. he took hold of your arm, flashing the receptionist another fake smile before dragging you along with him towards the elevator.

“don’t touch me” you broke free from his grip “what the hell was that about?”

taehyun pressed the floor number on the keypad “are you that fucking dense? he sighed exasperatedly “we’re a couple- remember? we need to act like one, so stop having these unnecessary slip-ups”

‘stupid cover’ you cursed in your mind the person who had been in charge for outlining the plans for your mission. out of all the possible lies they could have made you hold on to- this is what they went for. it was almost like they did this on purpose to annoy you.

ding.

you took hold of your suitcase again, following behind taehyun as you searched for your room “besides- the hotel isn’t scruffy this time, their budget seems to be pretty high for once. so, they might have booked us a suite, not just a single room” he continued, trudging the door open.

your feet were frozen, not moving an inch from the doorway “taehyun- this is not a fucking suite” you snarled, slowly turning your head in his direction.

“why are you talking as if it’s my fault?” taehyun snapped back. he entered the room, bumping his shoulders against yours as you refused to go further in.

“well if you hadn’t been so quick to silence me at the reception- maybe this wouldn’t have been a problem” you pushed your suitcase in, putting your hands on your hips.

“and risk blowing our cover? yeah- what a great plan that would have been” he huffed.

“there’s no way i’m sharing a bed with you” you hissed

“don’t worry- it’s not a pleasure for me either sweetheart. it’s either sleeping on the floor- or with me. your choice”

taehyun didn’t seem like he would ever consider giving up his spot on the bed- but neither did you. you weren’t going to settle for back pain as he snored away on the soft mattress.

so, you laid down on the bed, as far away as you could from taehyun. you were sitting so close to the edge that you were on the verge of falling off, but you couldn't even stand the mere thought of being in such close proximity to him. the thought of his arm touching yours made your skin crawl. 

yet, despite breathing in the same room as taehyun, you somehow managed to get what was probably the best sleep of your life. keeping your eyes closed just for one moment more, you held the blanket closer to you, enjoying the warmth it provided, snuggling your face deeper into the pillow beneath you. but the pillow wasn't as soft as you remembered when you put your head down to sleep last night. instead, it was hard, and somehow hot to the touch. confused, you brought a hand up and pressed down on it, slightly squeezing it, then removed it as if you had just gotten burnt when you were met with the feeling of bare skin on skin.

"if you wanted to touch me that badly you could have just asked, love" a raspy voice came from beneath you.

"what the fuck-" you shouted as you got up and finally opened your eyes. you squinted as you adjusted to the bright light coming from the sun.

kang taehyun was sitting right next to you, bare chest exposed and a playful smirk plastered on his face.

"how did we- when did you even take your shirt off?"

"are you always this loud in the morning?" he asked, ignoring your questions. his hair was a ruffled mess, slightly puffy face indicating that he hadn't been awake for that long either.

you still looked at him expectingly, waiting for him to answer. he huffed, rolling his eyes "you snuggled with your burning limbs close to me as you slept. i got overwhelmingly hot so i took off my shirt. there- simple as that"

"why didn't you just push me off or something" you asked. it wasn’t typical for him to act like this.

what taehyun said was indeed the truth. he couldn’t stand you- yes, but he wasn’t an asshole. he couldn’t find it in him to wake you up or pry you off him, as he didn’t want to wake up in the morning to you being groggy. therefore, he was left with only one option: enduring it.

pushing your question aside once more, taehyun got up from the bed, stretching as he made his way to the bathroom, he stopped right before getting past the door to speak "did you know you talk in your sleep? you seemed to enjoy it, i didn't want to ruin the fun for you." he snickered, disappearing into the other room.

you stood there with your jaw hanging, unable to form any kind of comeback to argue. was there even a way to recover from that? when you heard the shower running, you took a pillow from the bed, burying your face into it and silently screaming. you wanted to dig a hole for yourself at least 20 meters underground.

after regaining your composure, you got ready so that you and taehyun could get started on today’s task: gathering the necessary weapons and equipment. irene informed you about some namjoon guy they had a contract with. he apparently sold any kind of gear you would ever need for a mission: from smoke bombs to lethal poison- he had it all. you went to the outskirts of the city searching for a shabby cabin (not suspicious at all), the storage hidden away in an underground system there.

“are you sure this is the right place?” you asked taehyun, eyeing the old rusty door. the whole place just screamed ‘murder’, how exactly did your agency even come to find out about the guy? maybe you didn’t want to know.

“the coordinates match up with what irene sent us- so yeah, probably. try not to hold my hand if you’re so scared” he chuckled.

you ignored his childish remark, going past him to open the heavy door. the inside didn’t match up with the exterior, it was surprisingly warm and cozy. a man with purple hair and a black dress shirt was sitting on an armchair, book in hand. you assumed it was namjoon.

“oh- hello?” you didn’t exactly know how to approach him, you felt bad for barging in without even knocking.

his eyes glanced up from the book “ah” he got up “finally, i was worried irene didn’t send you the right location” he flashed you a dimpled smile. for a man who owned over one thousand weapons, you didn’t expect him to be this...cute?

taehyun bit his cheek “so you’re namjoon?”

“yes, and i already know who you two are. come on- follow me”

namjoon lead you towards an elevator, hidden away from curious eyes in a crowded closet. the ride down seemed almost endless, but that’s how it needed to be. if one single gunshot could be heard from the surface, his entire business could risk being destroyed.

“i’ve got a couple of things for you to try, as well as some accessories irene asked me to give you” namjoon put down a box on a table. it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary- laser pen, tracking devices, coat button cameras, the usual. the guns weren’t exactly essential for your mission, they were more of a safety precaution. either way, you still had to practice using them.

getting into the designated practice area, you and taehyun each had a target to hit. you needed at least 5 good shots in a row to be deemed skilled enough for the weapon. taehyun’s first try was perfect, meanwhile yours barely hit the target.

“seems like someone’s rusty”

“beginner’s luck” you mumbled.

giving it another go, you ended up with the same result. the exact thing happened the 3rd try as well. you frowned, it wasn’t usually like this for you, and taehyun’s cocky smirk only made your blood boil further.

“nervous?” he chuckled

“i’m just warming up- i need to get used to it” you got back into your shooting stance, putting your finger on the trigger.

“take your time, darling, hell’s happy to wait for you”

you missed again.

“can you just shut up for one fucking minute?” you huffed. you didn’t want to let taehyun get to you, but even when he didn’t open his mouth to speak you could still hear his voice in your mind, mocking you.

“i can give you something else if you want to-“ namjoon tried to help, not knowing he only angered you further.

“i need him out of sight- not another weapon” you quickly dismissed him “can i get a private practice room?”

“practicing in private won’t fix your lack of talent” you heard taehyun whisper.

if looks could kill, taehyun would be on the floor the second those words left his mouth “if i point this gun towards your direction i’ll make sure that it won’t be a miss” you fumed.

namjoon was clearly taken aback by the tension in the room. desperate to diffuse the situation, he kindly asked taehyun to look around the other areas as you practiced a few more rounds with him.

you felt bad for the guy, he was a victim to yet another one of your fights with taehyun. you kept the rest of your interactions with him short, wanting to get back to the hotel as soon as possible.

“look- i’ll buy you ice cream, will that make it better?” taehyun asked exasperatedly.

“i’m not a fucking child” you snarled. the only thing up until now that taehyun had managed to do successfully was ridiculing you- and you were fed up with it. did he think that some ice cream was going to erase all those embarrassing moments he had been putting you through?

“well what do you want me to do then?” he sighed.

“i don’t know- maybe stop acting like an asshole? like you’re better than me?”

taehyun stopped the car on the side of the road, his hands gripping the steering wheel harder “i’m not acting like an asshole” he turned his head to look at you.

“yes, you are- you did that the whole day and you are doing that right now” you said in utter disbelief. his snarky attitude was tipping you over.

“get out” he spoke firmly, breaking eye contact with you.

“what?”

taehyun didn’t know how much longer he could be with you in the car without losing his temper even more “i said get out” he repeated once again, closing his eyes “go on and find the way to the hotel yourself”

“fine” you scoffed. you grabbed your purse and slammed the car door as hard as you could once you got out of the vehicle. taehyun wasted no time getting back on the road. finally, he could breathe again.

“jerk” you screamed. what a great time to wear heels this was. you made your way to the side walk, shielding your eyes from the sun with your hands as you looked around, trying to recall any familiar surroundings. with every step you took, it felt like your foot was pressed into a hot piece of lego. you had been wearing those damn heels all day, and now the agonising pain was finally starting to kick in.

taehyun couldn’t help but constantly steal glances at you from the rearview mirror, watching as you struggled to walk without your feet wobbling. sighing, he waited until he could take a turn to go back and pick you up. maybe you weren’t the only one that acted like a kid.

getting back to the same spot he just left you at barely 2 minutes ago, taehyun stopped the car. yet you weren’t anywhere to be found. he got out to search the area better- nothing.

“shit” he mumbled under his breath.

taehyun couldn’t stay still as he waited for you to return. of course, he got to the hotel faster because of the car, but what was taking you so long to arrive? the thought of him ruining the mission because of a petty fight was tormenting his mind. he didn’t want to lose his job at the agency because of you. he kept on walking back and forth from the couch to the door, looking through the peephole for any sign of you coming down the hallway. and just as he was about to check again, for probably the 30th time that night, he heard knocking on the door. it was you- it had to be you. after all, the only other room key had remained with him, and there was no way someone else would disturb him at this ungodly hour.

taehyun cleared his voice, erasing any sign of worry on his face before opening the door, apology already on the tip of his tongue.

"y/n, i'm sorry-" taehyun spoke as soon as he saw you in the doorway, reaching his hand out to take your purse.

"fuck off" you spat out, slapping his hand away from you. you went straight to the bathroom and locked the door, not in the mood to hear any of his excuses. you stood with your back against the door, burying your face in your hands. you felt so tired and sick of having to deal with taehyun’s attitude. but you weren't gonna let him be the one to steal the spotlight from your mission- not again.

taehyun sighed heavily in front of the door, putting his hand down from knocking, choosing to simply let you be for a while. you had all the right to be mad, and he knew that.

you took a shower to cool off, refusing to look taehyun in the eyes, or even in his direction at all, as you got ready to go to sleep.

taehyun put his finger on the lamp's button, letting out those words that had been bugging him all night "just so you know- i did go back for you today, but i couldn't find you anymore. maybe that's gonna convince you that i really meant it when i said sorry" taehyun flicked off the light, huffing, pitch black darkness taking over the room.

you stayed silent, with your back turned to him, still too stubborn to accept his apology. 'he just wants to go to bed with a clean conscience' you tried to convince yourself. ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

you were grateful to have woken up with your own personal space, unlike your first night there. taehyun wasn’t even on his side of the bed, the sound of the water running indicating that he had already beat you to the bathroom. you turned over to the side, ready to enjoy those few minutes of peace.

“huh” you brought a hand to your face, feeling something on your forehead. it was a sticky note. you rubbed your eyes, trying to make sense of what was written on the small piece of paper.

‘there’s ice cream in the freezer’

“what...” you mumbled, how did ice cream have anything to do with- oh.

you fought back a chuckle. so, the great taehyun couldn’t find the strength to own up to his actions and say the words ‘sorry’ a second time. still, you accepted his silent apology, going over to the freezer to get your hands on the sweet treat. how could you ever say no to something free?

taehyun got out of the bathroom as you still nibbled on the ice cream sandwich, the steam and heat instantly invading the room. you looked up from the piece of food in your hand, almost dropping it once your eyes laid on him. taehyun sat in the middle of the room, chest and sculpted abs on full display with a few water droplets adoring his skin from his still dripping hair.

“what are you blushing for? it’s not the first time you’re seeing me like this” he smirked.

“idiot- it’s the heat. your shower transformed the room into a whole sauna” you meekly tried to defend yourself, not wanting to give him any satisfaction. you cursed your cheeks for reacting like this well before your mind could even comprehend the situation.

“oh- so you’re talking to me again. i take it you forgive me?” he leaned against the door.

“don’t get ahead of yourself kang taehyun” you scoffed “it’s gonna take more than just an ice cream for me to fully forgive you”

“i know, you did tell me yesterday that ‘you’re not a child’. just thought it might sweeten that sour attitude of yours” he huffed.

“whatever- let me get changed, then we’ll get in touch with irene” you said as you walked over to your suitcase to grab some clean clothes.

“i already talked to her. she said there’s nothing we have to do for the day. we just need to wait for the big event tomorrow.”

“huh- you talked to her? when?” you raised your eyebrows at him. you could swear you hadn’t heard a single sound all morning.

“yeah- while you were busy snoring” he chuckled.

you scoffed at his reply “as if you’re a saint while you’re sleeping” there he went again with his ridiculous accusations.

“well- unlike you, i haven’t received any complaints from others” he winked at you.

“really? then here’s your first one- you’re loud as hell” you slammed the bathroom door. that wink and his cocky grin were enough to bring back the annoyance he always seemed to provoke within you.

taehyun loudly knocked as you were busy brushing your teeth “how long are you gonna stay in there? i have something to ask”

you rolled your eyes, taking the toothbrush out of your mouth to reply “i’ll be out in 5 minutes” you shouted back. you didn’t know whether it was curiosity or fear taking over you from his words.

taehyun was still in front of the door when you opened it to get out.

“wanna take advantage of the activities here? it’s not like we’re paying for any of this- the agency is. plus- we have the day off anyway” taehyun shrugged his shoulders. his proposal didn’t sound bad at all. you could definitely use some sort of relaxation, your whole body was still aching from walking in heels yesterday.

you put your hands over your mouth, gasping exaggeratedly “finally, i can’t believe there’s good ideas coming out of your mouth” you were actually excited for once about one of taehyun’s suggestions. this was your chance to detach yourself from all the stress, the mission, and most importantly- him.

“when do i not have good ideas?” taehyun brought a hand to his chest. he sounded offended by your statement.

“i’m not going to answer that.” you replied shortly.

grabbing your bathrobes from the reception, you and taehyun headed towards the hotel’s spa facility. the area was filled with all sorts of natural plants and bamboo furniture, the meditation music being accompanied by the quiet sound from the mini artificial waterfall in the middle of it all. having such a packed schedule all the time, you never got any opportunities to spoil yourself in places like this. the anticipation and excitement were making your heart bubble up with joy, but your smile quickly dropped once you arrived in the massage room.

“taehyun, why didn’t you mention the hotel activities being couple activities” you hissed. standing in the doorway, you looked in terror at the swarm of lovey dovey pairs sitting on yoga mats in front of you.

“did you think i made the proposal knowing that?” he scoffed.

“well i can’t seem to understand how you overlooked such a major detail??”

“listen- the poster said couple massages. how the hell was i supposed to know that they’re making us do the work for each other? i just thought we’d both get a massage done at the same time”

“you must be the kangs, welcome” the host greeted you “come on, sit down. we were just getting started with a simple shoulder massage” she pointed to the last empty mat in the room, then motioned for you to begin.

taehyun’s eyelids fluttered shut as you awkwardly placed your hands on his shoulders, the material of the robe doing almost nothing to hide the feeling of the rock hard muscles underneath. you grimaced as you pressed your fingers down, trying to reminisce the movements you’d use while preparing pizza dough.

“you’re doing it wrong” he deadpanned, opening his eyes to make direct eye contact with you.

“shut the hell up”

you didn’t know what you were doing- yes. but were you going to admit that to taehyun? absolutely not. rolling your eyes, you continued to clumsily massage the tense muscles.

“i can’t feel a goddamn thing” he complained again.

“how about now?” you pinched his skin between your thumb and your index finger, using as much pressure as you could. taehyun’s face distorted in pain as he crumbled beneath you “for fuck’s sake-“ he grabbed your wrists, stopping you from provoking him even more suffering “how are you so bad at this?”

frustrated, you moved your hands away from his body “if you think you’re that great, why don’t you give it a shot?”

“i will give it a shot” he snarled.

the host approached the two of you just as taehyun placed his hands on you “what a lovely couple” she smiled. nudging taehyun, she whispered one more thing before walking away “remember, use your hands gently, like you’re touching the most delicate petal”

taehyun’s ears turned a bright shade of red at the sound of that. he bit his lip so hard trying not to laugh at her words, you were surprised he didn’t end up drawing blood.

“close your eyes, petal” he snickered.

you snorted at the nickname, doing as he said regardless. taehyun’s hands were surprisingly warm. he did his best mimicking the actions from the couples around you, his long slender fingers massaging your muscles with such care, you could feel all the built-up tension melting away.

“wait- this is kinda nice” you spoke quietly.

“told you so”

you hoped taehyun wouldn’t catch that, but of course, he did. you opened one eye, tempted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. getting ahold of yourself, you chose not to, you never knew when taehyun would treat you this nicely again. you sighed, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling. this was the least he could do to pay you back for all the headaches he had caused you so far throughout the mission.

you did make a few other attempts to give taehyun a massage, but even with the host’s instructions, he was never satisfied. in the end, he gave up, preferring to do all the work himself instead of letting you touch him again. he probably left the spa room feeling more tense than when he had arrived, the only thing bringing him some sort of consolation being the free bottle of wine at the end of the lesson- which he opened as soon as you came back to your hotel room.

after getting changed, you sat down next to taehyun on the bed, noticing only one wine filled glass on the table “aren’t you gonna share that?”

“after all the pain i’ve went through today? don’t think so” he replied before taking a sip of the crimson beverage.

“don’t be a jerk” you snapped back “i tried my best”

taehyun sighed heavily, grabbing the other clean glass in the room to pour you some of the wine. you muttered a quick ‘thanks’ before taking it from his hands, downing the liquid almost immediately.

“what the fuck are you doing” he grabbed your wrist “take it easy- our mission is tomorrow, i don’t think you want to wake up with a headache” there was a hint of worry hidden in his stern voice.

“a bit more won’t hurt- i just want to sleep well tonight” you replied. your hand was already reaching for the bottle to pour another one. taehyun simply rolled his eyes, hoping that you’d stop after the seccond glass. yet- you repeated your actions, downing the glass and going for the bottle right after. this time, taehyun snatched it away from your hands and hid it behind the bed.

“don’t ruin the fun-“ you furrowed your brows “just give me the bottle”

you stood up, towering over taehyun as you extended your arm. he wasn’t expecting you to put up such a fight, but his reflexes were sharp- he took hold of your arm quickly, making you lose your balance and stumble over him. his hand came down to your waist to hold you as you landed in his lap, not allowing you to slip away anymore. you looked at him with wide eyes, your loud heartbeat drumming against his chest. “don’t make me repeat myself” he muttered.

“or what?” you provoked him further. your eyes shifted their focus on his lips, sitting centimeters apart from yours. you had never paid attention before to how soft they looked- so soft and rosy, your mind couldn’t help but wander off and think about how they would feel on yours. taehyun seemed to become nervous underneath your gaze, his breathing became ragged, hand gripping your waist slightly tighter. he licked his lips before moving his face closer to yours, yet still not enough to fully close the gap. your eyelids fluttered shut, and he smirked at your action, his thumb coming to graze your lower lip slowly.

“or you might just make me lose myself completely” he breathed out. his gaze was still fixated on your lips, only tempting him further to give in, to let go of everything that had been holding him back until now from accepting that it wasn’t hatred he felt upon seeing you, or even hearing your name. he had been convinced that you hating him meant that he was supposed to feel the same, but he couldn’t- and he could barely even fake it anymore. especially now, when you somehow managed to completely break down his guard in mere seconds. thinking this through, taehyun chose to back away. he didn’t have the confirmation whether it was your actual feelings leading your actions, or just the alcohol in your system.

he cleared his throat, removing his hands from your body and putting that usual cold façade back on “like i’ve said, our mission is tomorrow. you should probably go to bed” his eyes didn’t meet yours when you opened them to look at him again.

your gaze shifted to the floor, you were unable to hide the underlying disappointment in your voice “yeah- you’re right”. you hesitated a bit before finally separating yourself from him, the warmth of his body gone just as the excitement that was beginning to take over your heart. you put your head down on the pillow, the sound of more wine getting poured in a glass being heard as you closed your eyes and drifted off to sleep.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・ "your tie is lopsided, let me fix that" you walked over to taehyun. there was just one hour left until the event started. the atmosphere in the room was suffocating, to say the least.

taehyun scoffed upon hearing that "i can definitely do a better job than you" yet, he didn't make any movement to stop you from touching him or his clothes “everything is just a competition for you… isn’t it?” you said bitterly, your eyes were fixated on his chest, his tie in your hand. 

“isn’t it for you, too?” taehyun asked. he immediately regretted his question, the words seemed to roll off his tongue as an automatic response. he peered into your eyes, although he was hesitant to hear your answer. you paused for a moment before continuing, refusing to look up and meet his gaze "maybe i don't want it to be anymore"

you went back to the mirror, trying to look busy as you "fixed" your makeup, although you had already ensured it was perfect with each step you did.

taehyun didn't say anything to that. it wasn't the time he could let himself be swayed by his emotions. you were both at the peak of your mission, where high attention was demanded and no mistakes were allowed to be made. he cleared his throat before speaking, trying to change the conversation from the sensitive topic "you look good" "thanks" you looked down, playing a bit more with the lipstick in your hand before stuffing it in your purse "we should go" "yeah- we should" he repeated after you, grabbing the spare card for your hotel room.

the entire venue was filled with well-known people from the political field, as well as celebrities. the event had been long planned to celebrate the president’s birthday. however, he started to have a rising suspicion that someone was after him, wanting to backstab him so that they could steal his position, which is how you got into the play. your team was able to pinpoint the enemy’s plan of action due to their sloppy preparation. they talked freely around Élysée Palace about their intention, completely unaware of the mics hidden all around the building. they were going to infiltrate the office and place a bomb there, wiping out the president without putting themselves at much risk.

being nervous was an understatement. it’s been long since you’ve been assigned such an important mission- way too long. the fact that you didn’t know whether you were going to make direct contact with the enemy didn’t help either.

taehyun seemed to be glued to your side, not letting you go once. he held you by the waist the whole time you were walking around, searching for your table. his eyes were trained on you, not allowing the disgusting rich men in the room to think that they can lay a finger on you, not even for one second.

“why do you keep on holding me so close?” you wondered aloud.

“we need to act like a couple- did you forget that again?”

“that doesn’t mean i’m not allowed to walk on my own” you said trying to break yourself free yourself from his grip. but taehyun stopped you before you could fully do so, he grabbed your wrist, bringing your back flushed against his chest. he dipped down to whisper in your ear “sweetheart, let’s not make a scene now- shall we?” he twirled you around, swaying your body to the rhythm of the music to disguise your actions as natural.

“now- let’s discuss. when do you want to put our plan into action?” he leaned down to whisper once again. his voice sent shivers down your spine.

“not yet- we haven’t been here for long and leaving so early would raise suspicion” you muttered.

“then- how about a drink?” taehyun brought you closer, not breaking eye contact with you.

you nodded “a drink sounds good” just like the ‘massage’, there was no way you could turn down something you didn’t have to pay for yourself.

taehyun spun you around once more before heading off to the bar. you continued the search for your table, settling down on one of the chairs as you waited for him.

“what is a princess like you doing all alone?” a sleazy man approached you, reeking of sweat and alcohol. your senses were instantly on high alert, you were praying that taehyun wouldn’t take much longer to return.

“i’m not alone- i’m just waiting for someone” you tried to dismiss him, hoping that he would walk away and leave you alone. but a man’s confidence seems to skyrocket when they drink, so of course, he didn’t back down so easily.

“say, why won’t you have a drink with me while you wait?” his hand was in motion, inching closer to touch your shoulder. it abruptly stopped upon hearing a voice from behind him.

“i’m afraid i’ve already taken care of that, sir” taehyun settled down the drinks on the table before occupying the empty chair next to you. he noticed from far away how uncomfortable you looked and he rushed to get back to you, almost spilling the drinks in the process.

he placed one of his hands on your knee, trying to give the man a subtle hint that he should give up and leave you alone.

“i’m sure one more drink wouldn’t hurt? right, miss?” he continued.

taehyun clicked his tongue, increasingly annoyed by his presence “i’m pretty sure it would, though”

the man’s smile was wiped off his face as soon as taehyun said that, his hand gripped his bottle of beer tighter “why won’t you let her answer, hm?”

you were unsure what to do- you wanted to get rid of him, but you didn’t want to anger him further either. you weren’t supposed to draw any kind of attention towards yourselves, if this were to turn into a big argument, it could damage your mission badly. taehyun’s hand on your knee felt reassuring. at the same time, it made your heart skip a beat whenever he gave it a light squeeze.

“what if i search for you once i finish this first, would that be good?” you did your best fake smile, so that he wouldn’t see directly through your lie. somehow, that answer was good enough for him. he nodded, smiled, then walked away.

taehyun slumped into the chair, taking a sip of the cognac he ordered.

“thank you” you spoke softly “you came just at the right moment”

taehyun’s ears turned red at that “now maybe you understand why i wasn’t letting you go before” he played with the glass in his hand. you bit your lip and nodded, taking a sip of the drink yourself. taehyun had good taste.

you both settled for analysing your surroundings as you drank, making small remarks here and there about the people around you. however, once your glasses were empty, taehyun could already notice the same man approaching your table again. he got up abruptly, taking your wrist and tugging you along with him.

“hey- what’s gotten into you?” you asked. you couldn’t figure out the expression he had on his face, nor his actions. taehyun loudly knocked on the bathroom door. upon hearing no answer, he dragged you in, locking the door after him “weren’t you the one saying that we shouldn’t make a scene?”

“and what was i supposed to do? sit there and watch as he tried to touch you again?” he huffed.

“why are you acting like this? maybe i wouldn’t have minded having a drink with another man” you provoked him further. that wasn’t actually the case- the quick lie slipped past your lips in the heat of the moment, as you were curious to see where he was going to end up with this.

"oh really?" taehyun pressed his tongue against his cheek, crossing his arms. he took a step closer towards you, to which, at first, you chose not to react.

"yes, really."

you tried to sound confident as you talked, but taehyun took note of your pursed lips “you know, lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart." he took another step towards you then another- until you had no choice but to take a few steps back yourself, not stopping until your back hit the wall.

“you know what? i don’t get you-“ you snapped “and i’m tired of trying to figure you out” you pressed a finger to his chest, letting out all those pent-up frustrations that had been tormenting you for the past few days “you keep on giving me these mixed signals- your actions never seem to match your words. how do you even think i felt today? or after last night? do you even care about that?”

you chuckled drily as taehyun remained silent. “why won’t you just give me a clear answer?” your gaze dropped to the floor "if you had the guts, kang taehyun, you would have kissed me"

taehyun's eyes looked sharp, he inched closer to you, bringing your chin up with his hand so that he could look directly into your eyes "you think something is stopping me from doing that right now?" he tilted his head and smirked, slight amusement hidden in his voice.

"then do it" you said firmly, pushing him over the edge.

taehyun slipped his other hand on the small of your back, holding you close so that he could press his mouth on yours, hot and heavy. he wasted no time to lick your lips with his tongue, silently asking for permission to deepen the kiss. you opened your mouth for him, the feeling of his lips and tongue even more intoxicating than the alcohol that you had consumed earlier that night. he lifted one of your legs up, letting his fingers dance along the bare skin that was revealed once your dress slid up with the movement. your body felt hot all over, you hadn't even known how badly you were craving for his touch until you got to experience it. you clasped your hands behind his neck, then dragged them along his back, slightly scratching it with your nails. taehyun groaned at the feeling, hoisting your other leg up as well so that you could wrap them both around his waist. he moved on to your neck, biting at the skin in a slightly hidden area. it was just enough to remind that man and all those other people lurking after you tonight that you were only his. he carried you over to the sink, putting you on the edge of the counter there so that he could have better access to your neck.

there was knocking on the door, followed by the rattling of the doorknob.

"tae-"

taehyun put his index finger over your lips, shushing you as he covered you whole in kisses: your neck, your collarbones, your chest, all the way down to the valley of your breasts, the area exposed by the cleavage of your dress.

"they'll leave" he spoke against your skin.

the image of a ticking clock crossing your mind every now and then filled you with worry and pressure "we should leave too-" taehyun pressed his finger over your lips once more.

"tae-" you breathed out again "-the mission"

"just a bit more” he whispered “there's still time" he looked up at you, those big eyes of his, filled to the brim with desire, pleaded you to let him continue. you grabbed the collar of his shirt, connecting your lips with his again. you sighed in contentment, letting him take control over the kiss. soft gasps and wet lips, his warm mouth on your skin- you got lost into it all, not caring for one second whether your hair or your dress were turning into a mess.

you could barely bring yourself to stop, and when you did, it felt like your cheeks had been set on fire. you hid your face in the crook of taehyun’s neck, breathing heavily against his skin as your brain finally processed what had just happened between the two of you.

you kissed kang taehyun

no-

you made out- with kang taehyun

and you enjoyed it.

in fact, you enjoyed it so much you seriously contemplated ditching the event just to feel his lips on yours for a few moments more.

the rational part of you was stronger “come on- we have a mission to complete” you pressed a quick peck on taehyun’s lips. he smiled, taking his time to fix your appearance before holding your hand and reaching for the door.

“let’s do it” he breathed out.

you sneaked past the security guards and reached the hallway towards the office. you wished you could have collaborated with them, but there was no way you could have known whether the person betraying the president was one of them or not, and you didn’t feel like risking your cover.

your hand reached towards the doorknob, wanting to check whether the door was locked or not. taehyun spoke right before you touched it.

“don’t- it’s dangerous, the bomb could be on the door”

you slowly retracted your hand. you didn’t think this through, and quickly jumped into action. taehyun was right, and you had to find a way to test his theory right before making another attempt at getting in.

you used some of the gadgets irene bought for you, making a small hole inside the wall and pushing through an extendable stick with a camera to look inside.

bingo.

the bomb was placed flushed against the door. had taehyun not stopped you before, you would have both been dead in an instant.

“seems like we’ll have to find another way in” you muttered.

taehyun eyed the outside window “how are your wall climbing skills?”

“not bad at all” you offered to go first, it was probably your best shot for now.

the distance between this window and the one in the office wasn’t that long either, you were just hoping that there weren’t any curious eyes looking up at the building from the garden.

melting away the lock on the window, you succeeded to get in. taehyun followed right after you, jumping inside. the bomb didn’t have a timer on it, the wire connected to the doorknob was what would made it go off. you had to give this one to them, it was pretty smart- this way, they ensured that they had less chances of missing their target.

“any updates?” irene’s voice was heard from your ear piece.

“yeah- we’re in. the enemy’s plan isn’t so bad after all, they just organised it poorly”

“that’s great- but you need to hurry up. you don’t have much time until the guy checking the security cameras alerts the other guards”

“got it” you replied

“so no pressure at all” taehyun laughed as he searched for the necessary tools. the bomb wasn’t unlike anything else you’ve seen before. the only thing you needed to do was follow the procedure carefully, so as not to miss any steps.

taehyun took it upon himself to do it, even though you were both in just as much danger anyway. you helped him out as much as you could, reassuring him that he followed all the steps in the right order and giving him new tools whenever he needed to switch.

“shit-“ you could hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs “they’re onto us, you need to hurry”

“hang on- i’m almost done” taehyun tried his best to remain calm, he couldn’t have his hands trembling at this very moment.

“you either show yourselves, or we’ll have no choice but to barge in” a male voice shouted from behind the door. they were definitely not alone.

“2 more wires” he whispered.

you were growing impatient, but you bit your tongue trying to remain silent, taehyun had to remain concentrated.

“we’ll take your silence as an answer” the man shouted again before starting a countdown.

3, 2, 1-

the door was busted down from its shackles.

the guards remained silent as they were met with...an empty room?

you and taehyun barely managed to make it out on time, and you were now holding your breath as you clung onto the outside wall again. you entered the building through another window from the floor beneath you before they had a chance to inspect the area and potentially see you.

after making sure you were in a safe zone, you reached out to irene again: “we’re done here- we’ll send you that fucker’s fingerprints”

“excellent”

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

taehyun called the reception as you were taking a cab back to the hotel. he requested 2 bottles of wine for you to drink as a form of celebration. you couldn’t wait to lie down and drink to your heart’s content.

so now- here you were, you sitting in taehyun’s lap as he tried his best not to laugh in your face at your drunken words and actions. it seemed like you couldn’t handle alcohol that well when you were exhausted.

“can you kiss me again?” you asked quietly, closing your eyes before you could even notice his reaction. taehyun was taken aback by your sudden proposal, but nevertheless, fondness took over his eyes in an instant. he cupped your cheeks, bringing your face closer to him until your noses were touching. then, he opted for pressing a soft kiss on the corner of your lips, to which you opened your eyes, cheeks burning at the small gesture. “god- you’re making me go crazy” he spoke softly against your lips. his hand took hold of your wrist, leaving a tender kiss on your pulse point “let’s get you to bed”

you shook your head, dipping your head down to bury your face in his chest as you hugged him tightly. silence filled up the room for a moment before you finally spoke again “maybe it was supposed to be like this from the beginning.” your voice was slightly muffled as you refused to move away from your spot. taehyun ran his hands through your hair “…like what?”

“i don’t know. maybe we were never supposed to hate each other" those words rolled off your tongue softly, your eyes getting heavier with each passing second.

taehyun tucked a few strands behind your ear. your words tugged at his heart, and it was like something clicked for the both of you as you voiced out your drunken thoughts. it was stupid-so stupid. all this time, you had both been too caught up in the high created by all the praises and achievements. you were taught to eliminate any kind of obstacle that came your way whenever you set a goal, you forgot to look at each other as just...humans. sure, the pride that bloomed in your chest whenever you successfully cleared yet another mission felt good, but has that ever felt as good as taehyun's touch? his lips on yours, rough hands enveloping yours as a silent sign of care and reassurance, arms circling your waist to keep you close, to keep you safe. you never paid much attention to human relationships, and perhaps that was the reason why, once you stepped foot into your empty apartment, once the cheers died down, you had never felt truly satisfied with your life.

hearing the sound of light snores coming from beneath him, taehyun looked down to find you already fast asleep in his lap. “cute” he chuckled, secretly taking out his phone for a pic, the corners of his mouth turning up at the thought of teasing you about it tomorrow. he slowly detangled your hand that was holding on to his shirt tightly, then lifted you up to carry you over to your side of the bed. he frowned upon noticing that you never had the chance to take off your dress. diverting his eyes as much as he could, taehyun took it off for you, blushing as he slid one of his shirts over your head. he didn't want to invade your privacy, he just wished you could rest comfortably after experiencing such a draining day.

“sleep well, y/n” taehyun pressed a kiss against your temple before getting underneath the covers himself. he sighed in contentment as he brought himself closer to you, your soft rhythmic breaths and warm body putting his own at ease.

taglist: @huekalover3000

[jujutsubaby]

after hours (part 8)

☆ pairing: toji fushiguro x afab!reader ☆ summary: you help toji bake brownies for megumi's soccer meet tomorrow! you're excited to spend a cute and wholesome night in with baking brownies and eating taco bell with toji but he has something different in mind... ☆ tags: modern au, babysitting au ☆ warnings: 18+ !! MINORS DNI !! oral (f! and m! recieving), penetrative sex (p in the v), smoking, overstimulation, cannabis use, rough sex ☆ a/n: GUYS MORE CRAZY FILTHY SMUT IS HERE FOR U!! enjoy luvs!! and also enjoy even more taco bell sponsorship~ next post will be gojo centered and will still have some smut so stay tuned!! im feeling a little less shy writing smut but i still have a lot of ways to go before writing the infamous 3way but so far im feeling good ab this series and still feeling the momentum >:) also toji is soooo goofy and dilfy i love him :( 🖤🤍 series masterlist 🤍🖤

by the time toji comes downstairs from putting megumi to sleep, you’re already measuring out flour and beating eggs for the brownies as a form of distraction from your horny thoughts. you give a quick wry smile to toji before going back to beating the eggs. you feel and hear toji’s footsteps creaking until they’re in the kitchen, and eventually, right behind you. his arms snake between your hips and you let out a gasp, despite knowing what he’s up to. toji pulls himself closer to you and nuzzles his head between you neck and shoulders, and you instinctively roll your neck to the side, allowing him full access to one of the most sensitive parts of your body. 

you close your eyes in pleasure as toji peppers small kisses on your neck and shoulder blade, causing you to breathe heavier. “toji~ we need to bake megumi’s brownies,” you whine, trying to focus your energy back on beating the eggs again. 

“right, the brownies…” toji mumbles into ear, causing you to shiver. he continues to leave tiny kisses throughout your neck before finally stopping and resting his head in  the crook of your neck. there’s a brief moment of companionable silence with him, where the only sounds were the beating of the eggs, the cicadas outside, and the hum of the heater. 

toji breaks the silence first. “so…how was your night last night?” he feels your body get rigid almost immediately and starts rubbing your shoulders. “don’t get nervous, i’m only asking because i’m genuinely interested, pumpkin. not everything about me is horny.” 

“yeah, right!” you scoff, remembering the stunt he pulled at target earlier today. “seems like you already know how my night went, anyway.” you roll your eyes as you playfully shrug toji off your neck and he chuckles. 

“that’s just the last part of the night, i wanna know how your night in general was, jeez…” toji teases as he measures out the dry goods for the brownies. you figure toji is being genuine, and you have no reason to believe he isn’t. plus, you aren’t that bothered by him eavesdropping on your steamy encounter with satoru last night – you don’t want to admit it but you find it extremely hot, in fact. 

you sigh and start telling toji about your night, from taking the gummy shoko gave you to getting kicked out of playing dance dance revolution. you omit most of the sexual tension of the night with satoru, but you figure toji can just figure that part out by himself. 

toji has an amused face by the end of your story. “wow, so this is what happens when daddy doesn’t respond to your text fast enough, huh. to think i could’ve taken care of you much better than-”

you hit him playfully in the arm before he can finish the sentence. the last thing you need in your head is satoru and toji both arguing with each other about who can satisfy you better. you’d love to bookmark that fantasy for later, though. maybe in your bed, with your vibrator. 

 “shut up!” you pour the wet mix into the dry one and start mixing the brownie mix slowly as you both chuckle. 

“i didn’t know you got high.” toji seems intrigued. 

you continue mixing. “yeah, i mean, sometimes i do. i guess we haven’t really ever...hung out like that. i mean, it’s kinda bad form to show up to work intoxicated, no?” you joke, thinking about how insane you have to be on something while babysitting a child. 

“how many times do i have to say this? cut the shit, y/n, it’s literally just babysitting.” toji rolls his eyes. “you can be so tightly wound up, sometimes…” toji moves behind you again, and starts rubbing your shoulders lightly. you hate to admit it, but jesus that feels so good. 

“still! i can’t be on some shit while with megumi…” you say, defending yourself but slowly losing your rigor as toji really hits a knot on your shoulder that involuntarily makes you let out a moan. oh, fuck. you can practically feel the smile grow on his face as he hits the spot again. you bite your lip this time to hold in the moan. 

“well, you’re not with megumi, right now, right?” you’ve long stopped mixing the brownie mix, and you turn your head to face toji, meeting him just inches away from his lips. you suck in a breath. 

“i guess not…what are you trying to say?” you boldly ask, your eyes not leaving his lips. 

“i’m trying to say…” toji brings his lips even closer to you. “it’s probably gonna be easier for us to finish our cold ass taco bell if we smoke a little joint together in the backyard, pumpkin.” you answer him by pressing your lips to his, initiating a deep kiss between the two of you. 

“i’m taking that as a yes,” toji says, in between kisses. he pulls you closer, and you turn yourself around and lock your arms over his neck, pulling him even closer to you as you respond by moaning into his lips. toji breaks off the kiss, chuckling at your frown. “patience, pumpkin…” he coos as he opens up a random cabinet in the kitchen and pulls out a ziploc baggie of a couple joints. he takes one out,  grabs a lighter from a drawer with one hand, and your hand in the other and guides you to the backyard right outside. he lights it up and takes the first drag from it, and exhales. ugh, why does he look sooo hot while smoking? it’s unfair. 

if you were this horny completely sober, you’re fucked for the night. despite knowing this, you accept the joint from toji and take a hit, letting the smoke lightly irritate your lungs before letting it all go. you really did try to play it as cool as toji when you exhaled, but you ended up coughing. heat rushes to your face as you feel toji patting your back and chuckling. 

“stop, this normally doesn’t happen, okay,” you plead between coughs. “i just don’t smoke that much.” another embarrassing cough at the end of it. 

“whatever you say, pumpkin.” toji coos as he continues to effortlessly smoke the joint with zero coughs. it makes you jealous how perfect he looks in the pale moonlight, blowing smoke out. his face relaxes with each puff, as does yours, as you both slowly lean into the buzzed feeling. 

after a couple minutes of passing the joint to one another in silence, toji extinguishes it by slowly knocking it against the outdoor table. back inside the kitchen, there’s still the brownies that need to be put inside the already pre-heated oven. 

“okay, how about you heat up the food, and i put the brownies in the oven?” you instruct toji as you carefully transfer the brownie mix into the tray. you’re definitely high right now, but you just have to use your brain for like, 3 more minutes, before you can turn it off and enjoy the night with toji, who’s currently heating up your dinner. he grabs the tray from you before you can pick it up. 

“i’ll put it inside the oven, don’t want you to get burned handling the oven while a lil stoned. just open it and take a seat.” he instructs, head gesturing to the oven. it makes your heart skip a beat as you do what he says. you wait patiently as toji brings out the food, admiring his large and built physique. has he gotten even bigger since the last time you saw him? maybe you should ask if he wants to help you work out even though you can’t remember the last time you stepped foot inside the gym. you gulp and force yourself to think of something else, and the waft of the taco bell easily melts away your horny thoughts as the munchies slowly start to kick in for you. 

you immediately start destroying your food, as toji grabs the remote to turn on…great british bakeoff? you didn’t know toji was into food television, and now that you think of it, food related tv shows are usually the most family friendly ones, too. toji senses your confusion and clears the air. 

“listen, it’s interesting, okay?” he says, defensively as he chows down on his tacos, eyes not leaving the screen as paul hollywood explains the technical challenge. 

“i’m not judging!” you’re judging a little bit. “i think it’s cute you’re into such soft dilfy tv shows…” you giggle. 

“what makes ‘great british bakeoff’ dilfy?” 

“i dunno, it’s just a dad thing to watch.” you say in between bites. 

the rest of your dinner consists of conversations around toji’s tv show interests (he watches a lot of hgtv and a weird common ground between the two of you is selling sunset) and the current episode of great british bakeoff (you feel bad even offering to bake brownies after watching their baking skills). 

you laugh when toji says he hated the time he went traveling to london (“i didn’t understand a single thing they said and their seafood is just awful!”). “you can’t judge them just by a single bad trip, toji,” you chastise, rolling your eyes. you take a bite out of a cinnabon delight and the cream oozes out around your lips. you’re about to quickly wipe it off, when you catch toji looking intently at you. 

“hold on, let me help.” he wastes no time leaning towards you, suddenly forgetting about the tv show, and licks it off your mouth and you’re not sure when you both start kissing but you were. it seemed so natural to fall into it, cinnabon in one hand and your other tugging on his hair. 

“you taste like cinnabons,” toji murmurs against your lips. 

you let out a small moan, “it’s because i was eating one…until….” the sound of the tv drown out the smacks of your lips and your quiet moans. 

“sorry, should i stop?” toji breaks the kiss and tugs on your lower lip playfully, and you moan due to the loss of contact. your hand, still resting on his head, forces him back on your lips as you hungrily open your mouth and let his tongue explore yours. 

you’re about to say more but, but you’re both interrupted by the timer going off in the kitchen, indicating the brownies are finished. the sound startles both of you and toji breaks off the kiss as you catch your breath. you both get up, the high slowly plateauing for the both of you since getting some food in your stomachs. toji carefully takes out the freshly baked and hot brownies and places them on the granite countertop. 

“god, they smell so good…” you say, practically salivating. 

“i know they’re for megs, but…i mean, it wouldn’t hurt if we just ate one, right?” toji surmises, already grabbing a knife and slicing off two small pieces for the both of you. 

“yeah, they won’t even notice.” you’re about to eat your brownie piece, when toji stops you. 

“wait, got somethin’ that’s gonna make this even better.” he strides over to the fridge and pulls out a can of whipped cream. “we can have fun with this.” 

you know he doesn’t mean it in a sexual way (or does he?) but you definitely read more into it, your heart beating faster thinking of all the dirty things you can do with the whipped cream, but first, your brain is begging you to try just a bite of the brownie before giving into your horny thoughts. you watch toji swirl a bit of whipped cream on his brownie before handing the can to you. you match him, albeit, a bit more messily. the whipped cream gets on your hands and on the plate, but you pay no mind to it as you both inhale the brownie bite at the same time. 

you do a terrible job at holding back a moan at the sweet fudgy and warm bite. “oh my god…not to toot my own horn but these are the best brownies i’ve ever had.” you say with your mouthful and toji nods in agreement. 

“megs is gonna love this tomorrow morning but he’s gonna hate us for trying a bite without him,” toji jokes. immediately after finishing his brownie, he grabs your whipped cream-laced finger and brings it to his mouth and starts sucking on it, causing you to gasp. he licks the whipped cream clean, and kisses the tips of your fingers. 

“someone’s still hungry for something sweet,” you tease, grabbing the can of whipped cream, opening your mouth, and spraying some on your tongue. you stand on your tippy toes and toji leans down and gives you an open mouth kiss. his tongue engulfs yours and exchanges the whipped cream between both of your mouths, the sweetness driving your hunger for him  even more. if you saw anyone else do this, it would make you gag, but with toji, you cannot deny how erotic it is and how incredibly soaked you are. the sweetest kiss (literally) you’ve ever had comes to an end as toji pulls back and grabs the whipped cream container.

“actually…” toji lifts you up with one arm and sets on top of the granite countertop of his kitchen. “i want something sweeter…” he brings the nozzle to your neck, which you gladly tilt for him to make space, and you feel the coldness of the whipped cream being applied on your neck. jesus fucking christ, you’re so sensitive there. you shiver at the contact. your eyes roll so far back in your head and you let out the most obscene moan when toji licks a long stripe across the whipped cream in your neck, and sucks on your skin at the end of it. you feel the vibrations of toji’s humming against your neck and you close your eyes in pleasure. 

“f-fuck~ toji…m’so sensitive there…when you lick it, ah~” toji wastes no time placing some more whipped cream on your neck and repeating the same motion as you moan again at the contact of his tongue on your neck. 

“fuck, pumpkin, i could just eat you up, right now,” toji says through raspy sighs. he’s practically inhaling you – your warmth, your scent, everything. he can’t get enough of you, with or without whipped cream. with or without clothes, too but preferably without. “gotta take this off,” toji says, tugging at the hem of your sweater.

“yes, daddy,” you say coyly as you bite your lip. you waste no time throwing the sweatshirt somewhere across the kitchen. you sit on the granite counter with your titties on full display, your nipples slowly getting harder by the second. 

“tsk, no bra?” toji immediately connects his lips to your collarbones as he covers you in small open mouthed kisses until he reaches your sternum and feels your chest moving with your heavy breaths. your knuckles are turning white gripping the edges of the countertop. “you’re such a fuckin’ slut showing up here without one…what did you expect to happen?” he teases you even further as he starts kissing lightly your mounds. 

your breath gets caught in your throat as you pathetically try to defend your decision to not wear a bra tonight. “i-i- toji~ y-you said y-you would cook for me and t-take care of me…” you’re looking down at him and he looks back up at you. you close the gap between your mouths as you engulf him in another kiss and wrap your legs around him, unapologetically bringing him even closer to you. you scoot yourself even closer to the edge of the granite counter so that your heat was as close as it could get to him without you falling off the countertop and you start grinding on him, desperate to feel something. 

with the whipped cream can still in his hand, toji breaks off the kiss, and you notice a string of saliva connecting you both. “patience, pumpkin…” he mumbles as he shakes the can. he sprays two little buttons of whipped cream on each of your nipples, which are both hard right now, and it makes you shiver viscerally. toji engulfs one of your cream covered buds and starts sucking messily, causing you to whimper embarrassingly loudly. thank god the tv noise is drowning out your noises. 

once he’s cleaned up one of your breasts, he moves on to the next one, expertly using his tongue in quick flicks against your hardened bud. you feel like your skin is on fire despite the cream being cold and you lightly tug on toji’s hair, pressing his face even closer to your breasts. it’s harder to keep your eyes open because of the pleasure that’s electrifying your body, and your moans are slowly filling up the room. 

“fuck, y’taste so sweet…” toji says in between kissing your titties, alternating between each one and making sure not a single smear of cream was left. “can’t believe this is what i missed out on…”

“p-please, toji~” you whine, “n-need more of you…” you’re not one to be insistent, but you find your hands on toji’s shoulders and they’re slowly pushing him down to face your soaked shorts. 

“need my tongue in your pussy? need daddy to take care of this pretty perfect pussy?” toji teases you by grazing his thumb over your clothed clit, making you involuntarily flinch and whimper. tears of desperation threaten to spill as you quickly nod your head and mouth a weak “please”. 

“take this off.” toji commands, his fingers playing with the waistband of your shorts. he doesn’t have to ask you twice as your shorts practically slide off of you. your ass hits the cold granite and you yelp, but not for long as toji swiftly picks you up and lays you down on the dining room table. your legs automatically spread open wide as he takes a seat on the dining chair and comes face to face to your unclothed soaking core. you hear toji swear under his breath as his pupils dilate at the sight of you completely bare for him on his dining table. 

you won’t lie – you feel extremely exposed compared to toji who’s completely clothed, but it just turns you on even more at how desperate you get for him to touch you. you’re so needy for his touch, his tongue, his fingers, everything. and just thinking about it makes your wetness drip on his dining table. your eyes roll back so far, you arch your back in pleasure from just feeling toji’s hot breath in your inner thigh. 

“p-please, toji~ no teasing…i can’t stand it~” you cry, bucking your hips closer to toji’s face. you need his mouth on you so bad it’s making you go insane as you hyperventilate and blink back tears. 

your eyes are facing the ceiling, but you feel toji shaking the whipped cream can. before you realize what’s happening, toji’s spraying another button of cold cream on your clit, and temperature causes your body to twitch. toji’s hands grab each side of your hips to hold them still, effectively forcing your legs to stay open while he finally dines on the dessert he’s been waiting all night for. 

toji licks a long strip across your folds, until he reaches your bundle of nerves and rests below a small hill of cream. the cream mixes into your core, and toji eats it up like he’s never had anything sweeter (and he hasn’t). your wanton moans get louder and louder as he dives even deeper into your core, his tongue expertly not leaving any cream to waste. 

“if you’re gonna be this loud, pumpkin, m’gonna gag you so shut the fuck up.” …was that supposed to be a threat to you? in any case, you bite your lips to stop block your moans, letting out raspy whimpers at toji’s ministrations. you feel toji’s fingers slowly creeping near your entrance and you buckle your hips futilely against his arms holding you down, in an effort to beg for more. 

toji inserts one, maybe two, you’re not sure how many fingers are inside you by the time you feel the coil tightening in your lower abdomen. your mind, already high from before, turns into mush in the face of your rising heart rate. toji hears your whimpers getting louder and your pussy clenching around his curled fingers bullying your g-spot. 

“t-toji~ m’getting close…” you say through mangled moans. tears threaten to spill as you strain to hold back until toji gives you permission. “can-can i, please?”

“can you what? use your words, pumpkin…” toji says, speeding up his fingers inside you. 

“can-can i cum, please, toji~” you whine. 

“anything for you, pumpkin. cum your brains out…” toji uses his thumb to apply the final pressure to your bundle of nerves, causing you to come undone on his fingers, and making a mess on his dining table. you don’t even have time to feel bad about it because toji starts bullying your g-spot again, leaving no time for you to recover. 

he swiftly stands up, and you feel the tent in his sweats against your thigh  as he reaches over to cover your mouth. you feel the back of your  head pressing against the hard dining room table, but it does an effective job of mumbling your scream at the overstimulation toji was giving to your pussy. your eyes roll back as he uses his thumb again to circle your clit and apply pressure. the tears you tried to hold back this entire time stream down your cheeks as you feel your body on fire after not recovering from your first orgasm. you see toji’s cruel smile as he coos at how well you take his fingers. 

“ohh, i know it’s a lot, pumpkin, but i know you can give me a second one, maybe even a third?” your eyes widen at the thought of three consecutive orgasms – you’ve never been able to do that even on your own! toji chuckles mockingly, his hands tightening around your mouth even more as he feels the signature clenching of your pussy on his fingers. he knows you're close and so do you. 

“cum for me, i know you're close, don’t hold back for me.” and you don’t. if his hand wasn’t on your mouth, you’re sure the neighbors and megumi, and maybe everyone in the neighborhood would have woken up at how drawn out your scream was. 

you’re unable to form a coherent thought as toji continues to keep his fingers inside you, caressing your g-spot and keeping up his end of his promise of making you cum three times in a row. it’s embarrassing how fast you cum the third time – it’s almost immediately and you feel yourself making a complete wet mess everywhere as your legs shake even though toji removed his fingers from you. 

toji unclamps your mouth and your breathy moans start back up again as you watch him put his soaked fingers in his mouth. “wanna taste y’self, pumpkin…so sweet…” you pathetically nod your head as toji inserts his fingers inside your mouth and you start sucking involuntarily, tasting yourself on him. he pushes his fingers deeper in you, but you hold them back. 

“want to taste you…toji, wanna suck you off…” you whine, wishing desperately his fingers were something else. 

“soon, not finished with your pussy yet.” toji takes his shirt off, and you lift your head up to admire his body. his toned and chiseled abs have a thin layer of sheen from concentrating on making you cum. you bite your lip and make eye contact with him, as he reaches down and palms his rock hard member over his sweats. you feel your mouth water in anticipation of having it in your mouth, but toji has different plans. 

toji lowers the waistband of his short and underwear, and his throbbing member springs up. with one hand, toji starts slowly jerking himself off, and with the other, he brings your pussy closer to the edge of the table. he places your legs on his shoulder, and they find a comfortable place resting on them. he gives a quick kiss to both of your ankles before rubbing the tip of cock against your slick folds, teasing your entrance. 

“nghh~ toji no teasing!” you pout, your pussy suddenly eager to take his pulsating cock inside you after being stretched by his fingers for so long. 

“okay, fine.” he says bluntly with a smirk as he slides his entire length into you, bottoming out. it takes you by surprise and he anticipates your loud moans as he once again uses one of his hands to cover your mouth and mangle your moans. 

“shh, you can take it, pumpkin, i know you can.” he waits a couple seconds for you to adjust to his length, but in all honesty, no amount of time could have helped you get used to how big he was and how full he made you feel. 

“ngh~ so big,” you complain through his hand on your mouth, as you struggle to keep your breathing normal and your moans at a normal volume. you clench involuntarily around him, and toji takes a seething breath through his teeth while scrunching his eyes. 

“fuck, pumpkin. you cannot do that, m’gonna cum on the fucking spot…” toji says, practically having to count backwards in his head to prevent himself from cumming just by inserting himself into you. “how are you still so fuckin’ tight after i fucked your brains out last time…” 

he slowly starts moving back and forth, and unclamps your mouth. he snakes one arm around one of your thighs and the other gripping your ankle next to face and forcing your legs further apart. you feel so exposed in front of him, but you can’t even complain, as toji quickens his pace inside you. you think you’re seeing stars in your vision, or maybe it’s because you’re still a bit high. your mind and body is still fucked out from your three massive orgasms previously, so you can’t make much of the things toji is saying to you. 

“y’take me so well, pumpkin…”

“feel ya clenchin’ on me again…gonna cum again? four times? such a greedy little slut…” toji clenches his teeth as he prepares for your fourth orgasm on his leaking member that’s actively fucking your brains out. you feel the familiar wave building up inside you, and it’s even stronger than the other three you had.

“fuck toji~ i feel so close…m’gonna cum, please…i-i can’t hold it b-back….” by the time you cum, you’re a babbling mess, and it takes toji everything inside of him to not cum inside you at the same time. his eyes are looking at you, fully focused on your pleasure as he thumbs your clit to help you ride the wave. you clench on him, hard, and he lets out a throaty groan. he knows he’s not gonna last much longer inside you, especially if he’s going to be watching your titties bounce back and forth with every thrust. 

“where d’ya want me to cum, pumpkin, m’close…” toji says through short, jagged breaths. you see beads of sweat on his concentrated face and his brows twitching as he’s pressed against you, keeping a consistent pace of hitting deep inside you. 

you don’t have much energy left, but you manage to croak out your one request of the night. “wanna suck you off…wanna have you cum inside my mouth…”

toji wastes no time obliging to your request, as he slows down and detaches himself from you. you weakly get up off the dining table, your legs still shaky from your orgasms, as you manage to get down on your knees in front him. he looks so pretty with his head thrown back and his eyebrows scrunched as he’s jerking himself off. he opens his eyes to see you looking back up at him, and he gingerly tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. your grasp on his leaking and throbbing member as he lets go, and you grab the can of whipped cream from the table and start shaking it. 

you place a little bit along the tip of his shaft, lick it off, causing toji to groan. you do it again. and again. your tongue takes small , sweet licks off his tip, and you feel him trying to buckle his hips into your mouth. it makes you boldly giggle at how desperate he is to get off inside your mouth. 

“y-you don’t get to tease, pumpkin, even when you’re the one sucking me off…” toji says between clenched teeth. with his hands, he creates a makeshift ponytail with your hair and forces his entire length inside you, causing you to gag on him. he starts fucking your mouth, and you feel the mascara tears falling down as you expertly control your gag reflex to take his length in. your tongue swirls as his cock is inside your mouth and you bob your head back and forth, determined to bring pleasure to the hardness of his arousal. 

toji’s thrusts inside your mouth are getting sloppier and messier, and you know he’s getting close. toji knows he’s coming undone in mere seconds, and he lets you know he’s about to spill all over your mouth, face, chin, everywhere. he cums inside your mouth and it drives him insane at how well you milk his member. you make eye contact with him as his warm seed squirts into your mouth, doing your best to swallow every drop of him. whatever you miss is dripping down your chin on to your thighs, and you hear toji’s breath return to a normal pace as he slows down. you feel his member softening and you stop sucking him and catch your breath. 

“fuck, pumpkin, how did you get so good at sucking me off…” toji says, catching his breath. you look at him demurely as you swipe his cum off your chin lick off your fingers, making a show of it by bringing your tongue out dramatically. 

“dunno, i just do…” you say, and toji shakes his head, chuckling. 

“you’re such a fuckin’ slut, pumpkin…” toji mumbles, before helping you up and peppering your face with kisses. he sees you shivering and he quickly helps you sit on the couch while he grabs a warm towel to help wipe you off and gathers both of your clothes that were strewn across the kitchen. he helps dress you before he does himself. 

“wait…was the tv playing this whole time?” you ask, confused at how many episodes of great british bakeoff must’ve been on autoplay since you guys stopped watching. 

toji laughs. “oh my god, it must’ve been playing the entire time. wait, quickly, hand me the remote, i don’t wanna know spoilers.” he quickly pauses the show and goes back to the netflix home page. god, it’s so cute he cares so much about that show. toji tosses you a blanket as he takes a seat next to you and goes back a couple episodes to where you guys stopped watching. you cuddle closer to him as you both watch the episode in silence. you feel toji’s fingers massaging your scalp softly, and you lean your head deeper into his broad shoulders, practically melting into his body. 

your eyelids feel heavier by the minute, and you try your hardest to stay awake. you need to know who got the paul hollywood handshake. you’re not entirely sure when you drift off, but it can’t have been more than a couple minutes. toji notices and finishes up the episode before slowly carrying you (quite easily) up the stairs into his bedroom, where he tucks you in and cuddles you from behind. 

he’ll never mention it to you, but by the time he’s in bed ready to sleep, he can feel himself hardening again against your ass as he spoons you. so fuckin’ inconvenient, he thinks, as he tries to think of anything else to try to sleep next to your passed out body. 

[utopiastri]

hiiii!

soooo i read and reread all your f1 fics.

since they are all so effing amazing, well written, funny when needed, you must have a great taste in fics. sooo do you maybe, perhaps have any landoscar fic recommendations??

have a mega day!

-💫

hi 💫 anon!!! this was. the absolute loveliest ask to wake up to this morning so thank you SO much for sending it 💕💕💕💕💕

you are so kind and please know all of these compliments have absolutely made my day!!!!!

and GOD i would LOVE to give some landoscar fic recommendations, there is nothing i love more than talking about authors i adore

i very much started rambling about these fics so i'm putting my recs below the cut!

ok immediately we're off to a rogue start because i'm going to recommend a fic that isn't posted yet but @1425fivefive's upcoming fic Learned Behavior is just honestly going to be one of the best things you will ever read - i have been honoured to receive SO many wonderful snippets from it and every single one is just as amazing as the others and i am SO excited to see the full thing

i am legally and contractually obligated to put three-sixteenths by @ipleadbritney on here because i am actually three-sixteenths' biggest fan and as part of that it is in fact my job to make sure everyone has read one of the most DELIGHTFUL magical realism fics of all time, one that fills me with such joy every time i think about it, let alone read it

by love remembered by @lellabellas is just. i LOVE fairytales so much and the way this is such a gorgeous homage to fairytales whilst also being one of the most wonderful fanfics you will ever read is honestly just. a sign of talent of truly the highest degree!!!!

brevity is the soul of wit by a_new_anon because i absolutely have to recommend one of the absolute CUTEST texting fics i have ever read. i grinned my entire way through reading it and i cannot recommend highly enough oh my GOD

the devil in me by @its-all-papaya because who am i as a person if i'm not constantly Obsessed with the idea of jealous oscar piastri. GOD this fic has everything - including one of my favourite final lines of any fic like. ever

AND on top of all of these, because i am a firm believer in showing love and affection to tumblr drabbles as well, please have a few of my favourites of those as well:

I'll Wait (I'm Sorry) by @wanderingblindly because liquid reblogged this again recently and this version of landoscar has NOT LEFT MY BRAIN SINCE!!! i reread it and had to sit down lest i faint. concept of all time i fear!!!!!!!

fireworks - prompt by @foggieststars because every so often i think about what landoscar will be like when they're no longer teammates and then i remember it doesn't matter because i can just think about one of the Sweetest drabbles i have ever read about lando and oscar dealing with oscar leaving and i am calm again

immortal - osctober prompt by @nyoomfruits because sad immortal vampire oscar has actually been haunting me for the last month and i am still SO SAD ABOUT IT (but like. in a good way obviously)

ok i will cut myself off there but !!!!! anon thank you so much for allowing me to ramble on about all this writing i love so much!!!! and thank you again for the kind words 💕💕💕

also if anyone would like to not be tagged, please let me know!!!

[herecirmsims]

Questions For Storytellers

I have (I think) finally caught up on my list of poses to make, so I wanted to do something a little fun (for me, not for anyone else LMAO) and entirely self-indulgent. I read stories and tell my own over on Instagram, but of course it's harder to post long-form text like this over there.

Special thanks to @freezerbnuuy as I'm copying their post. ❤️

What’s the last screenshot you’ve taken for your story?

This is from the middle of my last post, but it's the last screenshot I took because I went back and added this scene in after finally caving and making my own stupid poses for it hahah.

2. Describe your story in three words or less: Needlessly long tbh

3. Describe (insert character here) in three words or less: Uhhh I'll pick Saxen since he's my MC... wet cat energy (which I think is something @nefaricussims said actually??). Or "90s cocaine chic" as @southernsimmin so beautifully described him. 🤣

4. How did you choose the name of your story? It's called The Cottage because it's... based in and around a cottage. 🥲 I have a very imaginative mind!! 🤣 But also, the cottage plays an important role throughout the whole story and especially in the upcoming finale.

5. How do you choose your characters’ names? My Sim story is based on a novel I never had the confidence to finish - in that version, Sax is an ælf based on Anglo-Saxon belief. I made him a vampire in Sims because that was the only pack I owned at the time, besides base game, and for gameplay purposes I thought vamp put him close to how I imagined him. I now realise I could have easily used CC and my own damn imagination to make him an ælf but I didn't know much about CC at the time, either. 🤣 Because of this, the original story leant into fae lore and the stuff about never revealing your true name. Saxen isn't his real name anyway, but for an added layer it also isn't spelt how you might imagine if you heard it spoken. The same for Thom and Jac who are also characters who came over from the 'original'.

6. How long have you been working on your story for? A little over three years! I have learned soooo much in that time.

7. Whats the biggest risk you’ve taken with your story? Did it pay off? I dunno that I've taken any risks, other than putting it out there in the first place.

8. What about your story are you proud of? I think the fact it exists at all. I've been writing stories since I was a kid, but at some point I lost confidence in myself and have never finished anything/wanted to share it with people because I end up overthinking and deleting it. So I am proud of myself for having maintained a continuous story for three years, and for having other people read it. I think because there was no pressure with a Sims story - with a novel I kept thinking, this has to be perfect and polished so that I can publish it someday. With a Sims story, I'm free to just write the silly tropes I enjoy and allow myself to suck and learn and get better at it.

9. What about your story are you looking to improve on? I read a fantastic article about ma - including pauses in your visual storytelling, space for the characters to sit and breath and reflect. It's ma that makes Ghibli movies so wonderfully distinctive. Being able to make my own poses means that I can show a character's expression or body language in response to a situation, without the need for overlaying text. I'm trying really hard to move away from the "talking heads" style that reads more like a script, and letting the visuals tell the story for me instead. I'm not very good at it because I enjoy my blah blah, but it's fun to try!!

10. Is your story fully planned or are you still working things out? Is there a definitive end? I'm approaching the end of it now, which has been planned for the last three years, so yes - I know pretty much everything that's going to happen. Sometimes the characters still throw a little surprise for me though.

11. Why have you decided to tell this story? Are there any messages or meanings within it? When I got the Sims almost 4 years ago, I had absolutely no idea that there was a) a whole community around it or b) that people used it for storytelling. I'd already made Sax, Thom, and Jac in the game, because I'd wanted to see them come to life during gameplay. Then I discovered poses and started sharing random staged screenshots on Instagram, and became friends with the exceptionally talented TheSimmerKay (now making machinimas!) who showed interest in my silly little characters and suggested that I try telling a story too. I owe her a lot!! As for messages and meaning... I'm very interested in what makes people do the things they do, and how the hero of a story often depends on whose POV we're hearing the story from. There's a fine line between hero and villain sometimes, and a hero acting out of love can cross from protectiveness into control.

12. Do you actually play the game or do you just use it as a storytelling medium? Yep - I have a designated story save, which is the one I take all my screenshots in and which never has gameplay. Then I have a Happy Ever After save for Sax and Fen and another save for for my Globetrotter Challenge Sim, both of which are gameplay only. I think it's important to have that outlet; I can work on my story, make poses, or just play the game, depending on what I fancy.

13. From basic planning to a finished post, how long does that take you? 2-3 evenings. I tend to get everything laid out and text added, then let it sit for a day because I inevitably think of a way to do something better if I give it chance to breath. 🤣

14. Do you have any regrets about your story so far? If you could go back in time, how would you fix these? Not regrets, really, but there are some threads that I put in - fully intending to complete them later in the story - but never did, due to them just not fitting with the story or wanting to try and bring things to an end sooner. But similarly, there are times when I was going to put in a little hint or foreshadowing in and didn't, and then later in my story have wished I had! The tricky part of serialised storytelling is you have to just live with what you have (or don't have), you can't go back and remove or add scenes like you would with a drafted novel.

15. What have been the highlights of creating your story? I've met so many incredible people due to it, oh my goodness. Truly extraordinary Simmers who've shared their time and knowledge with me. We have a little mutual reading group on Insta where we all read and geek out over each other's stories and it's just wonderful. I was honestly shocked when i went to other platforms and realised how much drama there can be in the Sims community. 🤣

16. What about the process do you enjoy? Not that I don't enjoy the process... but I mostly love it when it's finished and I can share it, hahaha.

17. What about the process do you hate? I don't hate any of it... it's a hobby and I do it because I enjoy it. That being said, it does fuck me off when I have multiple Sims in a scene, everyone is in place and has poses queued, and then MCCC Dresser FREEZES MY GAME NOOOOOOOO WHY

18. Choose a song that reminds you of your story:

This is the unofficial theme... specifically this version in Old English, which is Saxen's first language. "It's our destiny then to find love again / Where we failed once before now we'll win"

19. Choose a song that reminds you of (insert character here):

Another one for Sax I guess because he's special. 😌🤣 "But you, a cinder of the fire that's yet to come / Will you just sit and mourn this fragile thing that you've become / Or instead will you consume the very things you can't outrun / Until you finally see all of the strength that you draw from?"

20. Choose your favourite shot from your story so far: Hmmm I think this one, which was me being lazy and reusing a screenshot from an older scene during a flashback-style narration. 🤣 I was trying to achieve something else with the editing but did this by accident and liked it.

21. Choose your least favourite shot so far: Too many to pick from LMAO

22. Choose a favourite character from your story so far: Sax, obviously, he's my lil chew toy/punching bag. But then there's also Idris, for whom I only wish the best. She's going through some trouble right now and I don't enjoy it. It's much more fun to bully Sax.

23. Choose your least favourite character so far: I don't have one! Although Vlad makes me deeply uncomfortable tbh. I find him to be a really creepy villain, and unlike any of my other villains, he's not in any way misrepresented or redeemable. I'm using a makeover version of him by WistfulCastle (I would link, but I don't think he's available anymore?)!

24. Are there any characters who remind you of yourself? No... well. Whenever baby El randomly info-dumps on a niche subject, that's mostly me taking advantage of a captive audience to tell them about karkadanns or medieval torture items or dead bodies on Everest. 🥲

25. What inspirations have you drawn on for your story? I honestly don't know - I can't name anything that I've consciously drawn on, though I know for sure I must have. Funnily enough people have told me things like "oh that's like in Vampire Diaries" or "that's like that part in the Harry Potter films" and I haven't watched either of those, so I think what's happening is we're all drawing from the same well of folklore and mythology and trope. There is occasional story drama about being copied and the thing is... unpopular opinion alert... many of us aren't as unique as we think we are. 😅 What we are unique at is taking a trope and telling it in our own distinctive way. No one else can tell your story quite like you can.

26. Have other sim stories inspired you? I have soooo many talented friends who inspire me to do better when it comes to visuals and storytelling!! @callmedomino is the queen of silent storytelling and a huge inspiration on my journey to discover ma. I really love how well she can tell a story with no words.

27. What genres would you describe your story as? I call it rural fantasy lmao

28. If you could reproduce your story in another medium (movie, novel, comic, etc.) what would you choose and why? I mean obviously I'd say movie because HOW COOL would that be?! Especially an animated one!

29. What would your story’s rating be? (G, PG, M etc.) Ummm probably M because there is the occasional spicy scene. Sometimes three a year LMAO.

30. If you were leaving simblr Simsta and had to choose another creator to continue the story for you, who would you ask? Well tbh I've given Sax and Fen to several good friends already; some of them have them in ongoing cameos in their own stories. I wouldn't ask anyone to continue mine, but I like to think that Sax and Fen could live on in my friend's stories and games if anything were to ever happen to me.

31. Drop some random trivia about your story: When I started I only meant to do short, random vignettes about daily life at the cottage. Somehow it snowballed into a three year epic. 🤣

32. Give a light spoiler: "This is who I am. If I was any other way, I would not be myself."

[lovestay-channie]

Belated Birthday- Hyunjin Imagine

Pairing: Hyunjin x gn!reader

Genre: fluff fluff fluff

Summary: it's been a month since hyunjin's birthday, and you decide to surprise him <3

Word Count: 830+

Warning: n/a

A/N: a late birthday post for hyunjin! i'm sorry i haven't been writing as much as i used to. i hope you enjoy this belated birthday post!

Long distance relationships are never easy, especially when someone is an idol. You are very grateful for technology so you can FaceTime Hyunjin on his secret iPhone he still has. It was Hyunjin’s birthday last month, but Hyunjin’s schedule didn’t allow you two to see each other. You tried to coordinate celebrating during his holiday break, but you had multiple work trips that didn’t allow you to be together. Therefore, you decided to surprise him. 

Schedules finally cleared up for you, and you wanted to do something for Hyunjin not only for his birthday but for all the hard work he has been doing. You texted Hyunjin before his schedules started, telling him to come to your apartment when he is done at 8PM. You baked him a small, simple cake, blew up pink and white balloons, put on a birthday hat, and had a popper in your hands. Your present was waiting for him on the table next to the cake. Nerves started to build in your stomach as time was reaching closer to when he is supposed to arrive. The little surprise had to be perfect. Time hasn’t been kind to you both, and you wanted this to be special for him. 

Ding dong. 

The doorbell rang. He is here. You take a deep breath before you shout, “Come in Hyunnie!” Right as Hyunjin walks through the door, you pop the popper in your hand. “Surprise!!” 

Hyunjin’s face brightened at the setup you have for him. His cheeks turn pink as he sees you with your cute birthday hat that was definitely made for a child’s head. “Baaaabe! What are you doing?” he says, walking to you with open arms. 

You wrap your arms around his middle. “I wanted to celebrate your birthday properly.”

“We already celebrated my birthday though,” he says, kissing your cheek. 

“Yeah through a video call!” you pout. 

“Being with you is all that matters, near or far,” he smiles. You roll your eyes and tuck your face into his chest. He giggles and squeezes you tighter, leaving a kiss on your forehead. He turns his head to the kitchen table. “Is that a cake?” 

You pull away from his arms, “Yes it is! You want a piece?”

He nods his head frantically and skips to the kitchen. You follow behind him and grab a knife. You slice the cake to place them on paper plates. Hyunjin pulls out a chair to sit down. He takes a bite of the cake, making his cute “Hmm” noise as he eats. “This is yummy!” 

“I’m glad!” you say, taking a bite of your cake. 

Hyunjin’s eyes scan over to the pink wrapping paper next to him. He picks it up and glances at you with a questioning look. “Is this for me?” he asks.

“We aren’t celebrating my birthday,” you tease. 

He chuckles at your sarcasm before pushing his cake to the side to have his present in front of him. He picks up the card that was taped to the top of the box that hid new paint supplies you got from Paris. He carefully opens the envelope to see a homemade card. It was simple, white with little flower doodles surrounding the handwritten words ‘Happy Birthday Hyunnie’. 

“I wrote this before your birthday. I wanted to send it to you so it would arrive on your birthday, but I was too late to the post office. So, here it is now!” you explain. 

He smiles fondly at the card before reading. 

My Dearest Hyunjin,

As the sun rises on this enchanting day, I am filled with an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the gift of your presence in my life. Today, as we celebrate the anniversary of your birth, I am reminded of the countless reasons why you are not just my partner but also my soulmate and my greatest treasure.

Your birthday is a beautiful reminder of the light you bring into the world, illuminating even the darkest corners with your infectious laughter, boundless compassion, and unwavering love. With each passing year, you become more extraordinary, more inspiring, and more deserving of all the happiness and love this world has to offer. I am forever inspired by you. 

On this special day, I want to express my deepest admiration for the incredible person you are and my unending devotion to the journey we share together. May this day be filled with laughter, joy, and unforgettable moments, and may the year ahead be brimming with blessings, adventures, and endless love. Happy birthday, my love. Here's to celebrating you today and every day, now and forever.

With all my heart,

Y/N

Tears form on Hyunjin’s waterline. His chin quivers as he reaches the end of the letter. He puts the letter back in the envelope and pulls you into a tight hug. “That was the most beautiful thing I have ever read,” he says, pulling away to cradle your face. “I love you so much, Y/N. For eternity, I will love you.” He pulls your face to give you a longing, gentle kiss. 

You pull away slowly, “I love you for eternity, too. Happy belated birthday Hyunnie.”

© lovestay-channie (2024) - please do not repost. all rights are reserved.

[whrthewindgoes]

This is my first fic, this will be a lengthy, slow burn kind of series if all goes well. I’ve had this story idea for quite some time and I’m very nervous to finally post it! I also don’t know what I’m doing with Tumblr, so bear with me! Please be kind ☺️ I’m looking forward to writing this series. 18+ only, minors do NOT interact.

Third Wheel

Series Summary: After a terrible break up with your boyfriend of 5 years, you plan a long visit to Cincinnati to visit your cousin Ja’Marr. This was meant to be a time to catch up and make up for lost time, but no one could predict you’d fall in love with his long time friend and teammate.

Chapter Summary: You arrive in Ohio for the first time, excited and anxious for everything to come.

Series Warnings: Angst, mentions of anxiety, mentions of cheating, fluff, smut, alcohol, weed (that’s all I can think of right now!)

Chapter Warnings: Angst and anxiety

Prologue

You could barely contain your excitement when your oversized luggage hit the ground after picking it up from the airport turnstile. You rolled your bag away in a hurry, weary of the time as your cousin had been waiting at the arrivals area for quite some time after your delayed flight. You took a deep breath, walking swiftly through the very busy airport on this cloudy Saturday morning. It was March in the midwest, and while it wasn’t the coldest— the warm, sunny weather hadn’t come to stay just yet. You were dressed in yoga pants with your cozy tan Uggs, and an olive green oversized hoodie. Your curly hair was in a messy bun, allowing your best facial features to be highlighted on display.

You stopped in your tracks to pull your phone out of your pocket, quickly opening your messaging app to text, “Just got my bag! Where are you?!” You headed to the nearest exit, stepping out of the door. You looked from left to right at all of the cars that were lined up in the arrivals area, none of the vehicles striking familiarity to you. “Hey, over here Kenz!” You jogged your way over to your cousin Ja’Marr, slightly surprised at how much he had changed since you last saw him. “Oh my god, Marr!!!” You embraced each other in a tight hug, both of you taken by surprise at how much the other has changed physically. Ja’Marr was your first cousin on your mom’s side, and you grew up extremely close, as you both were the only child. Although you both had many blatant differences, especially with you being from a mixed family, you and Ja’Marr always saw eye to eye and were two teas in a pod. Ja’Marr was a couple of years younger than you, but he always acted like a big brother to you. However, life got in the way and as you went off to college, you barely had the time to see each other anymore. Weekly visits turned into monthly visits, monthly visits turned into yearly visits around the holidays. With each of you on your own paths, it was hard not get swept away by all life had to offer. Ja’Marr grabbed your luggage and loaded it into the open trunk of his luxury car. “Wow, things sure have changed huh? You’ve come a long way from that old beat up Nissan!” You giggled and closed the trunk of the car, making your way to the passenger’s side and hopping in the front seat of the car. “Aye, that Nissan got us where we needed to go! I didn’t hear you complaining back then.” Ja’Marr said as he got into the car, closing his door and lowering the volume on the radio so he could hear you better. “I miss those days so much, we had so many good memories in that car”. You put your sunglasses on and buckled your seat belt, the anxiety creeping in on the future that was to come.

This was your first time in Ohio, so everything was fresh and new to you. You were born and raised in Louisiana, and while you had traveled somewhat, Ohio was never exactly on your radar to visit until now. You were in desperate need of a change, still processing a break up that happened 8 months prior with someone you thought was the love of your life. It felt like the 5 years you spent with your ex was thrown out of the window in a matter of a few seconds. You sighed and tucked a few stray curls behind your ear, Ja’Marr instantly noticing the tension within you. “You good, Kenz?” He briefly looked to his right at you before turning back to look at the busy road ahead. “I’m good…” you intently paused while thinking whether or not you wanted to open up the emotional baggage that you had been storing away for months. “We may not hang out as much as we used to, but I can tell when you’re lying a mile away. What’s up?” Ja’Marr hit the off button on the radio, completely encasing the car in utter silence while he waited for you to open up. “I don’t know…I had this whole idea of how life would be for me at this point. I’m almost 27, I thought I’d be married and on my way to having kids. Now I’m practically moving in with my cousin, in a completely new state. It almost feels like I’m starting over, and it’s terrifying.” Ja’Marr heard from your parents how tough the break up had been for you, and how isolated it had caused you to become from the rest of your family and friends. You had always been close to your parents, but when you shut them out, they couldn’t help but continuously recommend a change of scenery for you. They had been in constant contact with Ja’Marr for months discussing you, Ja’Marr not thinking twice when your mother recommended you come for a visit. Ja’Marr insisted that you stay for a while since it had been quite some time since you two had one on one time together. Ja’Marr was finally at a place in his career where he felt secure with little to no distractions, and you working remotely allowed you to be anywhere at any time, so it was kind of perfect.

You were lost in your thoughts, instantly triggered by the conversation and recalling your conversation with your parents. “Mackenzie, you know we love you but we are seriously worried about you. I haven’t seen you hang out with any of your friends in months. Not even Jade, you guys are usually attached to the hip.” Jade was your high school best friend, the two of you would go off to college together at Tulane University and remain inseparable, at least until recently. “I told you dad, I DON’T want to talk about Jade. Her and I are no longer friends, now please—drop it.” You shot a look at both your mom and dad, grabbing the keys to your car and slamming the door on your way out of your childhood home.

Your cousin chimed in, pulling you out of your thoughts, “Kenzie, you need to stop being so hard on yourself. You can’t predict the future and you sure as hell can’t predict some bitch ass dude betraying you. I hate that I get the feeling you blame yourself for what happened.” Ja’Marr was right, you definitely took partial blame for the betrayal. But even with you taking partial blame, it was still almost impossible to talk about. You had been working with a therapist since college, and that was the only person who knew the full scenario with you and your ex. Even then, it took you months to be able to even discuss the smallest details of what went down. “I honestly just want to put it all behind me. This is a chance for a fresh new start for me, and I want everyone to stop pressing me about what happened. I’m not going backwards here.” You shot an irritated look at him, but he took that as a clue to drop the subject, willing to do anything to make you feel comfortable on your first day in town. “I get it, anyway I’m just happy you’re here. We have a few months before I have to get back to work, so that leaves us time to do anything you want. Just let me know what you have in mind.” He grabbed his sunglasses from the center console and put them on as you gave him a slight smile. “Thanks again for inviting me to stay with you, I know I’m impeding on your bachelor pad.” You chuckled, thinking of how awkward things could get if he decided to bring a date to his house while you were there. “You know, that hadn’t even crossed my mind. I think I’m just excited to have my cousin around, you know you’ve always been like a sister to me. What’s mine is yours!” You couldn’t help but feel the excitement creep back in, as you imagined all of the opportunities this time in a new state could bring. You were also excited to reconnect with Ja’Marr and hear all of the things you’ve missed out on in his life.

He turned up the radio, both of you singing along to songs on his playlist as you made your way to his house in the quaint and gated neighborhood. After what seemed like the longest drive after all your back and forth thoughts and emotions, you pulled into the driveway, your eyes going wide at the beautiful home in front of you. “Wow…I knew things were different for you, but I didn't know you had it like that!” You said sarcastically, freeing yourself from the seatbelt and quickly hoping out of the car while Ja’Marr followed suit. “I’ve done alright for myself, if I do say so.” The trunk opened and he grabbed your luggage, grimacing and giving you a puzzling look. “What the hell did you pack in here anyway?!” You tilted your head toward him responding, “Oh that’s nothing. This is just to get me started, my parents are sending the rest of my things in the next few weeks!” You shut the trunk behind him, following behind as he led you up to the front door. “You can’t be serious, remind me what I’ve gotten myself into again” He laughed, punching in the security code to his keyless entry. You both entered the large home, you being instantly stunned by how clean it was, considering he didn’t used to be the neatest person you knew. There were pictures of him in college with his friends and teammates, scattered along the hallway wall. As you stepped further in, he rolled your bag along the hallway, stopping once reaching the back of the home. “I’ll put your bag in here. This was going to be the guest room, but I’ve never had use for it, so it’s yours now.” You quietly stepped into the spacious room, making note of the king sized bed with plenty of pillows. There was a large window which allowed for a ton of natural sunlight, and plenty of fresh plants. You noticed the suite also had it’s own bathroom, equipped with both a walk in shower and large bath tub. When you walked further in, you spotted the closet in the back corner, “Holy shit, is this JUST the closet?!” Your eyes went wide and you immediately flicked the light switch on, spotting several shelves to put your things, and plenty of space to hang your clothes. You were in utter shock, and you felt way out of your element. While you didn’t grow up poor, you weren’t exactly well off either. All you could think about was how you wouldn’t have nearly enough things to fill up all of the space on the shelves. The situation began to feel overwhelming again, and you couldn’t help but have second thoughts of whether or not you made the right choice in coming here. There was also no discussion of exactly how long you’d stay, so this lingered in your mind as you stepped out of the closet. Ja’Marr stood to the side, allowing you time to take everything in and get acquainted. He noticed you suddenly went quiet, the excitement in your face replaced by weariness. “Hey, Ja’Marr…how lon—“ He quickly cut you off before you could even finish your sentence. “You can stay as long as you want, you know that.” He gave a slight smile at the look of relief on your face when he gave you an answer. Even though you guys weren’t as close as you were when you were growing up, he could still read your mind and know when something was off. “I can’t thank you enough. If you feel like I’m overstaying my welcome or getting in your way, please just tell me and I’m on the first flight back home!” You said, sitting on the plush and comfy bed. “Please, Kenzie. I’m glad to have you, it’ll be nice to have someone here to keep me company. Seriously. I’m used to being here by myself all the time that it can get lonely.” He gave a smile of reassurance and walked toward the doorway, “I’ll give you some time to get comfortable, know you had a long night of traveling. Just yell if you need anything.” You smiled back and replied, “Thanks, I’m definitely taking a nap once I unpack.” You said as he stepped out of the room, giving you some space. You sighed deeply and laid back amongst the bed and pillows. You could not wait to see where this new adventure would take you.

Hope you all enjoyed! I’ll get the next part up within the next week hopefully 💕

[strniohoeee]

Dolor Pt. 2

Pairing: Chris Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Y/N hasn’t seen Chris in a year and a half, but with the help of her friend she’s surprised by them🤭 Will those feelings still be there for one another?

Warnings⚠️: None, I’m not too sure how I feel about this one, but I had no other idea on how to write it so I hope y’all enjoy 🙃

Song for the imagine: ANGEL- Brent Faiyaz

Read part 1 here🫶🏽

Don’t ever leave my side, baby I’ll die

But from what I know, you’re always here to stay

You’re an angel in disguise

It has been a solid year and half since Chris and I broke up, a solid year and half of never seeing him or his brothers. It was very hard, but it also flew by. I wasn’t sure where a year and half went. It was honestly scary.

We both told each other we’d love to cross paths, and reconnect in a few months to be friends, but life got in the way, and that never happened. I’m honestly glad it didn’t, we were both so busy I believe it helped us move on from one another faster.

We all stood mutuals with each other on instagram and TikTok, but we just didn’t interact with each other. I watched them grow in all aspects, and it was amazing. I thought I’d be there to witness it first hand, but instead I was watching from the sidelines….it hurt me, but it had to be done.

My TikTok was flooded with videos of them from their tour they were just on, and it’s honestly crazy how much people can change in a year and a half. That didn’t even look like Chris. He was much more mature looking, sculpted cheekbones, shorter hair, stubble on his face…..Chris was looking good.

I shook that feeling off because I could not allow myself to fall back in love with Chris. It took me a long time to move on from him. I will always love the kid, but to fall out of love was hard. I hadn’t seen or talked to any other guys since splitting with Chris, and I wasn’t too sure if that was the same with him. Deep down I hoped it was.

I was scrolling on TikTok one day when I saw a clip of the triplets from their recent podcast video, they were doing a Q and A video, and somehow Chris pulled out a question asking about me. I decided to watch the video

“Okay so this person says how’s Y/N, and how have you been since the breakup. I’m currently going through my own break up right now, and I just need some advice” Chris read out

“So uh this is a good question. It’s been a year and a half since I’ve last seen Y/N, and it’s crazy to say it’s been that long, but it has. With the relationship we had and how special it was it took me a full year to finally be able to feel okay, and understand why we split up. It hurt and some part of me still hurts, but we told each other the night we broke up that we both will be okay because we’re strong, and that’s something I’ve been holding on to. I presume that she’s okay, I’ve seen her instagram posts and her TikTok’s, and she looks amazing. I actually really miss the girl. So I hope she’s doing great, and for you going through your break up just know everything happens for a reason and you’ll be okay take your time and work on yourself” he said

Oh god this was making it so hard for me not to call Chris and ask to see him….I missed him so badly

I scrolled some more and another clip popped up

“This person wants to know do you still love Y/N” Nick asked Chris

“Oh 100% that woman is my everything. Like we’ve said in the past we hope to cross paths again” Chris said nodding his head

This has to be a sign? Like this has to be a sign that I have to see him, that Chris and I are meant for each other right? Or am I being delusional……

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to call him, text him or just ignore all this and keep it pushing in life. I felt torn between my decisions

Today I was getting ready to film with Larray and Arrington. I had gotten so close to them within the last year, and we always filmed together. Larray was my biggest supporter in all this, and he was also friends with the triplets which kind of made it hard, but he never got in between anything. Although he hoped and prayed that we’d get back together one day I always told him time will tell.

He had an idea where we all stay in his car for 24 hours with special guests. I wasn’t sure who these guests were, and I wasn’t sure why he wanted us to stay in a car for 24 hours, but I agreed I knew it would be fun.

I had driven over to Larrays house, and let myself in

“YOOOOO” I yelled from the door

“Were in hereeee” Arrington yelled back

Oh god I was the last one here….I hated this, but anyways I walked to Larrays room, and when I walked in my heart sank

“Oh” was all I said as I walked in

“Hiiiii baby” Larray said, causing everybody to turn around with him the triplets face dropping

“What’s? Uh….whats going on” I said looking at Larray

“We’re filming a video, and I brought my friends” he said back

“It’s been so long” Chris said looking at me saddened

“It ummm it has” I said smiling at him

“We have missed you so fucking much….holy shit” Nick said running over and hugging me

“Uhh it’s been so fucking long I missed yall too” I said hugging him

“Matt you look so different now” I said jaw dropping and giving him a hug

“Good different I hope” he said hugging me

“Of course good different” I said laughing at him

I moved to Chris

“You look so different too” I said pulling him in for a hug

“I’ve missed you” he said hugging me tighter

“Missed you too” I said pulling away

After chatting for a bit Larray decided to film his introduction for his channel

“Alright bitches we are filming a 24 hour car video today, and of course I had to bring in my ride or dies Arrington and Y/N” he said and both Arrington and I made an entrance

“And then you know Larray had to stir the pot, so he brought the triplets” Arrington said to the camera causing us to laugh

“As uhhh most of you know there’s uh an elephant in this room between uh two people, but ummm we won’t talk about it” Larray said

And we just laughed at him

“You are so messy” I said to him rolling my eyes playfully

“Alright let’s get to the car bitches” he said and we ran out

I sat in the passenger seat, Chris and Arrington in the back, and then Nick and Matt in the third row

“Alright so right now we’re driving to Target which is 45 minutes away because Larray decided to do this video during rush hour” I said to the camera

“Uh- is that a drag?” He asked me

“It sure is” I said to him

“So Y/N….you said Matt looks different….you already had Chris so will you try another brother” Arrington asked me

I looked back at him jaw on the floor, as Chris and his brothers were laughing

“You weirdo Arrington, I will not fucking get with Matt” I said shaking my head

“Could you believe this kid” I said looking at the camera

“Ouuuu the fans want to know how many boyfriends since Chris” Larray asked me

“Boyfriends plural? Do they think I’m a slut….its only been a year and a half guys, and there’s been zero guys since Chris” I said shrugging my shoulders

“OHHHHHH CHRISSSS” Larray and Arrington yelled at him hyping him up

“She loves me too much to do that” Chris said to the camera

“Uh-“ I said turning around to look at him

“I’m just kidding” he said and touched my face playfully

“SAW THAT” Nick and Matt yelled from the back

We had finally gotten to Target, and Chris and I were paired up to go on the hunt for some things, and we had to vlog it together

“Alright guys I’m here with uh….my ex” I said to the camera

“What a great reunion” he said looking at the camera

“Who would’ve thought a year and a half later we’d be in Target shopping for a video together” I said looking at him

“I honestly thought it would’ve happened sooner, but I mean hey” he said shrugging his shoulders

“Oh whatever” I said rolling my eyes at him

Him and I were doing some shopping and grabbing some stuff, and we had found ourselves in the coloring book aisle

“Look the Disney coloring book, your favorite” he said leaning down to grab it

“You remembered?” I asked him

“Of course I did, and you only get specific coloring pencils cause you’re weird” he said laughing

“Hey don’t be mean” I said laughing at him

“It’s cute” he said smiling at me

“Do you ever think about us?” I asked him

“Pretty often actually” he said looking at me

“Do you think you see a future with me” I asked him

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and every time I picture my future you’re a main character in it” he said looking into my eyes

“This year and a half has been rough, and I so badly wanted nothing more than to cave and call you over, and just hold you tight” I said looking down

“I sat in my room for so many nights wondering if the decision I made was right, and after a while I just became numb to the feeling, but I want this again….I want us” he said

“I think we should start slow first. I want us to truly work out this time no break ups no nothing” I said to him

“I think so too, you should come film with us again we miss you so much, and the fans miss you too” he said

“I’ve seen…all over my tik tok” I said smiling at him

“Yeah they love you and I love you too so much” he said pulling me in for a hug

We finished vlogging some, and headed back to the car with everybody getting back in our original seats

“Okay everybody we are back, we’re going to go eat something and then we’ll be back in the car for the next 24 hours” Larray said

After we ate we went back into Larrays car trying to stick out this challenge and just chatting with each other asking each other questions

“How many girlfriends since Y/N?” Larray asked Chris

“None. I told yall she’s the love of my life” he said looking at the camera

“Awww Chris” I said looking at him

“HEY CITY GIRLS UP. Do not fall for this” Arrington said

“Shut the fuck up” I said laughing at him

“What’s one regret you have” Nick asked us

“I think my biggest regret was completely dropping you guys out of my life. Like no interactions no nothing that hurt the most” I said to them

“We appreciate that” Matt said

“How do you guys feel after seeing each other” Matt asked Chris and I

“Is this a hot seat? What are we doing” Chris said

“Shut the fuck up and answer” Nick said

“I feel at peace, like seeing him was the last piece to my puzzle. I still love Chris of course, and we’re hoping to take things slow, and eventually get together again” I said to them

“Yeah. I love her so much, and seeing her today brought back all those memories. Memories that made my heart flutter, and I knew I couldn’t let her go again” he said looking at me

“Yall cute as shit this has got to stop” Larray said

“So yall heard it here first they are back together” Arrington said to the camera

“WOAH WOAH NO” we both said putting our hands out

“We are taking it slow…we are not dating yet, and trust me you guys will know when we’re back together. It’s a maybe for right now” I said to the camera

“But she will be in our videos again” Chris said

“SHE WILL?” Nick and Matt said

“Yes she will!” He said to them

“FUCK YES FINALLY” Nick said getting excited

We had chatted for a good thirty more minutes before we decided this challenge was not going to happen

“Alright guys we did not make it, but we love you and we’re heading inside now” Larray said

“BYEEEEEE” we all yelled to the camera, Chris pulling me in and kissing my forehead

“Are you guys going to soft launch your comeback before I post this?” Larray asked us

“You know that’s not a bad idea actually” I said looking at Chris

“We could do that. I’d love to do that” he said pulling me in and kissing my cheek

“Yall soft launching but he smoochin on you” Matt said looking at us

“Uhhhh mind your business” Chris said sticking his tongue out at him

“OMG to keep it like private you guys could do like a couples shadow picture” Nick said

“Waittttt I love that let’s do it” I said to Chris

We had snapped the picture, and Chris posted it collabing with me once again so I can post and share it. Nick and Matt also shared it to their story saying the gangs back together and they can’t wait to film with me again. Immediately the love we got was INSANE

❤️nicolassturniolo,matthew.sturniolo,larray, and 450,000 others

christophersturniolo: I told you guys we’d always always find a way back to one another. Although we aren’t dating again we will be thinking about it for our future. I love this girl with my whole fucking heart, and I’m so glad we’re in each others lives again. She was my right person at the wrong time.My number one girl💍. Were back BITCHESSSSS🥳

Sturnioloteam: STFU THEYRE BACK

arringtonallen: mhmmm I was here for this picture so back off everyone

nicolassturniolo: mama and papa🫡

matthew.sturniolo: yall cute or whatever…..

larray: yall can thank me for this reunion MHMM💅🏽

Y/Nusername: my number one guy…love this kid so much💋

sturnioloooooo: I knew mom and dad would find each other again

The immense love we received was insane. Had you told me a year and a half ago today that all that pain would be gone, and we would find each other again I would laugh in your face. I guess I am making it to the end of his story….🥀

The End

I hope you guys liked this one I feel ehhh about it, but I had to have a happy ending🥹 but anywho let me get to writing some more 🖤

-J💅🏽

[lucy90712]

Hii how are you? I saw your post about sending in requests soo here I am haha :)

Could you write smth with Marc guiu and like long distance relationship (reader is from another country, I'd love Germany cos I'm from there but any country is okay) and like her surprising him with a visit, maybe she comes to a game and like waits for him after as the 'surprise' kinda. Feel free to adjust or change things if you want :)

Thanks so much in advance and I hope you have a great day!

Being in a long distance relationship is hard especially when there was a time that you weren't long distance it becomes hard to separate yourself from the person you love but sometimes it has to be done. This is exactly how it is for me and Marc as a few years ago my family moved to Barcelona which is where we met and became friends for a few months before we started dating. For a year we were so happy together until my dad lost his job and got a new one back home in Germany so we had no choice but to be long distance which was so hard at first but we have made it work as best as possible but I still miss him a lot. 

A few weeks ago Marc got a move to Chelsea which he was really excited about and I was really happy for him. Between his move and preseason we haven't seen each other in like two months which is the longest we've gone without seeing each other. This weekend is supposed to be Marc's first game which he thinks I can't make it to but I've been lying to him so I can surprise him. It's not all a lie originally I didn't think I could go as I was supposed to be going to a family event but things got moved around and I just didn't tell him as I thought it would be fun to surprise him. 

Getting tickets to the match wasn't easy as they were all sold out and I'm not as familiar with Marc's new Chelsea teammates as I was with his Barcelona teammates. In the end I was brave and dm'ed one of his teammates to ask for help getting tickets and he was so helpful and gave me a way to get hold of tickets and offered to help me surprise Marc which I took him up on as I have no idea how to go about things. His teammate made sure that I knew how to get to the stadium and where would be the best place to stay the night before the game and he sorted things out so I'd be allowed into the back of the stadium with the rest of the players friends and families so I can actually surprise Marc after the game. 

Now things are all set in place and all I have to do is keep this hidden from Marc which won't be easy as we always FaceTime every night and I'm scared he'll notice that I'm not in my room as I'm staying in a hotel close to the stadium. Marc is quite observant he always notices when I've had my hair cut even if it's just a trim and he can always tell when I've changed my skincare or makeup routine so fooling him isn't going to be easy. I thought he'd have caught on before I even got here as we quite often text throughout the day and I had to have my phone off while I was on the plane but luckily I was able to say that I was caught up with something and didn't check my phone which he believed. 

As soon as I arrived to the hotel and dropped my suitcase off I went back out onto the streets to go the the Chelsea store which is close to the stadium to find a shirt with Marc's name and number on. He said that he would send me a shirt but he hasn't been able to yet as he hasn't got an official game day shirt that he can part with. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I didn't wear his shirt especially for his first game at a new club so I took matters into my own hand to try and find a shirt for myself. The store was much bigger than I expected it to be and it was filled with people but I managed to navigate my way around until I finally found a shirt with Marc's name on it which I bought and got out of there as quick as possible. 

Like clockwork Marc FaceTimed me at 8pm and I had to do my best to try and keep the camera on me and not show much of the room so he wouldn't get too suspicious. To start with Marc seemed confused and was looking at my surroundings but he didn't say anything so neither did I. We had a normal conversation about what we had done today and I had to completely make things up which he just believed as he trusts me enough to not question anything I say which is really sweet and helpful in this specific situation. We talked for hours until I had to pretend to need to go as I was supposed to be up early for this family event he still thinks I'm going to so we said goodnight to each other and I just hoped and prayed that Marc wasn't too suspicious about my surroundings. 

~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to my alarm and a few texts from Marc telling me to have a good time with my family so I wished him luck at his game before getting up and getting ready. Once I was ready I still had hours until I needed to leave for the game and I had no idea what to do with myself. I was so nervous for Marc, I always get nervous before Marc plays but for some reason today I'm extra nervous for him. Playing for a new club in a different league especially such a competitive one like the premier league is nerve wracking and playing at Chelsea comes with another level of competition and pressure that I know Marc can handle but that doesn't mean I can't be nervous for him. 

Eventually the time came for me to leave so I changed into the shirt I bought yesterday and grabbed all my things before calling a taxi to get to the stadium. There was so much traffic on the road but I allowed plenty of time to get there so by the time I arrived there was still enough time for me to find my seat and take in the stadium before the match started. I have been to all sorts of stadiums to watch Marc play but most of them don't compare to Stamford bridge even though there was a lot of empty seats the atmosphere was amazing people were really in the spirit and ready for the first match of the new season. 

Soon enough the players came out to warm up and as always my eyes were drawn to Marc as he ran across the pitch and kicked a ball around to get himself ready. He wasn't in the starting line up which wasn't a huge surprise to me but I'm hoping he can play in the second half as I'd love to see him actually play. Watching him out there made me so excited to surprise him after the match I know he wished I could be here but he would never say that as he doesn't like to make me feel bad when I can't make it to big matches. In just under two hours I can finally hug and kiss him again which I've missed so much while we've been apart but for now I have to wait a bit longer. 

The match didn't get off to the best start with Chelsea conceding within the first 20 minutes then they had a few good chances which unfortunately they weren't be able to convert. Half time came around and not much changed but 66 minutes into the game Marc finally came on. He received a loud cheer from the crowd which really warmed my heart as I know he was worried about being accepted by the fans but that doesn't seem like it's going to be a problem. Marc played well trying to make runs and get close to the goal to help the team but ultimately it didn't make a difference as the match ended 2-0 after an 84th minute goal from Kovacic which wasn't well received by the home fans but in the end they didn't care so much about that and more about the loss. 

I wasn't thinking about the loss I was thinking about Marc, the players were still out on the pitch but as soon as they started making their way off I left my seat and headed towards the back parts of the stadium so I can finally see Marc. Security let me straight through and directed me to where I needed to go to find the locker rooms. Just as I made it down there the players started to head towards the locker room and I was able to spot Marc down the corridor as he was talking to Sanchez so he hadn't noticed me yet. The closer he got the more I wondered if he would even notice me as he was so in his own world but luckily Marc looked in my direction at the right time which caused him to stop in his tracks as he tried to figure out what was happening. 

It wasn't long before Marc realised I was actually stood there and he ran towards me and picked me up in his arms to hug me tightly. He was all sweaty from running around for the last 30 minutes but I couldn't care less it just felt so good to be in his arms again. When he put me down one of his arms stayed around my waist while his other hand went to my jaw to pull me in for a kiss. It didn't stop at one kiss he made sure to make up for at least half the kisses I've missed out on over the last two months by pressing kisses all over my face. 

"I'm so happy you're here I've missed you so much" Marc said 

"I've missed you too you were amazing out there by the way" I said 

"Thank you I was sad that we lost but now none of it matters as I've got you here" he said 

"Wait weren't you supposed to be at a family thing how are you here?" He asked 

"That got moved so I decided I'd come surprise you at your first match as I just couldn't miss it" I said 

"Well I'm happy you could make it and I like your shirt how did you get that?" He asked 

"I battled London after I got here yesterday and went to the club store which was packed but I managed to find this as I thought I couldn't come here to support you without wearing your shirt" I said 

"You are so cute but now you can have this shirt so you've got a fully authentic one" he said 

"I look forward to showing that off to my friends" I laughed 

We talked for a bit longer before he had to go and get changed so he left me with a few of his teammates who he introduced me to while he showered and changed in record time. All of his teammates were lovely and they made me feel welcome which is something I was worried about as I got along with all of Marc's Barcelona teammates really well so I didn't think it would be the same here but so far everyone has been really nice. Soon enough Marc came back and it was time for us to go so we headed to my hotel to grab my things so I could stay with him for the next few days as my flight back isn't until Wednesday as I thought we could spend an extra few days together. He doesn't have a proper place yet but he's staying in an actual apartment so we decided we would stay there. 

Once we made it back to Marc's place we settled in on the sofa and didn't move from there. He ordered us food for dinner and we had on our tv show that we only ever watch together as we have a lot to catch up on. All we really did was sit and cuddle but that's exactly what I've been missing while we've been apart so today has just been the perfect day. 

[rafesgoldrings]

lust for life💋: omggg i’m kind of so excited for this soooo i’m thinking bestfriend!rafe and reader with these prompts:

“say, what’s that on your mind? is it me” (40)

“kiss me” (16)

“where do you want me, darling?” (25)

lastly, “does doing these kinds of things make us friends with benefits?”

congratulations on the 1k baby i’m so proud of youuu! you are such an amazing writer, i’m literally so speechless each and everytime I see your writing! <3

Kiss Me R.C

Babe I love this so much! And thank you🥺 you were one of the first people to consistently pop into my notifs and be so supportive of everything I write so thank you for that, genuinely one of the kindest people i’ve met🫶🏻😚 I adore you (also kind of changing up the wording on one of these prompts just to make it fit a bit better)

Having feelings for someone who you know doesn’t feel the same is hard enough. You have to watch them flirt with other people, watch them go on dates, live their love life with someone who’s not you. When that person is your best friend who you’ve known since childhood, one who you see all the time? It makes it way harder to deal with, he tells you the details of every date, how pretty this girl is, how he really can see a future with her, and you have to put on a supportive front and give him the best advice you can while your heart breaks. That’s exactly what’s happening with you and Rafe, you’ve been in love with him since you were younger.

He started talking to a new girl and had told you all about her, how she made him happy and they had been on a few dates. They planned for more, he really thought they could take this to the next level and start dating. You distance yourself from that point, choosing to find comfort in liquor bottles and rolled up joins. The parties you once hated going to become your new best friend over the next few weeks, Rafe was confused as to why his best friend since childhood seemingly wanted nothing to do with him anymore. Topper and Kelce tell him they’ve seen you at the parties a lot more, drinking more than you can handle and going home with whatever guy you find, and he knows something is wrong. He decides he’s going to confront you when he sees you post on your story, drunk and high off your ass while some guy grabs all over you.

You’re sitting on your couch trying to get over the terrible hangover you had. You took some medicine about an hour ago and it was finally starting to kick in, and then you hear a knock on the door. Your face scrunches in confusion because nobody was supposed to be here, but you get up and walk to the door anyway. Your heart sinks when you see it’s Rafe standing at the door and hesitantly open it.

“Can we talk?” he asks, desperation evident in his voice.

You think for a minute, knowing you need to talk to him and get it out of the way regardless of the outcome. You open your door wider and let him in, closing the door and going to sit on the couch next to him.

“What’s going on with you huh? One minute we’re best friends and the next you’re leaving me high and dry, I have to find out from Top and Kelce that you’re at all these parties getting high and drunk off your ass. You’re hooking up with all these guys and posting about it while ignoring my texts” he’s angry and that makes you angry. He’s allowed to hookup with whoever but you’re not?

“What do you care? You have what’s her fucking name, the new bitch you’re talking to. What does it matter if i’m hooking up with guys? Don’t worry about me.” you glare at him with storms in your eyes, nostrils flaring as your chest rises rapidly.

“I’m always going to worry about you! You’re my best friend a-“

“Stop, stop fucking calling me that. Please just leave” you cut him off, tears threatening to spill. He’s not meaning to, you know that, but he’s crushing your heart with each word.

“Y/N…please. Say what’s on your mind, is it me?” he has a feeling of what’s wrong. If it’s anything like he thinks then he understands. All these girls he’s with are to try and replace you, the girl he’s wanted since he first met you. He thinks there’s no way you’ll want to be with him because you’re just friends, so he keeps quiet and fills the void with girls that will never come close to you.

“I-” now or never, you take a deep breath in “I like you okay? And not just in a best friend way, I want you to talk about me the way you talk about these girls you date. I want you to feel the way about me that I feel about you. I want you to want me the same way I want you. But I know that won’t happen and it’s okay Rafe really, I g-“

“Kiss me” he pleads, eyes staring into yours full of desperation.

“What? What about that girl” you’re confused, clearly you heard him wrong.

“She’s gone, has been for weeks. Now. Kiss. Me” he places his hands on your face and grounds your thoughts.

You waste no time, crashing your lips into his. His hands move from your face to your hips, pulling you to straddle his lap. You mentally smack yourself when you realize you’re only wearing one of his t shirts and some panties, but fuck did it feel good. Instinctually, you begin grinding down agasint him, feeling his cock harden under you, and let out a small whimper. He pulls away to check if you’re okay and mutters out a small ‘fuck’ when he looks at you. Your lips are swollen, eyes black with lust and lids hooded as you whine.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” his hand moves to swipe at your cheek one, trailing it down your face and to your neck before gently squeezing.

“Rafe, I want you to fuck me” he almost doesn’t hear you, almost.

“Where do you want me darling?” he rests his forehead against yours, bringing his other hand the the other side of your neck to cradle it.

“My uh, you know” suddenly a wave of embarrassment flooded you. Scared you’d say the wrong thing and he’d leave realizing this was a mistake.

“Say it. Please say it” he was desperate, rolling his lips against your clothes cunt.

“In my pussy. Want you in my pussy” you whimper out, eyes fluttering closed at the friction on your clit.

You hear him mumble something before you’re suddenly being picked up and carried to your bedroom, your back softly colliding with your matters as he hovers over you. He kisses your lips gently, pulling away and just looking at you. Eyes full of lust and love as he moves to pull his top off, you give him the okay and he does the same to you, muttering about how perfect you were when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra. His head dips down to kiss your tits, taking your nipple into his mouth and circling it with his tongue before doing the same to the other.

“Rafe, please just fuck me” you needed him right now, desperate for him to make you his in every way.

He pulled your panties down and removes his pants and boxers, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a condom. He opens the packet before pulling the condom out and rolling it onto his cock, discarding the packet into the floor and lining the tip of his cock up with your dripping hole.

“Are you sure you want this baby?” he wants to make sure before he does this, you nod your head and pull him into a kiss. He pushes into you, going slow to let you adjust to his size. You let out a cry and he stops to check on you.

“I’m okay, you’re just so big. Not u-used to it” you stutter out, nails digging into his biceps. He keeps pushing into you until his cock is fully inside you, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and letting out a loud groan.

“Feel so good around my cock, so fucking tight” he doesn’t make any efforts to move until you give him the go ahead.

“You can move now, make me yours” that seems to flip a switch inside of him, he begins thrusting into you at a pace that’s not quite gentle but also not rough. You cry out in pleasure as tears slip from the corners of your eyes, his hair hanging down and brushing against your face as he keeps himself hovered over you. His strong arms are on both sides of your head, nails gripping onto his back and leaving scratch marks as he slams into you all the way over and over again.

His lips are roaming every inch of your body that they can, small moans filling the room. You feel yourself getting close to climax and pull him into a kiss that turns out more sloppy than you planned. It’s full of passion, years of unsaid feelings finally coming to the surface.

“I-oh fuck- i’m close” you break the kiss, brows scrunched together and head falling back into the mattress as your mouth falls open. The pretty sounds you’re making bring him close to the edge as well, loud grunts and groans escaping his lips as his thrusts become rougher.

“I am too baby, fuck you’re gripping me so tight” the both of you coming undone at the same time, a string of moans and curse words echoing off the walls. Your body arched as his hips faltered in movement, his lips capturing yours as your orgasms washed over you.

When the both of you managed to come down from the rush, he pulls out of you and removes the condom, discarding it in your trash can. He walks to your bathroom and grabs a cloth, wiping you off before doing the same to himself and throwing the rag in your clothes hamper.

You feel the bed dip beside you and his arms wrap around you, pulling your back to his front. Neither of you say anything, just wanting to enjoy the moment.

“So….does doing these kinds of things make us friends with benefits?” you know from his tone that he has that stupid grin on his face that he always did when teasing you. You reach your hand back and smack his head with a small laugh.

“Oh shut up” you hear him mumble a small ‘ow, it was just a question jeez’ and smile to yourself, shaking your head.

“Okay okay, if it doesn’t make us friends with benefits…that must make us boyfriend and girlfriend yeah?” you turn around so you were facing him, he had a small smirk on his face and you had a small grin on yours. Your eyes meet his and he places his forehead against yours.

“I guess it does” his face breaks out in a large smile, pulling you into another kiss. His nose nudges against yours when he pulls away, wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest. He finally got his girl, nothing would ever beat what he was feeling right now.