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solxamber · 2 months ago

Note

Hello, I love your writing! The isekai fics are so fun, Vil's was my favorite! Can I request the twst boys (+ staff if you have inspiration for it) comforting a reader who just breaks down in tears after the seventh overblot is resolved because they haven't had much support and time to process being in a new world away from everything they've ever known, were basically told to play therapist by Crowley, and have had their life and their friends lives at risk. Lots of angst but mostly comfort in the end! Thank you if you write this!

7th Overblot Aftermath

Characters: All NRC + Staff

hi! and thank you so much 🫶 vil was the first one I wrote I'm glad you liked it. I love this request and I hope you like it <3

The aftermath of Malleus’s overblot felt surreal. The sky had cleared, but the air was still heavy with the weight of what had just happened. It was over. Finally over. You had seen seven overblots now, each one pushing you and your friends to the edge, forcing you to confront darkness that shouldn’t have existed in people you had come to care for.

But this one had felt different. Maybe it was because of the sheer power Malleus wielded, or maybe it was because of how fragile the world around you had seemed as you fought to bring him back. You had nearly lost him—nearly lost everyone. And you were so, so tired.

Your knees gave out, hitting the ground with a soft thud. You stared at the grass beneath you, eyes blurring with unshed tears. Everyone was celebrating the victory, but all you could think about was the sheer exhaustion gnawing at your bones, the burden of playing mediator, therapist, and survivor all at once. You hadn’t signed up for this. You had been thrown into this world without warning, away from everything you had ever known, and you hadn’t had a moment to breathe since.

“I’m so tired…” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

And then it all came crashing down. The walls you had so carefully built around yourself crumbled, and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. Quiet at first, but then the sobs came harder, your shoulders shaking as you finally let yourself break.

You barely registered footsteps approaching until a pair of hands rested gently on your shoulders.

Ace Trappola

"Hey, hey," Ace’s voice broke the silence, softer than you’d ever heard it before. “What’s wrong? You’re... crying.”

You hiccuped, trying to suppress the sobs that wouldn’t stop coming. Ace was never one for emotional moments—at least, not the serious kind. He usually joked his way out of anything too heavy, but right now, he seemed out of his depth.

“C’mon, don’t cry,” he mumbled, his voice awkward but concerned. “We’ve been through worse, right? I mean, we beat Malleus of all people. If we can get through that, we can get through anything.”

He crouched beside you, his hand patting your shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, though he was clearly fumbling. “Just… talk to us, okay? We’re here. You don’t have to keep everything inside.”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice, but the tears kept coming. Ace sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly unsure of what else to say, but he stayed close, his presence enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

Deuce Spade

Deuce knelt down beside you, his expression full of concern. His hand hovered over your back, unsure whether to touch you, as if he was afraid of making things worse. He eventually settled on patting your back gently, his voice unsteady but earnest.

“It’s okay,” Deuce whispered, his usual tough demeanor nowhere to be found. “It’s gonna be okay. We’re all here for you. I—I didn’t realize how much you’ve been going through.”

His face was a mix of worry and guilt, as if he felt bad for not noticing sooner. “You don’t have to do everything on your own anymore. You’ve been looking out for us this whole time, and I… I didn’t see how much that’s been hurting you.”

You couldn’t respond, your throat tight with emotion. Deuce, seeing your tears still falling, gently shifted closer, offering the only comfort he knew how: his presence. “We’re friends, right? And friends help each other. So… let us help you, okay?”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle appeared beside you, his normally rigid posture softer now. He knelt down, placing a hand on your arm, his touch surprisingly tentative. He looked at you for a moment, eyes filled with unspoken regret before he spoke.

“I should have seen how much you’ve been carrying,” Riddle began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “You’ve been through so much—more than any of us realized. I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner.”

His words were measured, careful, as if he was trying not to overwhelm you. “I’ve been so focused on maintaining order, on fixing things after my own mistakes, that I failed to recognize how much weight you’ve been holding on your own.”

He sighed softly, guilt clear in his voice. “You’ve been our support through everything, but you’ve had no one to lean on yourself. That’s not fair to you, and it’s not something you should have had to do alone.”

Riddle stayed close, his hand still resting on your arm, offering comfort in the only way he knew how—through quiet sincerity.

Trey Clover

Trey crouched down beside you, his presence calm and steady, like always. He didn’t say anything at first, just rested a hand gently on your shoulder, waiting for your sobs to slow. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or overly emotional words, but he didn’t need them. His quiet support spoke volumes.

“You’ve been doing a lot for everyone,” Trey said softly, his voice low and warm. “More than anyone should have to. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed.”

He offered you a tissue, waiting patiently as you wiped your face, though the tears kept coming. Trey’s hand stayed on your shoulder, a grounding weight.

“You don’t have to keep everything bottled up,” he continued, his tone gentle. “We’re all in this together, you know? If you need a break, if you need someone to listen… we’re here. I’m here.”

There was no judgment in his voice, no impatience, just the quiet assurance that he’d be there for you whenever you needed.

Cater Diamond

Cater slid down beside you, his usual carefree smile nowhere in sight. Instead, his eyes were soft with concern as he pulled out a tissue and handed it to you.

“Y’know, it’s okay to break down sometimes,” Cater said quietly, watching as you wiped your face. His voice was unusually subdued, and for once, there was no joking, no lightheartedness to deflect from the situation.

“We’ve all been through a lot,” he continued, “but I think you’ve been carrying more than the rest of us. Crowley’s been dumping all this stuff on you, expecting you to handle everything, but you shouldn’t have to. Not alone.”

Cater leaned back slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You’ve been the glue holding us together. But who’s been holding you together, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to answer, but the tears just kept coming. Cater didn’t push. He just sat beside you, his presence steady, offering you the space to cry without judgment.

“It’s okay to let it out,” he said, his voice soft. “We’ve got you now.”

Leona Kingscholar

Leona crouched down next to you, his green eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of your trembling form. He let out an exasperated sigh, as if annoyed by the situation—not by you, but by everything you’d been forced to endure.

“Ugh, this is exactly why I hate people like Crowley,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Always dumping stuff on others and never dealin’ with the mess themselves.”

He placed a heavy, warm hand on your back, his grip firm but comforting. “Listen, you ain’t weak for feelin’ like this. You’ve done more than enough, and I don’t blame you for breakin’ down. Hell, anyone else would’ve lost it way before you did.”

Leona’s tone softened slightly, his voice low and steady. “You’re tougher than most of the idiots I know. So, stop thinkin’ you gotta do everything yourself. Just rest already.” He grumbled something under his breath about humans overworking themselves, but stayed close by, a quiet, protective presence.

Ruggie Bucchi

Ruggie hunkered down next to you, his usual cheeky grin replaced by something much softer. He clicked his tongue, shaking his head lightly. “Sheesh, you really let all that pile up on ya, huh?”

He gave you a light nudge with his elbow, playful but careful. “Look, you don’t gotta carry everything by yourself, ya know? I get it—you’re tough. But even tough people gotta take a break now and then, yeah?”

Ruggie’s eyes gleamed with empathy, his voice taking on a gentle, comforting tone you didn’t hear often from him. “Life’s been a little unfair to ya, huh? I mean, Crowley dumpin’ all that responsibility on you… it’s not right. But you’re here, and you’re still standin’, even after all that.”

He flashed you a small, reassuring smile. “But you don’t gotta stand alone. You’ve got us now. Lemme know if you need a break—I’ll hustle for the both of us.” Ruggie winked, his familiar mischievousness flickering back into his expression, but the concern in his eyes remained genuine.

Jack Howl

Jack’s ears twitched as he knelt down beside you, his tail swaying slowly with a sense of unease. He wasn’t great with words, but the sight of you breaking down hit him harder than he expected. “Hey,” he began softly, his voice gruff but sincere. “You’ve been through a lot, haven’t you?”

His hand hovered awkwardly for a second before settling firmly on your shoulder. Jack wasn’t sure how to help, but he wanted to—more than anything. “I know you’ve been strong… probably stronger than anyone should have to be. But it’s okay to let it out.”

He shifted slightly, trying to find the right words. “I… I know how it feels to be away from everything familiar. To feel like you don’t have anyone to lean on. But that’s not true. You’ve got me. You’ve got all of us.”

His grip on your shoulder tightened briefly, like he was silently reassuring you of his support. “You don’t have to face all of this alone. We’re here for you. And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you—or anyone else.”

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul approached you cautiously, his usual calm and collected demeanor faltering as he saw you crumbling under the weight of everything. His steps were slow, calculated, but there was an unusual tightness in his chest. He knelt down beside you, his expression torn between concern and his usual polished facade.

“You’ve… been carrying quite the burden, haven’t you?” he asked softly, though there was a certain edge to his voice, almost as if he was angry—at the world, at Crowley, at everything that had led to this moment.

His hand hovered over your shoulder for a moment before he rested it gently, almost hesitantly. “I won’t lie to you,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I’ve always admired how capable you are. But no one should be expected to handle what you have. Crowley’s negligence… it’s unacceptable.”

Azul glanced away briefly, his sharp gaze softening. “But you’re not alone anymore. You have us. You have me. And I promise, I won’t let anyone take advantage of you again—not without consequence.”

There was a sincerity in his words that Azul rarely revealed, a vulnerability hidden beneath his usual polished exterior. “You don’t have to keep being strong on your own. Allow yourself to lean on someone else for once.”

Jade Leech

Jade knelt gracefully beside you, his usual serene smile gone, replaced with a look of quiet concern. His movements were slow, deliberate, as though he was gauging how best to approach the situation. “My, you’ve been holding this all in for quite some time, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice as smooth as ever, but with an underlying warmth that was rare for him.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his fingers light but reassuring. “You’ve done more than anyone could ask of you. It’s no surprise that you feel overwhelmed.”

Jade’s gaze flickered over your trembling form, his mismatched eyes studying you carefully. “It’s a great deal of responsibility to bear, especially in a world so far from your own. But… you’re not alone.”

There was a softness in his tone that you didn’t expect, his usual composed demeanor shifting. “You’ve been strong for everyone else. Now, allow yourself to rest. Let us take care of things for a while. You’ve certainly earned it.”

He smiled gently, his hand still resting on your shoulder, steady and reliable. “And do not worry. Should anyone try to take advantage of your kindness again, they will have me to deal with.”

Floyd Leech

Floyd approached you in his typical loose, carefree stride, but when he saw the state you were in, his usual playful grin vanished. His steps quickened, and before you knew it, he was crouched down right in front of you, his mismatched eyes widening in genuine concern. “Whoa, hey, hey! What’s this?” he asked, tilting his head as he examined your tear-streaked face.

Without hesitation, he pulled you into a tight hug—so sudden and fierce that it left you breathless for a second. “You can’t cry like this, Shrimpy. It doesn’t suit you,” he said, his voice unusually soft, though still carrying that familiar teasing edge.

Floyd squeezed you tighter, his long arms wrapping around you like a lifeline. “If things are bad, you should’ve just told me. I’d go squeeze the life outta Crowley for you—he deserves it.” He chuckled, but his grip didn’t loosen, like he was afraid you might fall apart if he let go.

He leaned back slightly, still holding you close. “You don’t gotta be strong all the time, you know? You’re my friend, and I don’t let my friends break down alone. So, whenever you feel like this, just come find me. I’ll squeeze the sadness right outta ya.” His words, though playful, carried a weight of sincerity that made your heart ache a little less.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil stood before you, his expression unreadable, though his eyes held a rare softness. “You’ve let yourself reach this point of exhaustion,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not your fault, but you shouldn’t have been forced to carry this burden alone.”

He knelt beside you, his touch gentle but firm as he took your hand. “You’ve been strong for so long, but even the strongest need time to recuperate. Don’t mistake vulnerability for weakness. It takes great strength to admit you need help.”

Vil brushed a stray tear from your cheek, his voice dropping to a softer tone. “You’ve given so much of yourself, but now, it’s time to prioritize your own well-being. I won’t let you neglect yourself any longer. Remember, even a diamond can crack if too much pressure is applied.”

Rook Hunt

Rook’s eyes sparkled with emotion as he knelt gracefully beside you, his usual exuberance tempered by an uncharacteristic stillness. “Ah, mon ami, you have been carrying such a heavy heart all this time,” he whispered, his voice a melodic lilt.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch light, almost reverent. “To be in a world so foreign, surrounded by danger, yet still you’ve stood tall… such beauty in your strength. But even the most resilient soul must rest.”

Rook smiled warmly, leaning closer as if to share a secret. “Let us lift this burden from your shoulders, together. You are not alone. I, too, am by your side, always watching, always ready to catch you should you stumble.”

Epel Felmier

Epel crouched down next to you, his face tight with concern. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, not used to comforting others but determined nonetheless. “You shouldn’t have had to go through all this,” he muttered, his country drawl creeping into his voice. “Crowley’s a real piece of work, throwin’ all that on ya.”

He reached out, offering a hand in his own shy way. “You’ve been tougher than most, and I admire that. But that don’t mean you gotta keep it all bottled up. It’s okay to feel this way. We’re all here for ya, and I’m not lettin’ anyone mess with you anymore.”

Epel’s expression softened, his voice gentler now. “You’ve got us, so don’t think you’re alone in this. We’ll face it all together.”

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim immediately rushed to your side, concern written all over his face. “Oh no! You’ve been carrying all this by yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?” he exclaimed, kneeling down and grabbing your hands with both of his, his usual exuberance tempered by a rare sincerity.

He gave you a bright, reassuring smile. “You’ve been so strong for everyone else, but it’s okay to take a break. You don’t have to do everything alone—you’ve got us! And I promise, from now on, we’re all going to make sure you’re okay too.”

Kalim’s warm eyes sparkled with optimism. “Let’s go celebrate once you feel better! Something fun and happy—just to take your mind off everything. I’ll plan the best party ever, and you can just relax, okay?”

Jamil Viper

Jamil crouched down beside you, his dark eyes watching you carefully, as if assessing your every emotion. He sighed softly, his voice low and calm. “You’ve been under more pressure than anyone should have to deal with, and none of it was your fault.”

He rested a hand on your shoulder, his touch firm and grounding. “You shouldn’t have had to bear all this alone, but you don’t have to anymore. I understand what it’s like to carry more than you should.”

Jamil’s eyes softened, though his expression remained calm and composed. “From now on, you can rely on us. I won’t let things spiral out of control again, and I won’t let Crowley push you to your limits anymore. You deserve to take a step back and breathe.”

Idia Shroud

Idia stood awkwardly at a distance at first, his usual nervous fidgeting even more pronounced as he saw you breaking down. He hesitated before kneeling beside you, keeping his hands to himself. “I, uh… I get it,” he muttered, voice quieter than usual. “Feeling like the world’s too much to handle? Yeah, I’ve been there.”

He shifted uncomfortably but spoke with genuine understanding. “You’ve been through way more than anyone should. And, uh, it’s okay to not be okay. You don’t have to act like everything’s fine all the time.”

Idia’s blue flames flickered a bit brighter as he added, “If you need to… y’know, not deal with everything, I’ve got games and stuff to help you chill out. No judgment. Just… take it easy, okay?”

Ortho Shroud

Ortho hovered closer, his usual upbeat tone shifting to something far more gentle. “You’ve done so much, and I know it’s been really hard on you,” he said softly, his mechanical voice somehow conveying warmth.

He floated down beside you, his small hand resting lightly on your shoulder. “But you’re not alone anymore! You’ve got big brother and me, and we’ll help you through everything. You don’t have to carry all this by yourself.”

Ortho gave you a bright smile, his eyes glowing softly. “Let me help you feel better! We can work together, and you can lean on us whenever you need to.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus approached you slowly, his imposing presence softened by the genuine concern in his eyes. He knelt gracefully beside you, his voice low and soothing. “You have been through much, more than anyone should bear. It is no wonder you feel as though the weight is too much.”

He extended a hand, his fingers brushing gently against your arm. “You are not alone in this world. I understand what it is to feel isolated, but you have friends, and you have me.”

Malleus’s gaze softened further, his voice almost a whisper. “I am here for you, as are the others. Rest now, and let us share in your burden. No harm shall come to you as long as I stand by your side.”

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia floated down beside you with a lightness that contrasted the gravity of the situation. His usual playful demeanor faded, replaced by quiet empathy. “Ah, little one,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection. “You’ve been carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

He rested a hand gently on your head, giving it a comforting pat. “You’ve done well, more than anyone could have asked of you. But now, it’s time to let go of some of that burden. There’s no shame in needing help.”

Lilia smiled gently, his eyes twinkling with warmth. “You’re not alone, not anymore. We’ll protect you. You can lean on us when you need to.”

Silver

Silver knelt beside you, his calm eyes filled with quiet understanding. “You’ve been strong for a long time,” he said softly, his voice low and soothing. “But you don’t have to be strong all the time.”

He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder, his touch steady and grounding. “It’s okay to let yourself feel overwhelmed. It doesn’t mean you’re weak—it means you’ve been through too much.”

Silver’s eyes softened as he spoke. “You have friends here, people who care about you. You can rely on us. I’ll be here, watching over you, so you can rest.”

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek approached you with his usual fervor but hesitated when he saw your tears. His sharp voice softened, though it still carried his typical intensity. “Human! You have been through much, but you must remember—you are not alone in this!”

He stood tall beside you, his green eyes blazing with determination. “You have shown strength, but it is not weak to ask for help! Lord Malleus would never allow you to suffer alone, and neither will I!”

Sebek crossed his arms, standing like a guardian at your side. “You are under the protection of Lord Malleus, and by extension, my protection! No harm will come to you now.”

Crowley

Crowley fluttered over, his usual flamboyant demeanor subdued as he saw your distress. “Ah, my dear prefect,” he began, wringing his hands nervously. “It seems that perhaps I’ve… placed more on your shoulders than I should have.”

He knelt beside you, his expression uncharacteristically somber. “You’ve done so much for this school, more than anyone could have asked of you. And for that, I owe you a great debt.”

Crowley’s voice softened, uncharacteristically sincere. “But now, it’s time for me to take some responsibility. You’ve more than earned your rest. From now on, I’ll make sure you have the support you need.”

Divus Crewel

Crewel knelt beside you, his sharp eyes softened with concern. “You’ve been through hell, pup,” he said, his voice low but firm. “And it’s no surprise that you’re feeling the strain.”

He reached out and adjusted your collar with practiced precision, as if he could fix your emotional state as easily as he could fix your appearance. “You’ve shown remarkable strength, but even the strongest need a break."

Crewel’s voice took on a more gentle tone as he gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You’re not expected to bear the weight of the world on your own, pup. You’ve more than proven yourself, but now it’s time for you to let others shoulder some of that burden. I won’t allow anyone to exploit your loyalty or determination again.”

He straightened up, his steely demeanor still present but tempered with warmth. “You’ve got me in your corner now. If anyone dares push you to the brink again, they’ll have to deal with me. Understood?”

Mozus Trein

Trein approached slowly, his usual stern expression softened with concern as he adjusted his glasses. “You’ve been under undue stress, haven’t you?” he observed in his deep, calming voice. “No one should be forced to handle such pressure alone.”

He knelt beside you, his demeanor fatherly as he rested a hand on your arm. “This world has not been kind to you, I see that now. But you’ve handled it all with remarkable resilience. However, even the strongest minds and hearts need time to recover.”

Trein sighed deeply, his tone softening further. “I will ensure that you are given that time, without further demands placed on you. You’ve done more than enough.”

Ashton Vargas

Vargas came over with his usual boisterous energy, but seeing you in distress made him pause. His expression softened, and he knelt down beside you. “Hey, hey! What’s all this about, huh?” he said, his voice a bit gentler than usual. “You’ve been holding up the team for too long, I see. That’s a heavy weight, and it’s no wonder you’re feeling tired.”

He placed a strong, reassuring hand on your back. “You’re tougher than you think, but even the toughest need a break sometimes. You’ve done amazing—really! But now, it’s time to rest up and let others carry the load for a bit.”

Vargas smiled warmly, his usual energy tempered with sincerity. “You’ve earned it, champ. We’re not leaving you behind. We’ll get through this together.”

Sam

Sam quietly appeared beside you, his usual playful smile replaced by something softer, more caring. “Well now, looks like you’ve been carryin’ quite the burden, huh?” he said in his deep, smooth voice.

He crouched down next to you, his hand resting on your shoulder with a firm but gentle grip. “You’ve been strong for everyone else, but you can let that go for a bit. No shame in feelin’ overwhelmed.”

Sam’s eyes twinkled kindly, and he gave you a warm smile. “Remember, you’ve got friends, and we’re all here for you. Anytime you need a little pick-me-up, you know where to find me. No more carryin’ this all by yourself, alright?”

Grim

Grim strutted over, his ears twitching as he noticed the tears on your face. “Oi, what’s this?” he huffed, trying to sound nonchalant but clearly concerned. “You’re not supposed to be cryin’. You’re supposed to be tough, like me!”

He hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to handle the situation, before awkwardly patting your arm with his paw. “Uh... stop bein’ all sad, okay? You’ve been through a lot, but you’re still here, right? And that’s ‘cause you’ve got me, the Great Grim! I mean, you’re my henchhuman, so obviously you’re tough enough to handle anything!”

He puffed out his chest, trying to inject some of his usual bravado into the situation. “I’ll take care of things next time! No need to worry. Just... stop cryin’, alright? It’s weird. I’m supposed to be the one gettin’ pampered, not the other way around!”

Despite his tough words, Grim stayed by your side, his tail flicking nervously. “But, y’know, I guess... if you need to cry, that’s fine too. Just don’t tell anyone I said that.”

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i-love-ptv · 2 months ago

Text

Busted and Blue ｡𖦹 ⋆｡

Pairing: Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Girlfriend!Reader

It’s the annual kook halloween party, so of course you’re going to let loose with your friends! If only you proceeded with more caution like your boyfriend wanted..

Wc: 3,727

Hurt + comfort, protective Rafe, SUPER creepy guy harasses reader n grabs her :(( soz

An: Hey chat 😈 I would’ve gotten this out sooner if I could, but ofc i’m super sick (i think i have the flu somehow? 😭) But anywho, I hope yall enjoy this cause i lowkkk had this sitting unfinished in the docs since late september..🌚

Not proofread I fear (cause when do I ever guys)

Feedback always appreciated n welcome! Also send halloween/fall requests guys I wanna hear from y’all! :3 <33

“Y’ready, puddin’?” You turn to your boyfriend, Rafe, while adjusting the ears resting upon your freshly styled hair.

Rafe smirks at you, “‘M ready when you are.”

You grab your wallet off of your nightstand, alongside your keys, and stick them into Rafe’s jacket pockets.

Rafe grabs you by your waist, stepping closer to you, making sure he doesn’t accidentally step on your furry boots, and leaving an airy kiss onto your lips. He knows you’ll pout if he messes up your gloss and lip liner.

“Let’s go!” You cheer excitedly, gripping the golden haired boy’s arm and pulling him along. Rafe chuckles at your enthusiasm.

But before the two of you can pass the door’s frame, you abruptly stop walking, and let out a yelp.

“Wait!”

“Jesus Christ! What?” Rafe shouts out, purely in concern.

Due to you stepping into the bathroom, he can barely see you. But he sees you reach for something off of the sink.

You practically skip over to him giggling. “I almost forgot, Ray!”

You wave a container of face paint in front of his nose. You’re bouncing in your spot, making him grip your hips still.

“Y’scared me, sweet girl.”

You pout at this, but your frown quickly turns into a smile when you open the lid of the container.

“Mhmm. Sorry Ray. But your costume’s not complete without it!”

Rafe is sporting a camo fleece jacket, with matching baggy pants, and some dark boots. He’s wearing a camo beanie too, which covers his delicious buzzed hair.

He has a prop gun sitting in his waistband.

And last but not least, Rafe was letting his facial hair grow a bit for this exact day, per your request.

Instead of being cleanly shaven, his scruff was coming in, and the sight nearly made your mouth water.

But that’s besides the point, tonight was the annual Obx Halloween party, thrown by both Kelce and Topper at their shared house alongside a few other kooks as well.

If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a fraternity, but honestly, it wasn’t really far from one. Every day you wonder why their parents decided to fund it, but that’s besides the point.

Every kook attends this party every year, and some pogues would come too.

Did this cause a few problems? Absolutely, but at least it’s a bit more civilized than it was years prior.

With the party, there’s a costume contest, you even went out of your way a few years back to make a cute ballet box. Although, last year you had to make a new one, due to one partygoer accidentally crushing it against the table it rested on during a drunken fight.

You were pissed, to say the least, you spent the rest of the night sulking, and Rafe nearly punched the kid, despite him already suffering from a beating. He hated seeing you upset.

But every year, for 3 years in a row, Rafe and you would win the ‘Best Couples Costumes’ competition.

Last year, it came close, but everybody loves a classic, and you knew two measly pirates weren’t going to beat Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel.

And this year, you knew that you both were going to win again, your deer costume was just the cutest!

You’re holding Rafe’s face, specifically holding his cheeks with your thumb and index finger. You squish his face a few times cheekily, before applying the black face paint onto his cheeks.

You drag the brush down, lightly tickling Rafe’s slightly rosey cheeks, he’s trying not to react, you can tell. You find it cute.

“Okay! Now we’re good to go!” You clap your hands together with a giggle, Rafe swears he falls harder for you every single day.

You intertwine your hands with his, then head to Rafe’s car.

Rafe opens your door before you can even reach for the handle.

“Wowww,” you drag out, “Aren’t you a gentleman?”

He side-eyes you, leaving you cackling as he rounds the car to the driver’s side.

After walking through the front door of Kelce and Topper’s house, you’re immediately greeted by several people, some of your friends, some of Rafe’s.

You’re holding your boyfriend’s hand tightly, tip-toeing in while responding to all of the ‘Hey Dollie!’s and the ‘You look so cute Dollie!’s.

You drag Rafe into the kitchen, blabbering on about how you “need to find a smirnoff or else you’re going to collapse”.

Topper and Kelce spot Rafe, they rush over and start patting him on the back.

“Ayeee, howdy Rafe! Glad you finally showed up!”

They’re both dressed up as cowboys, their forced country accent makes you giggle.

Kelce notices you before Topper does, he instantly grins.

“Howdy there, Miss Dollie! Look at you!” You beam brightly, taking pride in your costume.

“A deer and a hunter? How cute, I think someone’s gone soft.” Topper raises his eyebrows in a teasing manner. He always talks about how “Rafe’s gone soft”, because years ago, if a girl asked if he wanted to wear matching halloween costumes, he would’ve laughed in her face.

“Shut the hell up Topper.” Rafe practically barked at him.

You walk over to the fridge, looking for your beloved smirnoff. Topper coos at Rafe, while Kelce makes kissy faces at him, making you laugh at their antics.

You hear a squeal behind you and you whip your head around.

There in front of you, is none other than your [basically almost] sister-in-law, Sarah Cameron.

“Oh my god, Dollie!! You look so cute!” She barrels into you, and you stumble back.

After you two talk for a bit, she drags you away, telling you how she wants to show you something.

You look back at Rafe, who looks a little apprehensive about letting you roam without him.

It’s not that he didn’t trust you, and he definitely wasn’t one to completely baby you, but he didn’t trust others.

There are some sleazy kooks here, ones that act how he used to, and that nearly sent a shiver up his spine at the thought of you being subjected to being around anyone like that.

He wants to protect you, he needs to.

It’s his job as your boyfriend.

Your future husband.

Anything can happen at a party, especially if you're not in his eyesight.

But you gave him a look of reassurance. Your eyes convey a message, almost as if you’re saying “It’s going to be okay” to him personally.

He holds your gaze for a few seconds longer, he looks uncertain, but eventually, you’re lost in the wave of bodies.

“Dude, you act like she’s gonna disappear or something, she’s only gonna be gone for a little bit.”

Topper’s statement makes Rafe turn back and glare at him.

He says nothing, instead, he goes to the fridge to grab a beer.

He knows he can only drink a few, since he’s going to be driving back home tonight. And you sure as hell aren’t going to let him drive if he’s even a bit tipsy.

…Even if that means you have to drive in the dark, which is hard for you to see in.

That’s one of the things that Rafe loves most about you. You’re so attentive. It’s new for him.

The two of you have been dating for years, coming up on four, to be exact.

But Rafe doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to the feeling of your love, and your warmth.

Rafe truly wonders if there’s an off-switch on Topper and Kelce.

They’ve been talking about a whole bunch of nothing and quite frankly, it’s starting to piss him off.

He knows you’d hate it if he was too busy worrying about what you’re doing rather than enjoying his time at a party with his friends.

It’s been an hour of non-stop chirping in his ear, and Rafe’s been nursing his second beer for the past 20 minutes.

“Yo, Rafe. Did your girl ever bring the costume ballot box in?” Kelce asks, touching his beer bottle with Rafe’s, making a sharp ‘clink’ noise.

Rafe groans, “Aw shit man. I'll go get it.” He rubs his hand over his face.

And with that, Rafe is trekking through the house towards his car, but not without pushing a few people out of his way.

Kelce snickers alongside Topper, who is growing agitated by his so-called girlfriend’s pestering, and finishes off his 5th-or-so beer.

Kelce hears a whimper from behind him, and quickly shoots around to see you: wobbling in your shoes, with your legs pressing together slightly. He can tell you’re already drunk.

“What’s up, Dollie? You okay?” Kelce rests his hands on your shoulders, aiming to keep you steady.

Your glossed lips remain in a pout, “Have you seen Rafe? I gotta go to the bathroom ‘n he told me to tell ‘em when I gotta.”

“He jus’ went to his car to get the ballot box. I can take you if you want though.”

“Oh pretty please, Kelce?” You’re speaking so urgently, Kelce can barely understand you.

But that doesn’t matter, cause he makes you hold his arm so you don’t get separated from him while he walks you to the less-crowded bathroom upstairs.

When you get there, you quickly unwrap your arms from Kelce’s bicep and rush out a ‘thank you so so much, Kelcey’. Which makes him chuckle, knowing that Rafe would mope if he heard it.

It’s been 10 minutes, and Kelce grows a bit worried. He’s confused as to why it’s taken you so long.

“Hey uh, Dollie? You alright in there..?” He questions as he knocks his finger on the door.

“Mhm! Jus’ tryna…Button m’damn shorts.” You slur, and Kelce hears your heavy footsteps through the door.

Kelce hears you murmur ‘Dumb fuckin’ nails…Won’t lemme do shit’, before a girl wearing a Tinker Bell costume grabs his attention.

Now if Kelce was in the right state of mind, he would’ve never left you alone. But right now, with quite a bit of alcohol in his system, he’s not thinking clearly.

So after another five minutes when you finally walk out of the bathroom and see a random guy leaned against the wall, smirking at you, instead of Kelce, you panic.

“Wha’s good pretty girl?” He coos, similar to how your boyfriend would, but more sinisterly.

You sort-of sober up at this, despite having 3 shots and 2 of Sarah’s cocktail things. But your mind still remains foggy.

You don’t respond at first, for some reason you think he’s talking to someone behind you, until he grabs your arm when you try to pass him.

“Nothin’? C’mon talk to me doll.”

You don’t like how the nickname sounds coming from his mouth, and you stammer to try and respond.

“Jus’ wanted to use the bathroom..”You whimper meekly.

You’re looking around for Kelce or even Rafe, but you can hardly tell whether or not this guy really is pink.

“Dollie? You up here babe?”

You whip your head back, too quickly unfortunately, and you see Sarah coming up the stairs.

….Not without tripping up the step once or twice, though.

“Oh m’gosh Dollie, I’ve been looking everywhere for you! Listen, I found some more shit, ‘n I could totally make one of those cool Bloody Mary’s—“

The drunk blonde cuts off her rambling once she opens her eyes and looks at you.

You’re grimacing, while trying to pull your arm away from this guy, who seemingly has a painful grip on you. And you can barely stand straight.

Sarah’s eyes widen, and from the looks of it, all of the alcohol from the night has suddenly vanished from her body.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?!” Sarah nearly barks at the boy as she takes a few steps closer, trying to steady herself.

“This doesn’t concern you, bitch,” he sneers, making you inhale the smell of alcohol from his breath due to the close proximity.

Sarah’s practically stomping across the hallway, reaching for your hand.

“It obviously concerns me since you’re gripping my best friend, you cunt.”

When the blonde girl finally reaches you, the drunken kook shoves her straight into the wall, making you shout for Sarah.

You’re pushing against the man, begging him to just let you go, while he’s trying to drag you back into one of the dark rooms of the house.

Meanwhile, Rafe’s freaking the fuck out downstairs, and honestly, he’s about to flip this entire house upside down.

He’s taking large steps, walking with a purpose as he finally spots Topper. He smacks a rough hand on his shoulder, interrupting Topper’s conversation with the girl from earlier.

“Yo, Topper, you seen my sister?”

Topper turns around, nearly snarling due to the mention of his ex girlfriend.

“No, dude, why the fuck would I know where she is?”

Rafe’s nose flares, he’s growing more and more irritated by the minute at the thought of you being out of his line of sight.

“Don’t fucking catch an attitude with me, and I don’t really care where the fuck my sister is, I’m looking for Dollie.”

There’s a beat of silence between them, despite the loud surroundings, then somebody’s rushing to Rafe before Topper can even respond.

It’s some random pogue, which angers Rafe even more, — but he’d never tell you that though.

“Rafe! This guy just shoved Sarah into the wall upstairs,” he rushes out through his panting, since he had sprinted down the stairs moments prior.

“And, and he keeps grabbin’ on Dollie-“ Rafe immediately starts charging upstairs.

His large strides make everyone turn towards him, wondering what made Rafe Cameron furious this time.

Rafe swears that his heart is going to pound out of his chest; this is the exact reason as to why he wanted you at his side tonight.

He knew not to let you drink with Sarah, because everytime the two of you are left alone together with alcohol, it doesn’t end well.

Rafe’s taking two steps at a time, he’s balling his fists so tightly that his knuckles are turning white.

He swings around the banister, then he sees a group of people holding back a guy who’s cursing loudly, and flailing his body.

“She was fucking asking for it, get the fuck off me!”

Then as he’s walking up, he sees Sarah slap him, and reach into her boot.

“You dirty. Fucking. Freak!” Sarah yells, putting emphasis on every word she spits.

And at the end of her shouting, she sprays her mace in the boy’s face. She’s waving her bedazzled pepper spray container wildly, making the boys holding the kook avert their faces.

Rafe whips his sister around, “what the fuck is going on? Where’s Dollie?”

Sarah huffs at the brunette’s harshness. “She locked herself in the bathroom after I managed to get the guy off her.”

Rafe nearly bulldozes through the forming crowd and parks himself right in front of the door.

But he hesitates to knock.

He urgently wants to get to you, to pull you into his arms and take you straight home. He wants to go through the after-party ritual you both have:

First, he’d always set you down in the kitchen as soon as you both got home, so he could get you a glass of water.

Then after you went into your shared room, he’d help you take off your shoes and clothes, so you could eventually get changed into something comfier.

Then, he’d remove whatever makeup you're wearing, and then tie your hair up —however that may be.

Rafe loves taking care of you, you’re always so stubborn when it comes to him pampering you.

You love the princess treatment, really! But you’re afraid of asking for too much, and Rafe vowed to spend the rest of his life proving to you that there’s no such thing as ‘too much’ with him.

Rafe wants to do all that with you right now, but he knows that you’re startled, frightened even. So he needs to calm down before trying to reach you.

His breathing is uneven, borderline ragged. There’s a slight shake in his hand, and quite frankly, Rafe can’t tell if it’s from sheer rage, or it’s because he can’t handle the thought of scaring you further.

He knocks at the door.

•······················•

There’s a knock at the door.

A gasp rips from your throat, breaking you out of the almost trance that you’re in.

You’re sitting in the bathtub, it’s gross, you’re aware of this. But you’re too shaken up and tipsy to even care.

You just want to be as far away from the door as possible.

“Hey, uh, Dollie? You in here?” You hear it come from the other side of the door, it’s muttered softly.

“S’me, baby.” He continues, although he didn’t need to, because you know that voice like the back of your hand.

“Ray….” You croak, you try to speak more than one singular word, but silence grips your throat.

You can’t seem to move, your joints remain still, but your chest is heaving wildly.

You know you need to get up, you need to unlock the door so Rafe can help you, but your buckled knees keep you grounded at the bottom of the tub.

You open your mouth to speak but only a choked sob escapes.

“Okay, okay. I’ll—I’ll be there in a second, baby.”

Your head leans back on the wall, and you take in your surroundings. You’re in Topper’s bathroom, you can tell because he’s the only one with a bathroom that doesn’t connect to his bedroom.

Kelce must’ve brought you here since it was the closest one. You wonder where Kelce is now.

The sound of the doorknob rattling makes you jump—almost out of your skin.

The door swings open, nearly clashing against the wall. You lock eyes with your boyfriend.

He whispers, “oh Dollie,” and rushes towards you.

Rafe picks your body up out of the tub, and lays you in his lap. Your position similar to a baby being held; Rafe couldn’t help it.

You cried in his arms, despite not wanting to cry in front of him, your resolve had slipped.

This wasn’t your first time having an issue like this, but it had never reached this point before.

Everyone in Kildare County knew you were Rafe’s girl, just like how they knew Rafe was your man, so nobody had dared to go past a few flirty remarks, or even a sly glance.

It was Rafe’s fault, he was sure of it. If he had just found you and took you to the car with him, none of this would’ve happened.

“Don’t do that, Rafe,” you murmur through your sniffles, your voice still holding that rasp from earlier.

“..Do what?”

“Blame yourself. I know that’s what you’re doing, Stop it.” You place a soft hand on his cheek, making you cringe due to all of the surfaces you’ve been touching.

Rafe presses a warm kiss to your temple and caresses your back

There’s a pause, but neither of you mind; the bathroom serving as a temporary solace for you.

You’re rubbing circles on Rafe’s arm while he rests his chin on your head. Whispers are exchanged between the two of you, until you decide that it’d be best to just head home.

Before leaving, though, you make sure Sarah at least has a ride home, for whenever she decides to leave.

You asked Rafe if you could talk to Kelce before leaving, but he refused. Simply stating that you could call him tomorrow.

You pouted at this, but you understand his reasoning, well at least you somewhat could through your haze.

While Rafe’s helping you step down the steps, you see John B walking up.

“Rafe.” John B says, acknowledgingly.

Rafe’s eyes slant, “John B.”

You perk up with a smile, “hi John B!!” You exclaimed with a slur, and with a little too much enthusiasm for Rafe’s liking.”

“Hi, Dollie,” John B smiles at you, and gives you a high-five, making you squeal in your drunken state.

After 10 minutes of Rafe trying to guide you, and you tripping over your own feet, you both finally made it to Rafe’s car.

While he’s buckling you in, Rafe can’t help but think about when you gifted him this car for his birthday.

Well, you picked it out, Ward had actually bought it.

He remembers when you first placed the keys in his hand, you were nearly bouncing in place waiting for his reaction.

Now he’s gotten cars before, in fact, that’s all Ward usually gets him every other birthday besides a watch. But this one, was one you picked out. So he knew he was going to cherish this for the rest of his life.

That same night, you told him about how Ward and you were at the car dealership for hours, since you refused to take any of the cars they originally offered you.

- -

“Y’know I would’ve liked any of ‘em, you didn't have to spend so much time on it. You could’ve gotten me a smoothie, and I think I still would’ve loved it.”

“Woww,” you drag out with a hushed whisper. “You think?”

Rafe poked your side, making you giggle.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding! But I wanted it to be special.

Couldn’t just pick out any ordinary one. I dunno, I’m surprised you like it so much, since you already have a car and a dirt bike.”

- -

If only you truly knew how much he appreciates everything you do for him.

As soon as Rafe reaches his side of the car and enters, he looks over and sees you slumped back, since he lowered your seat back to get you comfortable.

Your hair’s a bit wild, your lipgloss is almost fully gone, probably from the sweet residue being left on every bottle you’ve touched tonight.

Your mouth is open slightly, and Rafe thinks it’s the cutest thing.

If you found out, he knows you’d be beyond mortified. So, Rafe will just keep this moment locked away for himself.

Honestly, he wishes he could keep you locked away for himself, as selfish as it is.

He can’t help it. You make him whole.

He’s a satellite, and he can’t get back without you.

Because you’re his love; his life.

#lee’s writing! ₍ᐢ. ̫.ᐢ₎#Spotify #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #outer banks #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx x reader #obx x you

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rinkkuma · 11 months ago

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୨୧ FALLING ALSEEP ON JJK BOYS

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! / author's note. second thursday without jjk i think im going insane…. leaks are back tomorrow though im so scared.

SATORU giggles and coos in his head because of how cute you look with your head on his shoulder. (a few slip out loud though) pulls you in a little closer by the waist and gently places his head on top of yours. he sighs contently before taking a few photos, and maybe or maybe not setting it as his wallpaper. after a while, he gets worried about the strain on your neck since you'll probably be asleep for the night a while, he carefully moves your head onto his lap. satoru then covers you up with a blanket before running his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes.

YUTA is terrified to move. (even to breathe, matter of fact) not because he's uncomfortable, but because the poor boy is scared to wake you up on accident. after calming himself down, he then nearly stops breathing again when he realizes you're wearing his hoodie. a few minutes later after he actually calms himself down, he carefully pulls you closer and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. sooner or later, yuta gets sleepy himself and tucks the two of you under the warm covers with the soft patter of the rain in the background. (he takes like a solid 10 minutes to place a pillow under your head because he's doing it so slowly and carefully)

SUGURU presses soft kisses all over your face to further lull you to sleep. he simultaneously rubs circles on your back to further assure that you're comfortable. brushes any stray pieces of hair that go in front of your eyes, (not that you would care or know anyways since you're asleep) and just admires your face. he cups your face with his hands and fights the urge to kiss your face this time to make sure you don't wake up. when it gets late into the night, he ever so carefully carries you into the bedroom. he feels terrible when he has to wake you up to change into your pajamas or to do your skincare. when he has to though, he insists on doing your skincare with gentle care. and hands

YUUJI squeezes you impossibly close to him. your head is rested on his chest, with his steady breath soothing you. you had fallen asleep while you, yuuji, megumi, and nobara were having a movie night in yuuji's dorm. nobara immediately starts wiggling her eyebrows and starts whistling before yuuji decides to kick her and megumi out of his room. (megumi has no clue why he's being kicked out too since he did not participate in nobara's activities, but he's used to it at this point) with you in his arms and head on his chest, and the remote on the opposite side of the bed from him is a recipe for disaster. after multiple attempts of trying to grab the remote to turn off the tv, (he even tries using his foot) he huffs and eventually gives up and closes his eyes, hugging you tight.

MEGUMI is not phased at all. numerous people have told him his shoulder was comfortable to lay on. (those people being yuuji and nobara) the second that you tell him this, he declares to not let anyone lay their head on his shoulder but you. he immediately puts his phone down and slowly pulls you into his arms, and lays you down on the couch since he knows sleeping sitting up isn't the ideal napping position. he is always a little hesitant to stroke your cheek or touch your face whenever you're sleeping, but he always ends up doing it anyways because of how cute you look, and thankfully you never wake up. (at least he thinks and hopes)

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writerpeach · 6 months ago

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Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

aespa Karina x m!reader

10k words

---

Read on AO3

Masterlist

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."

"Nearly one."

"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"

"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”

"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.

"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could."

"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."

“Sounds like you had a fun night.”

"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state.

“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."

Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp.

"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.

"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."

"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."

Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.

"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."

"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."

"Yizhuo?" you ask.

"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends."

"Don't think I have."

"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.

"She's learned from the best, I suppose."

"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."

"Really?"

“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."

"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina."

"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that.

“I’m serious!”

"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly.

"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.”

Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.

"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.

"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"

"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else."

"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."

"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.

"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.

"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."

"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."

"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."

"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."

"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."

"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—"

"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.

"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"

"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.

"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."

Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."

And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.

The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.

"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin.

“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close.

You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"

Karina knows she's won.

As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.

"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.

"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.

You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina.

"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting."

Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now.

"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"

"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it.

"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word.

"Y-yeah, I—"

"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about."

"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.”

You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now.

"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?"

"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."

"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go.

"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie."

Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain.

Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.

Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"

A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go.

"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity.

“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire.

You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal.

"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"

"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste.

It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.

"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?"

You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you.

There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.

"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.

All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.

"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.

You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh.

"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"

Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.”

Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?”

"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.

You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with.

"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets.

The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin.

Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here.

"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.

"Only get to do this for the first time once."

“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head.

"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.

Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist.

Now it all comes together.

Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most.

"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that.

"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up.

"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"

There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes.

"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all.

She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants.

"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"

Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight.

"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."

Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.

"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her.

There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make.

"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.

"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"

Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“

A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind.

"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“

She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned.

It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture.

It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around.

"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp.

"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat.

Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."

Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging.

"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat.

"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.

"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—

Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.

And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory.

With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it.

“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.

“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits."

You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body.

But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.

"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.

You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage.

"Can't take much more—"

Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"

You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off.

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to."

That's all it takes.

Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking.

Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have.

And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made.

"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"

Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.

"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"

"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."

"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"

There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now.

"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be.

“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"

You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words.

There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.

Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.

"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store.

So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.

"Rina—"

"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"

"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen.

"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."

"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it?

Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy.

"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum."

Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.”

"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"

Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.

“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.

It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"

You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over.

Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.

"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"

"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in.

Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you.

You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.

"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms.

It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.

"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.

All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.

Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention.

Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger.

"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you.

And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.

"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like.

"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"

Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."

The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—

"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.

It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay.

“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high.

A question like that only has one answer.

"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.

And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.

It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second.

And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.

"Good boy..."

The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again.

Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?"

You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers.

It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position.

"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“

It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs.

“Both."

Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open.

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."

✦ ✦

When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks.

And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy.

With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.

No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame.

Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it.

It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—

“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you.

But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere.

"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.

"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"

And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."

You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.

Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—

Yizhuo.

It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.

"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"

"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on.

"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"

"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."

"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.

"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?"

"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her.

"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"

"He's my roommate!"

Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"

"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—

"And you fuck him?"

"Yizhuo!"

"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"

"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."

Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"

"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."

And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame.

"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.

"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie."

"She's cute, too."

"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?"

"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.

"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."

You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have."

"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.

"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment.

"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.”

"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"

And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.

“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time."

"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"

"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.

You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."

And you can't possibly resist that.

#kpop smut #aespa smut #karina smut #reader insert #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #male reader #reader x karina

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fake-bleach · 4 months ago

Text

HOTEL ROOM | SOLDIER BOY x READER

"babysitting" a nearing hundred year old supe wasn't your ideal day, nor was it ever on your bucket list. but, maybe it'll be worthwhile.

word count: 7k

WARNINGS/DISCLAIMERS: (18+ only!) fem!reader, slight slow burn but very much worth it, porn w/ somewhat much plot & angst/fluff, praise/degrading, use of pet names (honey, baby, sweetheart, etc), drugs i.e. snorting shit (oops, but what else did u expect w/ him..), handjob, piv, unprotected gradual rough sex, tiny bit of hair pulling, coming inside, i thinkk that might be it? happy ending :p another disclaimer: soldier boy's def much softer/vulnerable here cus i feel like reader can change him :) (i'm delusional) :) hope u enjoy! <33

ao3 link! | my masterlist

it’s not like you wanted to babysit.

and by babysit, i mean watching a 100 year old supe that was still very much alive and well. did i also mention that he was an asshole?

probably not, but you should know that too.

“butcher! no fucking way, there's no fucking way i’m doing this shit!”

you whispered loudly in the british man’s face, trying to make sure that supe couldn’t hear you. but, god, what could that man not do?

butcher rolled his eyes at you, that constant, smug smirk plastered on his face as he shook his head. “oh, c’mon love. you’ll be fine. all he’ll do is watch the telly, snort some shit, and talk ya’ ear off,” he laughed as he stared at your annoyed expression, “i need you here, anyway. can’t have anything happen to you, you got that?”

you turned away from him for a moment, crossing your arms and glancing at the infamous man sat on the hotel bed. you bit the inside of your cheek, sighing out as your head hung low, staring at the floor. for once, you just wanted butcher to take you seriously. to bring you along for the important shit, not this.

but, what else could you do?

you moved to face him again, letting out a noise of disapproval, but your words showing otherwise. “fine, fine, okay. just this one fucking time, okay? you owe me.” you spoke loudly now, your irritation extremely evident.

“oh, come on, doll. am i really that bad?”

soldier boy’s ben’s voice made you flinch; his booming voice sending a rush throughout your body. one part of you was afraid, and the other annoyed. you whipped your head to look at him, his large frame stood in front of you now. he was more than just large; he was powerful.. intimidating. and you’d be lying to yourself if he wasn’t at least a.. little attractive to you. but, you couldn’t let that affect you.

he also had an unbearable ego that practically everyone around him could sense, his arrogant smile directed towards you nearly making your blood boil.

“considering how much of a conceited asshole you are, i’d say yes,” you bit back at him, returning a condescending grin in response.

ben whistled then, his smile never faltering as he took in your powerful presence and words. “phew! she’s a feisty one, yeah? she yours or is she for the taking?” he teased butcher as a low laugh erupted from him, making you groan. to your surprise, though, his question sounded genuine.

“oh, fuck you! i’m not anyone’s!” you let out, tightening your crossed arms as your eyes moved to butcher. he all but laughed, pursing his lips as he shook his head at ben, pausing for a moment. “oi, play nice you two. can’t be coming back to this room in shambles..” his eyes flickered between you and ben, licking his lips, “but, to answer your question; no, she ain’t, but good luck tryin’, mate. i tried it myself.”

you punched butcher’s shoulder at that, scoffing. “don’t encourage him, you asshole.”

butcher laughed, raising his hands in surrender and giving you an almost apologetic look as he backed up, starting to walk towards the hotel room door. “alright, bye now, love. and you–” he pointed towards ben, his face hardening for a second, “behave, will ya?”

you watched him open the door, shutting it behind him as dread filled your every being. you turned to ben again, his eyes already fixed on you with that same smirk.

“oh yeah, i’ll definitely behave.”

only a few hours in, and you already feel like you’re going insane.

a ton of snarky remarks and about a million snorts of cocaine later, you’re just fighting the throbbing headache that’s building up. hell, anyone would feel the same in your position.

ben was sitting at the small table, you at the end of the bed right next to it, surrounded by fast food and pills. using the end of his knife, he was crushing the small tablets on the table, turning them into fine, white powder. it made you cringe, to say the least.

you watched him as he lined it up, sliding his nose through it eagerly as he sniffed, snorting the line completely. he let out a groan of satisfaction, the white powder stuck on his skin as the high he so desperately craved filled his body.

you let out a quiet chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. for one of the greatest supes in the history of mankind, he was certainly a treasure.

not.

“what are you laughin’ at, huh?” ben looks at you, his face firm as he poses the question. your lips flip, pursing, then frowning slightly as you shake your head. “oh, nothing, nothing. you just.. love that shit, don’t you?” you accuse, a small chuckle escaping your lips again.

his face shifts, a faint smile presented. “what? you want some, is that it?”

“oh no, god no. don’t want any coke of yours, no thank you.” you turn him down instantly, almost as if you couldn’t dream of it.

he laughs now, the deep gravel in it making you shudder slightly. “s’not cocaine, sweetheart. something like it, yeah, but not coke,” he informs you, watching intently as you return your attention to him, interest piquing. you didn’t know much about these kinds of drugs, surprisingly enough considering the people you surrounded yourself with, but you weren’t completely innocent.

he takes notice of your sudden curiosity; your eyes widening just a tad bit more than usual. the way your body language shifts. he notices it all.

cocking his head slightly, he lets out a small chuckle again. “you ever done drugs before, sweetheart?” he asks sincerely, wanting to know. you deny, shaking your head, “no, i mean– i’ve smoked weed maybe once, but i don’t know– never had a reason to do it again, i guess.”

he raises an eyebrow at that, leaning back against the chair he was sat in and crosses his arms. “that so? i’m shocked,” he hums, biting the inside of his cheek at he stares at you, “powerhouse like you, i woulda’ expected you to do allll that crazy shit.”

you snort, looking at him in disbelief. “you got the wrong idea of me then, soldier boy.” you tell him, emphasizing his name. boost his ego a bit more for the fun of it, y’know?

he snickers, staring at you as if you were some puzzle he needed to solve. “do i?” he pushes, leaning a bit forward, “i don’t think i do.”

you roll your eyes at him. “and why’s that?”

he breathes out, grinning even wider. “sweetheart, you’ve got it written all over you.”

your eyebrows furrow at him, confused. the fuck did he mean by that?

before you could question him, he beats you to it, laying it on you.

“i mean, your attitude with butcher earlier? i don’t know about you, but that don’t sound like someone who takes shit.” he scoffs, his eyes locked on you as he pauses.

“...and you’re not taking any of mine, are you?”

you breathe out through your nose, licking your drying lips and taking in his words. “no, no i guess i’m not,” you admit, appreciating the slight bit of generosity from him, “but, what’s that gotta do with me and your drugs?” you laugh, unable to connect the two.

ben shakes his head, uncrossing his arms and moving his forearm on top of the table, leaning on it. “you’re a curious one, aren’t you? that’s why you didn’t wanna stay with me, right? y’wanted to go out there, save the fuckin’ world, huh?” he inquires, giving you the perfect opportunity to tease him instead of taking him seriously.

“well, no. i actually didn’t wanna stay with you because you’re an–”

“stop being a fuckin’ nag and answer the question.”

his voice booms in your ears, the direct intimidation from him working on you like a charm. you swallow, eyes shifting to look at the table for a moment before returning to him.

“fine, whatever, i guess you’re right, yeah, i’m.. curious. but, fuck..” you lick your bottom lip, shaking your head as you stare out in front of you, “you try being part of this shit for years, and not being given any opportunity to..” you trail off, huffing.

“to be a hero?” ben questions.

you turn to him now, sad eyes staring into his own. “to be a hero.”

he shakes his head, wiping his mouth and nose as he inhales sharply. “you don’t want that life, kid. trust me.”

your jaw falls open a bit at him, your voice rising, “what the hell do you know about what i want? you don’t know me.”

he huffs, his hand pressing into his knee as leverage as his body leans in towards you, scoffing.

“the fuck did i go through? huh? i was asleep for decades, sweetheart. much before that, i was tortured and experimented on and treated like a piece of fucking meat. an animal.” you stare at him sadly, your demeanor falling as he looks at you with hardened eyes.

“being a fuckin’ hero..” he shakes his head, laughing as his head lowers to look down at his lap, “look where the fuck that got me.” he mutters out, his upper lip twitching as he breathes heavily.

silence fills the room between you two as the faint background noise from the television whirs. you didn’t know what to say. you just knew that maybe.. you were wrong about soldier boy– ben.

he was avoiding your gaze, his chest rising and falling in an attempt to calm himself down. you swallow, pursing your lips. “ben.. i’m sorry you went through that, i really am,” you began, causing him to lift his head at you, “but.. that doesn’t change the fact that you’ve helped people. you’ve saved people. and, yeah, maybe sometimes you weren’t the good guy, but.. you’ve done more than what a lot of people would.”

he looks at you with doe eyes, taking in your little speech. he nods, and it’s almost as if he can’t possibly believe you, but he does. he decides to trust you as your words give him the slightest bit of hope in his heart. an emotion he hasn’t felt all these years.

he sniffs suddenly, clearing his throat and shaking his head as if he were shaking himself out of it. “yeah, well, maybe you’re right. still wouldn’t want yo–” he pauses, cutting himself off, “uh, y’know, going through that.”

you give him a small smile, understanding him completely. it was hard for him to be vulnerable; you knew that now. but, you appreciated his efforts nonetheless. it made you see him.. differently. the way he spoke to you about his experiences.. you wondered if there truly was a good man underneath that harsh persona.

“well, thank you.. soldier boy.”

“oh, stop with that shit. ben.”

you smile. “ben.”

“alright, love. m’ sorry, i promise i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

you groan into the phone held against your ear, picking up the words of the same british man on the other end of the line. god, i’m never letting him off the hook, you thought to yourself.

“okay, yeah, whatever.”

“don’t stay mad at me–”

you cut him off, “bye, butcher.”

“bye, love.”

you hear him end the phone call, the sound making you throw your phone down on the bed irritatedly. “the fuck happened?” ben asks you as he sits up on the bed, putting the remote down from surfing through channels with you for hours now. it was nighttime before you knew it, and you spent most of the day talking to ben here and there, as well as watching random shows and movies. certain topics were definitely touchy, but you were starting to get to know him more, and him with you.

you huff, walking over to the empty side of the bed to sit down next to him, crossing your arms. “we gotta stay here for the night. butcher n’ hughie are being held up with some.. shit, and don’t want us leaving without them.”

he lets out a chuckle towards your frustration. “don’t see a problem with that.”

you roll your eyes, turning to face him. “of course you don’t, you’re like– a million years old. i’m bored!” you whine, groaning. you don’t mean to act immature or fussy, but fuck, you were younger than him and needed other kinds of entertainment to survive (dramatically put). shitty television just wasn’t doing it for you.

he scoffs, “oh, fuck you. i can be plenty of fun, doll.”

“oh, yeah? prove it.” you reply, raising an eyebrow.

he smirks at you then, leaning in a bit closer as his face grows snarky. “you want me to show you fun?” he teases.

you groan, grimacing, “ugh, grossss..” you draw out, swallowing sharply as you turn away.

what you didn’t want to do was recognize the butterflies you felt at the thought. or the way your heart skipped a beat at him growing closer towards you. fuck, no.

he snickers, eyes still fixed on you completely. “oh, c’mon, honey. y’know i’m a great fuck. n’ besides.. it’s been awhile..” he teases you further, and he makes it sound so sleazy that it feels like a joke; fuck, maybe he really was just trying to rile you up.

you shake your head though, playing along. “nice try, ben. gonna have to try harder than that, though.” you stand your ground, giving him a faux smile.

he raises his hands in surrender, shrugging his shoulders. “hey, i’ll fuckin’ work for it, baby, i’ll tell you that much.” he admits, grinning at you.

you try your hardest to keep your composure, fighting the heat growing in your face, especially with that new nickname he gives you. a weak spot.

fuck. this was gonna be much harder than you thought.

you’re finishing the leftover fries that ben requested earlier, snagging them from his side as you laid next to him on the bed; cold and soggy, and definitely not appetizing, but you’re working with what you’ve got. you feel the bed shift before looking up at ben, his eyes on you as he moves.

“so, other ideas of fun..” ben trails, standing up from the bed and walking towards the table.

“i’m listening..” you curiously give in.

he grabs his knife, pouring out the remainder of his pills, and starts to crush them, noticing the way his eyes look up at you, eyebrows raised.

“you do a line with me. just one–” he suggests, his attention focused to see how you’ll react. “and you can loosen up for fuckin’ once.”

you grimace at his suggestion, denying him immediately. “no, ben, i don’t.. i don’t know. this isn’t my kind of thing, you know that..” you speak, evidently unsure of the act. come on, snorting some random, crushed up pills? didn’t sound like much fun to you.

he puts the knife down, turning his entire body to fully face you now. “hey, you said you were curious, didn’t you?” he raises an eyebrow, “doesn’t hurt to try it once. besides.. you can trust me, can’t you?” he teases, a sly smile on his face.

you huff, “yeah, sure. sure i can.” you joke at him, sarcasm filling your voice entirely. your face drops though, seriously contemplating his inquiry. “okay, seriously, though. it won’t fuck me up.. completely, right?”

he laughs at your question, his low voice rumbling. “not unless you take more than you can handle, baby.” he tells you, starting to crush the pills again. “i’m right here, though. i’ll getcha’ through it. promise.”

you were shocked at how.. kind he was being with you. how utterly careful he was with you now. it was odd, to say the least. but, you liked this side of him. maybe that’s why you were starting to feel so comfortable with him now.

you think about it for a few seconds longer before ultimately coming to a decision. “i.. okay, okay. just once.” you agree, nervously standing up from the bed and approaching the table, pulling up another chair to sit next to him.

fuck it. what else did you have to lose?

sitting down, you watch carefully as he proceeds to crush up the pills, examining how fine the powder turned. ben uses the knife to separate it, forming some of it into a line that was a bit shorter than what you saw him repeatedly snort earlier.

was he making sure he wasn’t giving you too much? maybe. you didn’t want to think of it too much.. his intentions. you couldn’t.

you swallow tensely, eyes flickering from the table to his face as he finishes, his own setting themselves on you. he gives you a small smile; an almost encouraging kind, providing you with a bit of comfort.

he raises an eyebrow at you. “you ready?”

“uh,” you stammer out, biting your bottom lip, “what exactly.. is it, though? i mean, what’s it gonna do to me?” you ask warily, second thoughts arising in your head.

he sighs out as he attempts to think of what to say. “these here are bennies, as we call em’. or, well– what i call em’,” he lets out a small laugh, cocking his head, “they’re amphetamines. they’ll just.. give ya’ a bit more energy.. that euphoria people talk about,” he explains to you as thoroughly as he can, “shouldn’t last too long, n’ if anything, you can try to sleep it off, sweetheart. no harm, no foul.”

he watches your face as you absorb his answer, noticing your features relax with each second that passes. he grins even more, listening to you.

“okay.. okay, doesn’t sound.. too bad. let’s do it,” you quickly spur out, shaking yourself out of it. “fuck it.”

“atta girl.” he gleames, his hand lifting to rub your upper back gently for just a moment; a moment long enough to send chills down your spine. the first time he’s really made any physical contact with you, and you’re already a mess.

fuck, why did that feel good? why did that sound good? it was a harmless gesture.

you need that high, and you need it now. maybe that was the only way you could get through this long ass night with him.

“okay. do i just.. sniff it, uh?” you ask him, letting out an embarrassed laugh as your lips turn upwards. he nods, his own lips curling. “don’t overthink it. you’ve seen me do it a hundred times now,” he tells you confidently, muttering out the last words, “y’know what to do, honey.”

you just nod, leaning your head forward and slowly putting your nose against the right side of the line. before you can allow yourself to back out, you slide your nose towards the left, snorting it completely. you lift your head up, an abrupt cough escaping your throat as your nose burns, your eyes rolling back before shutting tightly.

“oh, there you fucking go. there you go, baby, there you go..” ben softly praises you, his words almost echoing in your ears as your head thumps. his hand returns back to your skin as he rubs your back in circular motions, your breathing growing heavy as you feel the drug enter your system.

“oh, fuck, ben, what the fuck!” you let out, a laugh escaping your throat as your head grows hazy. you turn to him, his hand still rubbing your back, which was definitely helping, and you grin widely. “that was fucking crazy!” you all but yell, excitement getting the best of you. what a way to show your experience, huh?

he chuckles, shaking his head as he stares at you. “alright, don’t get ahead of yourself, peaches. barely gave you half of what i’d normally do,” ben tells you, teeth bare as his smile widens, “that’s enough shit for you, little lady. can’t be too much of a bad influence on ya’, can i? butcher would rip me a new one.. or he’d try, at least.”

you giggle at that, your composure slowly, but surely, fading. “oh ben, aren’t you supposed to be a big n’ bad supe?” you breathe out, “he’s just a man.. and you’re a.. superhero.. y’wouldn’t let him..” you murmur out, eyes dazed out as you look at the man in front of you. his scruffy beard.. his messy hair.. the details in his skin.. fuck.

was he always this pretty?

you giggle again, his hand slowly lowering to the midst of your back to rest there. he chuckles lowly; an action that makes your breath hitch. “oh, sweetheart.. you’re feeling it already, aren’t you? quicker than i thought..” he trails off, cocking his head, “you think i’m some big, bad supe? s’that it?” he teases, lips curling up as he breathes you in, inching just a tad bit closer. “think i wouldn’t let him get one in?” he whispers.

you shake your head, smile dropping as your face hardens. “no, no, i wouldn’t, nuh uh,” you deny, biting your lip as energy suddenly surges through you, your filter entirely out the window. “i’ve seen you, you know? i mean, who hasn’t? videos of.. the way you fight.. you’re strong..” you mutter, swallowing as you giggle again, “so strong.”

he laughs, his index and middle finger connecting to rub subtle circles on your skin, “have you now?” he asks almost matter-of-factly, “you did research on me, baby?”

your stomach drops a bit, butterflies storming your stomach at the nickname again. you stammer out, “no, no, not research– i mean– yeah, i.. searched you up, but i jus’ wanted to see who you were before i.. came here, but.. s’not like i.. put that much thought into it, i–” you spit out, an involuntary laugh erupting from you as your cheeks heat up from your confession. a lie that escapes straight through your teeth.

oh god. why the fuck were you saying all of this shit outloud? stop!

he shrugs, a sly frown swift on his lips. “don’t gotta make a fuss about it, honey. s’cute. real sweet of you..” he grins, the hand so glued onto your back sliding down sleekly, fingers gripping onto your hip now. you gasp softly at the sudden touch, his grasp on you pulling you just a bit closer to him. your chairs are right next to each other, hips nearly joined together now. he whispers out, his mouth close enough to catch your ear, “sweet girl like you.. i’m honored you think of me that way. wouldn’t have suspected it from how feisty you were earlier.”

you roll your eyes at him, avoiding the flutter in your core as the drug builds up inside of you, fighting it. “oh, come on. you probably used to get this shit all of the time.”

he breathes out, shaking his head. “not from people i want it from..” his jaw falls open as his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, murmuring, “..not from you.”

your breath hitches in your throat, turning your head to look at him as your cheeks flush. you gulp, heartbeat quickening as you notice his gaze entirely locked on you. he was being serious. this wasn’t some kind of sick game of his.

you remain quiet, unsure how to respond. too nervous, too dazed to come up with some snarky remark you usually would; that you should bite back with. but, you don’t.

instead, ben’s fingers dance on your hip subtly, his other hand lifting up to caress your face; his thumb gliding against your cheek, trailing down to your bottom lip as his gaze that was once on your eyes fixes onto your mouth.. gorgeous as ever.

his thumb catches itself on your lip, pulling it down gently as he hums, satisfied. you gulp, shaking your head gently as you process what this was leading up to.

“ben.. we shouldn’t..” you whisper out, shutting your eyes for a moment as you pull away from him; just enough to have his hold off of your face. he was a fucking supe, for christ sake. you were human. and sooner or later, he’d be gone again; just like that. you couldn’t. no matter how much you so desperately craved it.

he lets out a disappointed noise, breathing out through his mouth, “why not, sweetheart?” he closes in on you again, lips near your ear as he hums, “don’t you like me, baby? don’t you want me? i like you.. n’ i sure as hell.. need you..” he sighs out, his hot breath hitting the sensitive skin on your neck, your body trembling at the feeling.

you groan softly at his words and the touch of his breath against your skin, shutting your eyes tightly. he huffs, pushing his nose softly against your neck, inhaling your scent and rapidly muttering out, “c’mon, baby, c’mon.. gonna take care of you, yeah? make you feel good, don’t y’want that?” he presses kisses on your neck, slowly trailing up to your cheek as his hands move to cup your face, quiet gasps escaping your lips. your eyes open up hazily, rolling to the back of your head as you lift your neck just enough to give him more room.

you don’t even think before you’re pressing a sloppy kiss to his lips, quietly moaning into it as your eyes flutter shut again; your disoriented mind taking over your body completely. he groans against your mouth, his soft lips becoming so harsh against yours, needy and having been deprived of this pleasure for so long.

he pulls away from the kiss for a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breath as his large hand grips your face, the hold on it tight and rugged. he turns your head to the side, moving in to attack your neck once more with his lips, teeth grazing the skin as he grunts, his body closing in entirely.

it’s primal; instinctive and downright dirty the more he grows impatient. no longer gentle; not him, not now. he all but stands as he leans into you, his free hand moving from your back to your hips, wrapping his arm around you as he uses his super strength to lift you up effortlessly. you yelp as he picks you up, placing you directly on his lap as he settles himself back in his chair, your legs hung around his sides to the best of your ability.

“pretty fucking girl.. you stay right here..” he murmurs out, returning his kisses on you as if his seamless actions were nothing. his hands move to grip your hips tightly now, pushing you further into his lap as you involuntarily grind into him; his cock through those grey sweatpants of his beginning to harden.

“b-ben,” you stammer out, pants heavy as you let him touch you, feel you just how he wants, and you, taking him as you please. your hips and their movements quicken slowly, gradually building up and up the more your cunt throbs against his clothed skin; the way his strong hands keep you moving for him without a second to waste.

your cloudy mind from the drug intervenes with your control, unable to fully grasp your feelings or words that slip from your mind, keeping you completely vulnerable to the man below you.

god, did that annoy you.

but, fuck, did it feel so good.

“need you to fuck me, please, ben, please..” you whine out, grinding your core against his hardened cock faster, harder, your impatience getting the best of you. he laughs against your skin, a small moan seeping out of it as he gently bites your neck. “so needy, aren’t you, baby? gonna give you what you want, don’t you worry..”

the hands on your hips find themselves lowering, landing on your ass instantly as ben squeezes, groaning out at the feeling of your flush skin beneath his fingertips. he takes control of you easily, moving your body along his thighs and digging your cunt where he needs it the most.

the constant friction makes you wetter with each push of his hands, his cock imprinting against his sweatpants with a perfect outline, your panties growing soaked at the sensation of it. an incoherent string of noises falls out of your lips, the gasps and moans sounding like porn to ben’s ears. a satisfied laugh from him shakes you to your core, that deep rumble multiplying your arousal.

you take matters into your own hands, fingers pushing down against his wrists to get him to loosen his grip on you, which he does. you scoot yourself back to disconnect your body from his abdomen, hips stilling on his thighs now, giving you an enticing view of the strain in his pants.

“i said..” you breathe out, mouth falling open as you look into his eyes, lust pouring out of them, “i need you to fuck me,” you emphasize, your fingers moving to palm his bulging cock through his sweats, “so, fuck me.”

you can’t be bothered anymore. you’re past waiting.

your hands slowly find a rhythm as you maintain eye contact with him, ben immediately reacting with a low moan as his hips thrust needily, “fuck, baby..” he hisses out as your fingers slip to the waistband of his sweats, your hand reaching beneath the layer. to your surprise, and delight; no underwear.

god, he was a fucking whore. you loved it.

“jesus christ, ben,” you let out a laugh as you wrap your fingers around his cock, putting just enough pressure on it, and it makes him twitch against your touch. it elicits a throaty whine from his lips that has you clenching around nothing, squeezing him tighter, tighter. “jus’ take what you want, sweetheart, need you ‘round me, c’mon, ” ben spurs out rapidly, his words the least coherent they’ve been; his usual, old hollywood-esque diction in his voice gone.

soldier boy, begging you with your hands on his cock and your ass in his lap?

you couldn’t have possibly dreamt of this moment till now.

you try to hold yourself back, but the little amount of sobriety inside of you’s hardly strong enough to help you achieve that. no more waiting. not now.

“you’re lucky i’m impatient,” you breathe out, and before ben can react, you’re slipping his cock out of his sweats, the heavy weight of him on your hand sending you into a damn near spiral as he twitches against your fingers again, pre-cum practically leaking out of the tip.

you let go of him though, fingers desperately moving to the waistband of your loose sweats to slip them off. ben’s helping you immediately, lifting your hip for you with one hand, and the other hurriedly pushing them down, nearly ripping them off from the pace and force; off, off, off, he all but mutters out with eager noises.

“stupid fuckin’.. fuck, g’off–” ben grumbles until they’re successfully on the floor, and he sighs out in satisfaction, “no more fuckin’ waiting, n’more teasing.”

you nod hurriedly at him, bare legs exposed for him now as his fingers dig into your thighs, taking no second to waste to slide to the hem of your panties, fingers hooking onto them. “useless fuckin’ things,” ben murmurs, and before you can protest, he rips them off seamlessly, throwing them to the floor.

your jaw falls open, gasping out at him, “ben! fuck, i needed those! i didn’t pack any–”

he shuts you up instantly, his thick index and middle fingers finding your slit, swiping through your soaked folds, and you whine loudly, the sensation making your core tighten. he hushes you softly, looking up at you eagerly, “shh, shh, honey, y’don’t need that shit with me, not now. gonna fuck you right here. now. you’re soaked already.”

your heavy eyes stare into his own, nodding eagerly as the tip of his fingers bump against your clit, sending a jolt throughout your body. he moans with a short laugh, leaning in to press a messy kiss to your mouth, his other hand just above your ass. he taps your lower back, muttering, “come up here.. gonna have you sit on my cock.. get in as deep as i fucking can.”

you grunt at his words, whining, “fuck, please, ben..” as the sole thought of it sends pulses to your pussy. you nod frantically, immediately scooting closer on his lap to reach his member, kneeling on the sides of his body to lift yourself up. ben’s hand grips the base of his cock to lift it up, and he’s hard, the girth making you drool. you gulp, wondering how the fuck you’ll fit it in, but you’re too high to fucking care.

you position yourself above him, the fat head of it lined up to your cunt perfectly. his hand on your back helps you move closer, the tip nudging against your hole as both hands grip your hips now, fingers digging into your skin. you bite your lip as you look down at his cock, core tensing in preparation. staring into his eyes now, you move, lowering yourself slowly as your walls engulf him bit by bit, inch by inch.

both of you moan as you take him, clenching around him so much that you nearly see stars. you’re so tight around him, and he’s in heaven.

ben groans loudly as his eyes fix on your pussy, and it’s porn right in front of him. he sputters out mindless noises, gritting his teeth as you finally take him to the hilt, feeling his cock fill you up, nudging the deepest parts inside of you.

you hiss out as you sink, your thighs colliding with his own as you adjust to him. “you’re so fuckin’.. tight, oh fuck, sweetheart..” he whines out, and you’re relishing in this; in him. you start moving, hips involuntarily rocking against him as you move up and down. it’s messy; out of rhythm and desperate, but so fucking good.

“haven’t..” he grunts, gripping your hips harder for leverage, “fucked a pussy like this in a long fucking time.” his breaths grow louder the more you move, your throbbing hole just above the tip and slamming back down repeatedly. your core tightens as he starts to thrust up into you, meeting your synchronized movements immediately, and you cry out as you take it.

you blabber out mindlessly at the sensation, incoherent whines and what seems to sound like ben’s name over and over again filling his ears, and he just laughs, lifting himself from the back of the chair to sit up, adjusting you with him. his chest meets your body, chin resting on your shoulder as his hand finds your hair, gripping it tightly and pushing your body into him. he’s flush against your skin as he huffs into your ear, the hot breath engulfing your brain. your fucked out head and blown, wide eyes.

he moves against you as you bounce on his cock, words spurring out with his harsh pants on your skin, fingers tightening into your hair, “no thoughts in this pretty head, huh? nothin’ but my fucking cock in this cunt. s’how it should be. pretty girls like you.. s’what you’re made for.. made for me.”

your head scrambles at his words; the way they’re so filthy, but most of all?

because of how right he is.

he fits inside of you like a glove; a perfect hole that’s meant for him to fuck. it has your eyes lolling back over and over again, unable to truly focus on the task at hand. and when your movements begin to slow because of this, ben��s grip on you handles it for you, hips thrusting up into you aggressively. your stomach tightens repeatedly as the tip of his cock hits the deepest parts inside of you, practically bulging out with each hit into you, and it makes your pussy convulse around him, rambled noises escaping your lips.

“am i right, honey? are you made for me?” ben growls in your ear, his harsh grunts echoing, “fuckin’,” he huffs, “answer me..”

his words hardly register in your brain as you grow closer and closer to your release, short moans being the only thing you can muster out, along with a few noises that almost sound like ben’s name. “mmphf– b-be– ah–”

he shushes you, arms wrapped around your body, “don’t gotta think baby, just feel.. let me take you like this, just feel me..” ben whispers desperately into your ear, moving one of his hands to reach between you, the large palm pressing into your lower abdomen, “right fucking here. you’re gonna feel me for fucking days, baby.”

it has your stomach doing flips, body quivering against ben’s hold. your eyes shoot open as he begins to slow his thrusts, relying on pure power rather than speed now. his hips snap into you repeatedly, slow and deliberate as if he needs to make sure your body memorizes the shape of his cock.

and, knowing him? you probably will.

you know that you’ll never get fucked like this again. you know that you’re already completely ruined for any other man now. and a part of you’s okay with that.

his fingers gripping your hair. his hands digging into your skin. the strike of his hips, holding you captive for him as he takes you. how could you think of anything else?

ben’s power over you doesn’t relent at all, his super strength enough leverage to keep himself completely occupied. the hips slamming inside of you have you seeing stars now, your eyes threatening to twitch open in bliss as he buries himself in your throbbing cunt. you involuntarily flutter around him, walls pulsing as your core constricts.

you feel ben’s cock twitch inside of you, his moans growing heavier as he lets out a breathless laugh, “you’re so.. close, i can feel you, sweetheart..” he grunts and snarls, his thrusts quickening rapidly, “and you’re gonna come on my cock like the good girl you are.. while i fill you up.. make sure i stay in this sweet pussy forever.”

you cry out as that familiar heat in your stomach arises, blurting out nonsense, along with a, “p-please, ben, please–”, that leaves you panting.

“yeah, baby? want me to come inside of you, s’that it?”

you nod furiously, whining out as your face heats up at the thought, flush and its sensation overwhelming you. you’re hot all over, and you just need a release.

“that’s my girl.. my sweet girl. gonna come inside of you, give you what you need..” he breathes out against your ear, and before you realize it, you’re convulsing around his cock, yelping out as you come. your hands grip onto his back, his arms, anything you can hold onto as you ride through it.

“there we go, baby, just like that, my fuckin’ girl..” he encourages you, overstimulating you with his unrelenting hips as he buries himself inside of you over and over again, making you clench around him uncontrollably. you’re spewing out mindless moans as your walls spasm, and it makes ben whine.

he grunts out rapidly, unable to control the noises he makes as his hands on your hips feel tight enough to leave bruises, “gonna.. gonna fuckin’, oh– fuck!–” he moans loudly, cutting himself off as he pushes you down to the hilt, cock twitching rapidly with his come spilling inside of you. you feel the streams of hot white bury inside of you, and you’re lightheaded at the feeling, the aftershocks of your orgasm forming tears in your eyes.

you whine against him as you hold on tight, his hips rocking into you as you both ride it out. it’s almost intimate at how breathless the two of you are, taking in each other completely.

he huffs against your skin, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. it’s wordless, but it goes without saying.

this was a moment you’d never forget. and you hoped that he wouldn’t either.

eventually, ben lifts your hips up, his cock sliding out of you as the mess you both made slips out of your cunt, making you whine at the feeling of his come falling out of you. the slick catches itself on his cock, spilling onto his grey sweats sloppily, and you can’t deny the twinge of arousal the sight brings you. leave that for another time.

you take a deep breath as you let out a small laugh, preparing to say something about getting up and cleaning yourself up, but to your surprise, ben’s arm holds onto your body tightly, lifting you up as his other hand shoves his sweats down, feet stepping out of them. he’ll deal with it later.

you yelp as he stands up fully with you in his arms, carrying you as he walks over to the shitty hotel bathroom, lowering you to stand in the bathtub. ben hums softly as he grabs a small rag, running warm water underneath it and squeezing out the excess water.

you’re in too much.. shock to bring yourself to say anything, but when he brings the rag to wipe your inner thighs and core, you let out a noise of surprise, cheeks warming up. who the fuck knew soldier boy could be so.. gentle?

he doesn’t look up at you as he continues. instead, he asks, “what? too hot?”

you let out a laugh, shaking your head. “no, just right.”

he lets out a satisfied noise as he finishes cleaning you up thoroughly, throwing the rag to the side as he grabs another one for himself, repeating the process. you watch him in awe as he does so, and you try your hardest to make sure you don’t fall in love with him.

but, when he carries you to the hotel bed and lays you down like you’re glass that might break, it seems a bit too late for that. and when he gets in that bed with you and holds you like his life depends on it?

you know you’re done for, and you’re in for a ride.

#fake-bleach #my writing #jensen ackles x reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy #jensen ackles #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x female reader #the boys season 3 #the boys season 4 #soldier boy fanfiction

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punkshort · 3 months ago

Text

First Impressions

Thanks anon for this request!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader one-shot

Summary: When your heater breaks in the dead of winter, you get more than you bargained for when Joel Miller arrives to fix it.

Warnings: language, some fluff, the stress and fear that comes with living in the wilderness during a zombie apocalypse, competency kink (a little), smut (18+ MDNI), dirty talk

WC: 4.2K

Adjusting to life in Jackson was tough. You had been on your own for so long, you found it nearly impossible to ever fully relax. You were grateful Tommy and Maria took you in after one of their patrols stumbled across you freezing in the thick Wyoming wilderness, but to be yanked from the brink of death and dropped into some thriving community that seemingly even managed to still celebrate the holidays was too jarring.

So, you kept to yourself for a while. You pitched in around the stables. It was where you felt most comfortable: less people, more animals. You didn't go to the dining hall to eat and you didn't visit the bar for a drink. You had a clear cut path from your house to the stables and back, and you rarely ever strayed.

Unfortunately, while Jackson had a lot to offer and did incredibly well at reviving civilization, things still did break. Like your space heater.

You piled on extra blankets for a week, and then you moved to the living room to sleep on the tiny sofa in front of the fireplace, but eventually your back was screaming at you for it and the cold weather wouldn't let up for at least another two months, so you had no choice but to ask for help.

Tommy was shocked you hadn't said something sooner and apologized for making you feel like you couldn't ask for help, even though it wasn't at all his fault or anyone else's except your own, and promised to have his brother stop by that afternoon to take a look at it.

While you kept to yourself and hardly socialized at all, that didn't stop you from overhearing things at the stables. You knew of Tommy's brother. How people whispered rumors behind his back and fell silent whenever he stepped foot inside the building.

Did you know he slit a raider's throat and made the guy's girlfriend watch?

He beat the shit out of Seth the other night just for looking at him wrong.

Back in Boston, I heard he knocked some guy's teeth down his throat for taking the last of the beef jerky.

Someone told me he only sleeps two hours a night.

He fixed Greg's shower and told him not to fuck it up again or else he'll be taking baths in the kitchen sink.

Were you intimidated? Maybe a little. But you had been on your own for so long, fighting and scratching and clawing to stay alive. Some asshole wasn't going to shake you up.

Then you saw him.

Well, you'd seen him before, sure. But just glimpses in the barn or passing by him on the street. Never up close.

When you opened your front door later that afternoon, you were a little taken aback. He was so much more handsome than you had thought. He was built like a refrigerator; broad and strong. His cheeks and chin were dusted in a patchy, greying beard, growing right below a hooked nose and deep, velvety brown eyes. There were a few scars littering his bronzed skin but what drew your attention more was his hair. His fucking hair. Loose, mostly grey curls that fell past his ear and down the back of his neck. Not long enough to pull into a ponytail, like Tommy, but give it a few more months and he might. He had them pushed back from his face, making the silken locks look like a cascading river so enticing, you had to hold yourself back from touching them.

He said your name and readjusted the toolbox in his hand and you blinked yourself back to life before stepping aside to let him in. When he passed you, you were hit with the strong scent of wood shavings and coffee, an intoxicating combination that had your brain buffering once again.

"Tommy said you needed your heater looked at?"

You nodded and pointed up the stairs. "It's in my bedroom. Can I, uh, get you something to drink? Coffee?"

He perked up at that once he slid off his jacket and shoes. "You got coffee?"

You nodded and walked toward the kitchen, rummaging through your meager belongings until you found the precious tin can. "That's the one thing I always made sure I grabbed if I ever saw it out there. If we have to live like this, at least I'm still having my coffee."

Joel grinned and set the toolbox down on your counter, watching as you filled up a kettle with water. His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He couldn't believe how lucky he was that your stupid heater broke, giving him the perfect excuse to finally meet you so he could stop pining from afar. "You don't like it much here, then?"

You startled at that, giving him a look of surprise before lighting your stove.

"No, I didn't mean here, I just meant... you know... the world in general."

"I know, I'm just teasin' you," he said a little awkwardly with a soft chuckle. You turned around, leaning against your counter and crossing your arms over your chest. You had just spoken a few words but so far, nothing about this man screamed scary. In fact, he seemed rather... sweet.

"How long have you been here?" you asked while you waited for the water to boil.

"'Bout five years," he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "You're new, though."

You nodded, your fingers fidgeting underneath your bicep. "Yeah. I think it's been almost a month. I'm not really sure, never bothered keeping track of the days out there."

Joel studied you up for a moment, picking up on your eyes shifting over your surroundings, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor, and the way you kept your back protected when you spoke to him.

"I remember when we first got here," Joel said. Your fidgeting paused and you looked at him again. "It was tough. Acclimatin' to this kind of life. Hard to sleep. Hard to trust anyone. It took time but eventually, you start sleepin' soundly again and that guard comes down. You'll see."

A slow smile spread across your face and you looked down shyly at your feet. "Am I that obvious?"

Joel laughed and strolled over to the two mugs and can of instant coffee you had sitting out. "Wouldn't say it's obvious but I haven't seen you at the dining hall one time. In fact, pretty sure this is the first time I've heard your voice." Your cheeks warmed up behind his back and you bit your lower lip. So he's noticed you enough to realize you never went to the dining hall.

"It's a pretty one," he said over his shoulder, focusing on scooping the correct amount of coffee into each mug. "Your voice, I mean. Shame you been keepin' it hidden all this time."

"O-oh," you stuttered, completely flustered by his compliments. This was not at all the man everyone made him out to be. "Thank you."

Joel carefully poured the boiling water into each mug before giving them each a stir, then handed you one. "You're welcome, darlin'. Now why don't you show me to your bedroom?"

Your eyes must have bugged out of your head because at first, he frowned, then after he realized what he said, turned a shade of pink you didn't know he was capable of.

"I mean, for the heater."

"Yeah, oh Christ, I know," you said, waving him off and heading for the stairs, your mug clutched so tightly in one hand you thought it might break. You lead Joel to the first door on the left and stepped back so he had room to swing his toolbox through the narrow door with him.

"I don't know what happened," you said, trailing in after him while he began to set out some tools on the ground. When he knelt down, he groaned at the creak in his knees and you quickly grabbed a spare pillow. "Here, kneel on this," you offered. He looked up at the pillow, then at you, and shook his head.

"I ain't kneelin' on your pillow."

"It's a spare. I only use the one. And honestly, even that seems too much sometimes."

He sighed and hesitated for only a moment longer before taking the pillow from your hand. "Thank you," he said softly. You smiled and sat down on the edge of your bed after putting your coffee on the end table with his.

"Anyway. As I was saying, I don't know what happened. It was working fine and then one day it just wouldn't turn on. I tried other outlets and I didn't see any issues with the cord, so I just gave up."

Joel began to unscrew the back of the heater while he listened. "So you gave up and slept in the cold for two weeks?"

"Nothing I wasn't used to."

He couldn't argue with that.

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence while he worked until he began to hum some old country song under his breath, making you smile again. You couldn't remember the last time you smiled so much.

"What're you smilin' for?" he asked with a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"You aren't at all the way people say you are," you said boldly.

He quirked an eyebrow and turned his attention back to his work. "And what have you heard?"

You shrugged and leaned back on your hands. "Threatened a man after breaking his shower. Knocked out some guy named Seth. That you only sleep two hours a night," you chuckled at the last one when you heard how silly it sounded.

"Well," Joel said with a heavy sigh. "I didn't threaten anyone about their shower. Just reminded him he's gotta take care of the pipes or else the whole place'll rot."

You grinned to yourself as he continued to explain the rumors.

"I did punch Seth but he said somethin' real nasty 'bout my girl and, well, that just don't sit right with me."

Your grin slid right off your face. "Your girl?"

He stopped what he was doing and swiveled around to face you. "My - Ellie. Her name's Ellie. She's, uh, well... she ain't my daughter, but..."

Relief flooded your veins. "Oh. I thought you meant -"

"No, no," Joel said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "No, not like that." He twirled a wrench around in between his fingers as he nervously bit the inside of his cheek before adding, "Don't got anyone like that."

Your mouth formed a silent oh. Message received.

Joel cleared his throat again and turned back to the heater. "And the sleep thing, well, they got me there," he chuckled with a shake of his head. "Although some nights are better than others."

"I know what you mean," you said with a nod. After a moment of silence, Joel smiled to himself.

"Imagine y'do if you ain't got any heat at night."

You giggled and he smiled again, this time his chest swelling when he heard you laugh.

Joel continued to work on the heater while you studied him quietly. He took you by complete surprise. The last thing you expected was to make a friend out of the fearsome Joel Miller. It didn't hurt that he was so easy on the eyes, either. How old was he? Your gaze roamed over his greying hair and the crinkles next to his eyes. Older than you, definitely, but it was hard to tell by how much.

You couldn't even remember the last time you were interested in anyone. It must have been when you were in the Atlanta QZ, and that was years ago.

"Alright, let's give her a run," Joel suddenly said. When you refocused on him, you saw he had put the heater back together and was fixing it upright. He plugged it into the wall and hovered his finger over the power button before glancing back at you. "Ready?"

You nodded and swung your legs back and forth over the edge of your bed, then he winked at you, sending warmth all over your body. Jesus, if Joel kept giving you little looks like that, you wouldn't have much need for a heater anymore.

He pressed the button and sure enough, the coils inside the heater began to glow orange and heat started to fill the room.

"Oh!" you exclaimed, jumping off the bed in excitement. "Thank you!" you added, kneeling on the floor as well so you could warm your hands in front of the heater.

"Anytime," Joel murmured, and it wasn't until you heard the deep timber of his voice next to you that you realized he was so close. You tilted your face, smiling shyly at him next to you. Up close, you could see the fine lines in his face in much more detail, each one calling out to you to trace with your fingertip. When you met his gaze, you found he had been examining you, as well. Quickly, you looked away and stood up.

"Is there anythin' else?" Joel asked as he began to pack up his toolbox. You shook your head.

"No, I think that'll do it."

"You sure? Thought I saw that faucet drippin' in the kitchen."

You frowned. "No, I didn't notice that," you said slowly.

"What 'bout those windows?" he asked, standing up with a grunt and gesturing to the two bedroom windows on the other side of the room. "Need help hangin' curtains?"

You looked where he was pointing. "No, never really bothered me. Besides, it faces the backyard. No one can see in."

He laughed softly and rubbed his chin before shooting you a sheepish look. "I'm tryin' to find a reason to stay, sweetheart."

Your eyes widened and once again, you felt your cheeks heat up.

"Oh," you said, shyly dropping your gaze to the floor to hide your smile. "I would like that."

"Yeah?" he asked, and you nodded.

"Yeah. You're, um," you shifted your weight nervously, "you're sweet. And nice."

Joel huffed and set his toolbox back down. "I ain't nice all the time," he warned. "But you ain't gotta worry 'bout that."

"No?" you questioned, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as he began to close the distance between you.

He sighed and cupped your face with both hands. Your body instantly melted at his touch, your knees practically giving out when he dragged his thumb across your lip, saving it from your teeth. "Am I readin' this wrong?" he asked, his eyes darting all over your face. You quickly shook your head and stepped even closer.

"Thank Christ," he breathed before capturing your lips in a deep kiss. It had been several years and you were a little rusty, but you quickly found it was like riding a bike.

Joel's kiss lit a fire in you, one that had gone dormant for so long. Your fingers curled around the lapels of his flannel, the material warm and soft, just like him, and with the confidence boost that came from his hands dropping to grab excitedly at your hips, you walked him backwards until he bumped against the edge of your mattress.

He sat down on your bed with an oomph and you crawled into his lap, not once breaking the kiss.

"Wish I got to know you sooner," he whispered, tipping his head back when your lips traveled down his neck. Fuck, even his neck was sexy. "Always so skittish and shy," he continued, his palms gliding up and down your back.

You laughed softly against his skin and leaned back. "You still don't really know me."

He grinned and shrugged. "I'd like to, if you're willin'," he said, his vulnerability making your chest ache. You sunk your teeth into your lower lip again and nodded.

"Good," he said, his hands roaming further past your waist to cup your ass. "'Cause I like what I know so far."

"You're full of surprises," you told him, giggling when he gave your ass a firm squeeze. "You're so much more... you're more gentle and sweet than I expected."

Joel smirked and tugged you closer so you felt his erection trapped within his jeans. "I can be gentle," he told you, nipping at your jaw. "Or I can be rough. Whatever you like."

You swallowed when you caught the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. "Oh, yeah?"

"Mhmm," he said, and before you could blink he had spun you around so your back was pressed into the mattress while he hovered above you. You had to admit, he was adorable. He had to be pushing sixty but he was talking like a man half his age. After you heard the way his knees creaked when he was fixing your heater, you figured he was all talk, or maybe he just needed the ego boost to hype himself up.

But the speed in which he removed your clothes should have been the first sign that your impression of him was wrong. When he buried himself inside you, his surprisingly thick length stretching you open and nudging the furthest depths of you, you got the message.

When you gasped and tipped your head back, his big hand immediately rose to cup the side of your face and tilt it back down so he could watch your face as you unraveled beneath him. Each little noise and moan seemed to egg him on, like he fed off your sounds and the way your face twisted in pleasure when his coarse hair rubbed against your clit with each roll of his hips.

"Wanna see you," he explained, eyes scanning all over your face. "Wanna watch you take it. You'll keep your eyes on me, won't you? Hm? You'll be good for me, yeah?"

You nodded, your mind a muddled mess. The only thing you could seem to focus on was the slow and deliberate drag of his heavy cock in and out of you. Joel pressed your knees back against your chest as far as you could handle and pushed inside you further with a rough grunt. He managed to get so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach and the sensation left you breathless.

"So fuckin' pretty, y'know that?" he groaned, gazing down at you without breaking rhythm. His long locks loosened and hung past his eyes, tempting you to smooth them back. "Wanted to get to know you f'so long but I couldn't ever catch your eye," he admitted with a little smirk. You moaned when his hips began to swirl, switching the angle ever so slightly and setting your nerves alight.

"I-I... oh, god," you whined, already struggling to keep your eyes on him like he asked. "I didn't know."

He lunged forward and crashed his mouth against yours hungrily, his exhale fanning over your cheek. Then just as suddenly as he kissed you, he leaned back and pulled out.

"Turn over," he instructed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he dragged in air. You did as you were told and shakily held yourself up on your hands and knees.

"Fuck," he muttered behind you. Your face went hot and you tucked your chin into your shoulder as you waited for him to enter you again, but he chose to take an extra minute to glide his hand over the curves of your hips and ass. If you had been able to see him, you would have seen a look of awe and appreciation on his face.

"Always wondered what you had hidden under all those clothes," he said as he lined himself up at your entrance. You cried out his name when he finally slid back inside, the angle already too intense and he hadn't even begun to move. "Goddamn, wanna run my tongue over every fuckin' inch of you, baby," he growled, fingers gripping your sides as he tried to ground himself.

He gave you a few gentle thrusts to get used to it before he couldn't hold back any longer. He pounded into you, his eyes fixed on your ass and the way it bounced with every snap of his hips. One hand slowly reached down to trace your spine, marveling at the way your body welcomed him. Then you arched your back and you both moaned at the slight change and he could feel his stomach begin to tense in anticipation of his release.

"So fuckin' tight," he said through clenched teeth. You could hear him breathing heavily as his thrusts grew sloppy and you began to panic, sensing he was about to come before you were ready. But then as if he read your mind, one of his hands snaked around your front to draw fast circles over your clit.

"C'mon, give it t'me," he said with a grunt. "Wanna feel this perfect pussy squeeze me, want you to be feelin' me for fuckin' days, sweetheart."

"Oh, shit," you gasped, mouth hanging open in a mixture of ecstasy and surprise. You wondered how on earth everyone in town had so much to say about Joel's reputation but somehow managed to leave out how mind-blowing he happened to be in bed.

"Christ, honey. Ain't gonna last much longer," he groaned, his fingers working even faster between your legs. He pounded into you harder, punching the air from your lungs and pushing you closer and closer to your peak. Your breaths were coming in shallow pants and you could feel the swell building deep inside you, threatening to unleash at any second. You reached behind you frantically, searching for some part of him to hold onto when you found his hand pressed firmly onto your hip. Your fingers clasped over his as you felt the pressure build up quickly and you knew in that moment this one encounter was going to single-handedly ruin you.

The moment you fell apart while practically screaming his name, your cunt pulsing around him and your body shaking, he almost made a huge mistake. Finally getting to witness what you looked like when you came was more than enough, but hearing his name over and over while your body shook with pleasure? It was too much and he was only just a man who was holding on by his goddamn fingernails as it was. But fortunately, he managed to pull out just in time to paint your lower back with his cum. He knew he was making some ungodly sounds as relief flooded his veins, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He had been daydreaming about taking you apart like that for weeks and now that he finally had you, there was no turning back.

"Oh, fuck," he gasped, lifting his chin towards the ceiling while dragging in deep lungfuls of air. You collapsed flat onto your stomach with a grunt and he tilted his face back down to grin as how spent you looked.

Still got it.

"I'll be right back, darlin'," he told you. You mumbled something tiredly in response before he slipped out of your room to get a washcloth from your bathroom and returned quickly to clean you up.

"Thank you," you said, turning your face so you could watch him gently wipe up his mess. His eyes flickered to yours and he smirked.

"You thankin' me for fixin' the heater, for fuckin' you, or for cleanin' you up?"

You giggled, your voice a little hoarse when you replied, "All of the above."

You flipped over onto your back and his eyes immediately drifted down your naked body, his breath catching in the back of his throat at how perfect you were. Even better than he ever imagined.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, letting the rag fall to the floor so he could glide his hand up your thigh, over your hips and stomach to one of your breasts which, he realized far too late, had gone neglected. Next time.

"So are you," you whispered back, bringing a hand up to play with the long curls resting on the back of his neck. He shook his head shyly and looked away.

"I need a haircut."

"I like it just the way it is," you told him, twisting a lock of hair around one finger and watching as it loosely bounced back when you let it go. "Gives me something to grab onto," you joked. A wide smile stretched across his face and his eyes looked like he was staring at the tree on Christmas morning.

"So, uh," Joel began when the silence stretched on for too long. "I meant it earlier. 'Bout gettin' to know you better." He couldn't remember the last time he felt so nervous. He could feel his face heating up and he prayed you didn't notice. "I know you don't like goin' to the dining hall but I'd really like to have dinner with you. I can't make much but I can make stew, if y'wanna-"

"I would go to the dining hall with you," you said, cutting him off. His eyes snapped back up to yours and he shot you a nervous smile.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a little shrug before sitting up and draping your arms around his shoulders. "As long as you're there, I'll go."

He grinned and leaned forward to kiss you, still in complete disbelief his wildest fantasy actually came true.

"How 'bout tomorrow, then?" he asked a little breathlessly when he broke the kiss.

Your eyes lit up and you nodded. "It's a date."

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dollgxtz · 4 months ago

Note

Ok a fic where reader and sylus are at a business meeting, she “offers” herself as payment (maybe as a joke or just to rile sylus idk) and he makes sure to remind her who she belongs to? Please???

Kindred Spirits

Word Count: 5.1k

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, possessiveness, ownership, spanking, hitting, slight blood mention, pet names like kitten & sweetie, creampie, rough sex, crying, slight fluff at the end :3

AN: Anon ur a literal genius. This has Sylus written all over it. Im so happy to be back posting another story for you all! Also happy to announce my masterlist is now complete and can be found in my pinned! Ty all! Enjoy and remember, my asks are open for any character, Sylus is just my husband LOL. Remember to read my pinned before requesting please! This is a bit tamer than my other stories but trust I am cooking up some deviant content as soon as I publish this one :33

“Finally…”

You nearly collapse near your front door. A whole week of your life. Gone. To what you ask? Dealing with wanderers on a special aid mission. Sure sure, the job paid well but it had been weeks since your last off day. Every time it seemed like one was around the corner here they go with some emergency call and a spill about how some rich politician needed help or something.

You were starting to get tired of cleaning up other people’s mistakes.

You fumbled with your keys, fingers numb from the biting cold. The wind whipped around you, making you shiver as you tried to fit the right key into the lock. Your breath came out in visible puffs, and you could feel the frustration building with each failed attempt. Finally, with a relieved sigh, you heard the click of the lock turning.

The still warm air is such a welcoming contrast to the wind and biting cold outside. You quickly shut your door and melt to the floor, your feet aching with relief as the pressure you had been putting on them subsided. Peace at last. Time for a hot shower an-

Your peace was cut short with the distinct tone of your phone ringing. And not just any ring tone. The one you had set specifically for a certain white haired man that only ever brought trouble. Wondering if you should even pick up, you bring the phone to your face, knowing that you were going to answer regardless.

“Sylus…I’m really tired. Can we talk lat-"

“Long time no see kitten. You should stop by for a bit, hm?”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to scoff out loud. Arrogant prick, you think, irritated by his inability to let you finish a sentence without interrupting. How did he even know you were home now?

You sigh deeply, feeling the tension building, and rub your temples to alleviate the mounting frustration. No, you tell yourself firmly. You wouldn’t put up with this today. Maybe another day, but definitely not today.

"Actually, no. I just returned from a week-long aid mission. Not today," you say firmly, aiming to be clear and resolute in your decision to stay put. Sylus however, seems to sense the cracks in your resolve and only responds with a chuckle.

“I want to see you. I’ll have Luke and Kieran come get you since you’re so tired”.

“Hu-”

“See you soon. They’re en route. Ciao”

The phone clicks, signaling the end of the call. For whatever reason, your ever growing frustration simply dissipates, defeat taking its place. You should be used to this by now. Sylus always gets what he wants. And you always let him. It goes without saying that it’s the same way for you as well. At least, Sylus always gives you what you want if it doesn’t interfere with his need to lay his eyes on you at least once in awhile. He knew that you wouldn’t push this though. You both knew.

Deep down, you wanted to see him too.

You asked Luke and Kieran to wait outside for a bit while you took a brisk shower and freshened up. Those two had always been very patient and understanding. You felt bad “bossing” them around, and yet they always insisted that you could. Though Luke had admitted on one occasion that he never expected to be helping a girl find hair ties or carrying shopping bags while working for Onychinus.

The statement had made you laugh a bit. You finally finish dressing in some plain sweats and rush to the car. Luke and Kieran are waiting outside of a dark colored jeep. Not too flashy as to not draw attention, but it was still clearly very expensive.

“Actually miss, Boss wanted you to wear these” Luke says, holding out an expensive looking dress. Clearly designed by hand and tailored to your measurements. Kieran follows his lead, holding out a box containing a pair of earrings and a lavish looking necklace.

“Huh? What’s this for? A date?”

“Business. That’s all he said” Kieran chimed in. Although you couldn’t see their faces, you knew they had no reason to lie to you about this.

“Ah. Dragging me into more trouble. Got it”.

When the three of you finally arrived to the location, the sun had already set for the day. You darted your eyes back and forth, squinting above at the bright neon sign of the establishment.

“We’re not going to the N109 Zone? This is a nightclub…” you mutter, taken aback by the unfamiliar surroundings. When did this even get here? There were plenty of clubs in Linkon of course, but you never seemed to notice this one. Not that you knew much about the night life to begin with. People were lined up at the entrance, chatting, fixing makeup, or texting.

“Boss wants you here. He’s waiting inside. Enjoy your time miss” Luke said, amusement written all over his tone. He gets out of the passenger seat to open the door and lend you a hand. You rolled your eyes, not wanting to appear shaken up by the situation. Sylus was always full of surprises. This was no different, act confident.

At least, that’s what you tried to tell yourself. After getting almost immediate entrance into the club with just a simple nod from the guard, you enter. As you walk inside the club, Luke and Kieran not far behind you, you can tell this was no ordinary night club. Everyone here was dressed lavishly and sharp, clearly possessing power and ulterior motives. A few eyes lay on you as you walk in, and you feel your hands start to sweat.

Keep cool. This isn’t the first time you’ve been around high ranking individuals. This is probably some test he set up…right? Or some kind of joke to get a laugh?

Clenching your fists, your eyes dart and search for a tall figure with white hair, feeling more nervous by the second that you don’t see him. You’re about to turn around and ask one of the twins, but at last your gaze settles on him, sipping on a glass of Gin Fizz. He’s sitting in a velvety booth by himself, people watching. He’s wearing his black button up with red streaks across it, coat hanging on his shoulders per usual. As if he felt you staring, his eyes shift to meet yours. He sets down his glass, giving you you a small smirk. His eyes narrow, sending a very clear message.

Come here.

As if you were suddenly possessed, your feet seem to start moving on their own. You weren’t sure if you were relieved to see him or if it was just the relief of seeing a familiar face in an unfamiliar place. You take a few deep breaths as you approach, readying your witful replies to any of his attempts to make fun of you. Without making any sound or looking at him, you quietly slide in next to him.

“You look nice. Seems I was right about this look on you” Sylus says, taking another sip of his drink. His eyes wander up and down behind the glass, seemingly devouring you. You squirm under his gaze.

“Hm. Thanks. This gift is the least you can do after dragging me to do whatever you want on a whim once again” you scoff, eyeing the full glass that sits on the table. It’s another glass of Gin Fizz, probably for Sylus. There’s three other very empty glasses on the table.

This man can definitely hold his alcohol.

He chuckles, taking a finger and pushing the glass of Gin closer to you.

“Don’t be like that sweetie. Loosen up a bit, you’ll need it”

“For what exactly? Business?” you mock, picking up the Gin. You didn’t exactly like the taste of this particular alcohol of choice but Sylus was right about one thing. Some liquid courage was definitely needed for whatever shenanigans he was dragging you into tonight.

“Yeah. Figured I could use Linkon’s darling Miss Hunter as backup” Sylus chuckles, watching you nearly choke as you take three big gulps of the drink. You squeeze your eyes in disgust as you finish the rest of the glass, shooting a death glare in his direction as you set it down.

“You’re perfectly capable. Don’t mock me Sylus”. You grit your teeth in irritation, almost ready to rip him to shreds with your words. Clearly your tone has no effect on him though, as all you get in return is a soft smile. Sylus places a hand on your upper leg, slowing sliding his fingers under your dress. You gasp, the coldness of his fingers making you twitch a bit. The warmness of your skin mixed with his cold touch makes the sensation feel like icy fire.

“Or what? You’ll use this on me?” he smirks, tugging on the concealed gun strapped under your dress. “I’m all for it honestly”

You slap his hand away, the woozy feeling from the Gin Fizz starting to kick in. What was in this drink? It was strong. Too strong.

“Pervert. Always touching me, making fun of me. Maybe I will shoot you. Again.” you growl, turning your head away from him. You attempt to scoot away as well, but are met with a strong grip around your waist as you’re pulled into closer proximity with him. Sylus grabs your chin and lifts it towards his face. He leans down a bit, the smell of alcohol and his bourbon vanilla cologne making you feel even more dizzy.

“You can put your claws away now kitten. Don’t make me have to melt your little tantrum away” he coos, gently caressing your face with his thumb.

You stare at him, dumbfounded, desperately searching your sluggish brain for a comeback but finding yourself too flustered to form any words. The look in Sylus’s eyes shifts from a smug expression to a much softer, almost tender gaze, and you wonder what his next move will be. Your face starts to burn as you feel heat rising in your core, your heart pounding in your chest. Panic sets in as you consider the possibilities, your mind racing with the fear of what might come next.

Don’t tell me he’s going to…?!

"You're so...confusing" you mutter.

You’re just about to try and squirm from his grip, when Luke and Kieran tap on the table, catching yalls attention.

“Boss man, Val says he’s ready for ya” Luke says, nonchalantly ignoring the scene that’s displayed in front of him. Sylus releases your face, his face going serious again. He gets up, reaching out a hand to help you out of the booth.

“Time for business, sweetie”

You’re guided by the twins and Sylus past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor to a somewhat hidden room located downstairs. The area the stairs led to was blocked off by a singular rope, clearly only meant for a select crowd.

In the room there’s a long black table, cards and chips all over it. There’s a few prominent figures already seated, along with a few bodyguards standing near the door. Sylus pulls a seat out for you, before taking his own. You study the figure that’s sitting at the head of the table as you sit. He’s short, a bit chubby, dark hair, smoking a cigar. A scar sits angrily on his forehead and you wonder what kinda grudges led to such an injury. He notices you looking at him, and gives you a devilish grin. Some of his teeth are crooked or missing.

All that money and he can't fix his smile?

You shudder. Sylus looks over at you, and back to the man at the head of the table. He’s reading you, clearly sensing your nervousness. He says nothing, simply reaching a hand over to rest on your thigh.

“Was starting to think you were going to keep me waiting Sylus. Seems you didn’t run after all” he laughs, wheezing a bit as he takes another puff of his cigar. You wrinkle your nose a bit as the potent smell hits your senses.

“I couldn’t turn down a game of cards with my dear old friend” Sylus says, irritation coating the last word. “Let’s keep things civil this time, hm Valentino?”

Valentino bursts into laughter, clearly amused. Despite his laughter, you couldn’t ignore the murderous tension in the air. Something tells you this isn’t any regular game of cards. You gulp, trying to force yourself to look at everyone at the table and smile.

“Well hello little lady. Sylus, you didn’t tell me you kept such gorgeous company…” Val says, his eyes snaking all over your body. You feel Sylus squeeze your thigh, clearly irritated. He pulls out a coin from his coat pocket, seemingly trying to channel his frustrations into something else.

“You know I’m not really the type to share, Val. She’s all mine. Down to every single strand of hair”. Sylus ends, catching the coin and shooting a glare in the man’s direction. It was plain, but conveyed a message very well.

You feel your palms start to sweat. Was he being serious right now?? You side eye him, trying to piece out whether or not this was some kind of facade you’re supposed to play into. Valentino clearly takes Sylus’s words as a challenge.

“I’ll give you twenty million for her. Maybe fifty million if you make her give us a little strip show. What do ya say? She looks so soft. Probably makes cute noises too…~” he chuckles, likely enjoying the look of surprise that washes across your face.

Sylus remains quiet, his face unmoving, frozen in a pissed glare. You don’t know if it was the alcohol you drank earlier, or if it was some inkling of an attempt to dissipate the tension, but you clear your throat and begin to speak.

“Well Sylus? You can share can’t you? It’s quite the generous offer Mr. Valentino. I’m quite flattered actually.” you express, putting on your best smug look. Sylus stiffens, a somewhat shocked expression washing over him. Valentino erupts into yet another fit of laughter, seemingly unable to contain himself. Turning to look back at Sylus, you see it in his face briefly. An uncaged look of rage before it quickly dissipates.

Shit. Shouldn’t have said that.

Far too late to stop now though.

“You heard the lady Sylus. Why don’t you try sharing just this once? What I would give to taste that sweet little body of he-”

Sylus slams a revolver on the table, then calmly starts picking up cards from the deck.

"I'd suggest you stop talking and start playing the game, Mr. Valentino," Sylus snarls, his words dripping with venom. The fury in his voice is palpable, and it's clear he's reached the end of his patience.

You give Val a sly look, feigning pity. “Ah, sorry Valentino. Seems this one can’t quite let me go yet”. You don’t know what you were trying to achieve, but it’s certainly not working to dissipate any tension. Val doesn’t respond to you though, all his focus on Sylus now.

“My dear friend. You should know me by now. There’s something I’m much more interested in now than some money. Now I want the girl, or nothing”.

Valentino wears a shit eating grin on his face, soaking in the fact that he thinks he’s gained some control of the situation, unaffected by the gun on the table. Sylus simply sighs, rubbing his fingers against the temple of his forehead.

“I see where this is going then”.

You barely process what’s happening before everything and everyone starts moving. As soon as Sylus begins to stand, Valentinos guards start shooting. Sylus wastes no time flipping the large table, sending the cards and game chips flying everywhere. You yelp as he yanks you towards him using his body and the table to shield the oncoming attack of bullets. You hear Luke and Kieran joining in the frenzy, yelling obscenities as they begin shooting their own hidden weapons.

You swiftly reach for the weapon concealed beneath your dress, your fingers brushing against the cool metal as you draw it out. Turning to face Sylus, you ready yourself for his instructions, your body tense with anticipation. Instead of giving you orders, he locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing through you with an intensity that feels like it's reaching into your very soul. The silence is heavy, charged with unspoken tension as bullets whip past the both of you, and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in response.

“I need you alive for what’s coming sweetie. Pay attention, stay close”

You blink. Twice. Unable to process his words before he yanks you both up, one hand using his evol to send the table crashing into several bodyguards. The four of you fight your way through the onslaught of people coming into the door, before eventually dashing up the stairs. People are running in all directions, seemingly caught up in the chaos of everything. You all manage to make it out the door and into the brisk cold air, the twins quickly hopping into the car to whisk you away.

“Go on, I’ll catch up soon” Sylus states, hurriedly pushing you into the car and slamming the door before you could protest. He signals Kieran to drive off, and that he does.

“He’s…going to level the building. Isn’t he?” you sigh, sighing at the fact that Sylus seemed to conveniently forget that this was in fact not the lawless land of the N109 Zone. No doubt the Hunter’s Association would have to investigate for potential wanderer activity, and that would be a lot of paperwork.

"It's fine. He owned that place anyway. He'll just build another," Luke says, his voice calm and unbothered. Just as the words leave his mouth, a deafening boom erupts behind the car, shaking the ground beneath yall. The explosion's shockwave rattles the windows, and the sky lights up with a fiery glow, cutting off Luke's next sentence mid-breath.

You groan.

The twins did drive you to the N109 this time, swiftly helping you out the car and into Sylus’s private villa. When you entered the front door, a nightgown and lacy underwear were laid neatly out for you in his room, your arrival clearly anticipated.

It wasn’t more than an hour before Sylus waltzed in the front door, eyeing your slouching figure on the couch. You sit up as soon as you see him, still somewhat annoyed.

“What took you so damn long? Also do you have to level every building you come across?” you spat, glaring at him. He says nothing though, walking straight past you and into his room.

“Huh? Sylus?? What the hell…”

Not liking the feeling of being ignored, you hurriedly chased after him. You had never really been uncomfortable barging into his room. You had done it plenty of times at this point, the first time being when he had challenged you to steal the brooch from him. No point in being shy now. He’s fumbling with something in his drawer when you reach up to tap his shoulder.

“Sylus! Don’t ignore me, I know you ca-”

He swiftly turns around, grabbing your wrist before you can touch him. His gaze is unreadable, cold even. You start to sweat, trying to take your arm back. But he only squeezes tighter.

"I was hoping you'd leave me be so I could calm down. But of course you're as petulant as ever" he says.

"Let go! What's wrong with you!?" You attempt to remove his hand from your wrist but he doesn't budge.

“Go to the bed. Place your hands on it” he says, face unchanging.

“Huh??”

“I don’t like to repeat myself”.

You freeze for only a moment before quickly moving to the bed. You meticulously put your hands where instructed, something deep in your core telling you that it’s likely best to listen for now. However, you can’t help to look over your should to quip at Sylus. You’re slightly bent at an angle, trying your best to keep your balance.

“What’s this about? I’m not that upset that you reduced the building to rubble”

Sylus snakes his way behind you, quietly, as if thinking of what to say. He reaches out a hand, grabbing the ends of your nightgown and moving the soft fabric around in his fingers. You feel the heat rise to your face, the skin of your ass feeling a slight gush of cold air.

“You like playing games with me, don’t you? Testing me” he says coldly, fingers trailing up the back of your legs slowly. You shiver, attempting to squirm away. His evol appears around you, its tight grip making you cry out.

Oh. This was about that.

“Huh?? No, I was just playing along. Just friendly banter yknow?” you say, voice wavering. You’ve clearly pissed him off. A part of you knows it’s a slight lie. You didn’t want to admit it out loud but it was kind of amusing to see Sylus get so riled up over something. Over you especially. But you hadn’t exactly done it fully on purpose. It was the alcohol.

But you knew he wasn’t buying it, as observant as he was.

“Sure. You were just pretending to act like a stray kitten trying to find a new owner?” he smirks, his fingers beginning to trace circles over the cloth of your panties. You let out a small whine, his touch just barely grazing your already wet cunt.

“Owner? I don’t belong to you. Or anyone” you scoff, the resolve in your voice wavering with every little circle he completes on your skin. You almost whine in disappointment when he pulls away.

“And yet…” Sylus trails off, leaving you with aching curiosity before you’re met with stinging pain on your ass. You cry out, unable to move with his evol still snaked around you. “You did exactly what I told you to do just now, wear the clothes I leave out for you, and practically melt everytime I even barely touch you”.

“Sylus?! What the hell was that…?!” you exclaim, trying your hardest to process his words and the situation at hand. He doesn’t respond, proceeding to gently caress the spot where he smacked you. The stinging pain gently eases away, and you feel yourself relaxing with his touch once again. He once again trails his fingers down to your clothed pussy, rubbing slow and meticulous circles around it. You start to whine, attempting to push yourself into his fingers for more friction. He pulls his hand away, making a disapproving sigh.

“Acting like you’re in heat per usual” he chuckles, watching as you wiggle around under the grip of his evol. “This is a punishment”.

“For what? Cause I let some sick and ugly looking crime boss think he had a chance with me?”

Sylus wastes no time bringing his hand to your ass again, earning another painful whine out of you. You feel tears forming in your eyes that you can’t wipe away. He’s certainly not holding back his strength, and yet you know this isn’t even a third of the force he could use on you.

“For entertaining him” he says plainly.

Another smack.

“Another for stupidly handing over your life, body and soul for a measly twenty million”

An even harder hit, this one fueled by rage.

“And lastly…”

You nearly choke as he delivers the final blow, your ass definitely bruising by now. Sylus offers no comfort this time, instead leaning down next to your crying face, breath hot against your ear.

“For forgetting that you belong to me, just as much as I belong to you. Kindred spirits remember?”

You have no chance to respond before he’s flipping you on your back, your nightgown flying up to reveal your wet panties.

“I-im sorry, Sy” you choke, tears blurring your vision.

“Show me then, sweetie. Spread your legs. Wide” he instructs, reaching up to brush your tears away. This isn’t done lovingly, more like calculated and cold.

This is far from over.

You silently but shakingly open your legs, your ass still painfully aching from his assault. You’re surprised when he doesn’t rip your underwear in two, choosing to rather peel them off your legs slowly. You notice the hunger in his eyes as he does so, as if savoring the view of your cunt at his fingertips. A small drop of arousal pools down your ass, and Sylus scoops it up with one finger.

You watch as he puts his finger in his mouth, savoring the drop of you with swiftness. His piercing gaze never leaves yours though, and you want to suddenly run away and hide. This is beyond thrilling, but you try your best to remain as still as possible, scared that he’ll think you’re enjoying it too much and punish you accordingly.

You suddenly can’t take the tension anymore, and close your eyes. You hear the sound of Sylus removing his belt from its loops, then the loud clang as it hits the floor. You feel the bed shift as he lowers himself over you, his face stopping just inches over yours, indicated by the sudden feel and warmth of his breath. He grabs your face in his hand and squeezes your jaw. Hard.

“Look at me kitten” he commands, his tone filled with unkempt rage and anger. Your eyes fly open, terrified.

“I’m the only one that will ever taste you. Repeat it” he says. Before you can get a word out, he’s pushing the fat tip of his cock in your entrance. You cry out in agony, nowhere near ready to have been penetrated. But he doesn’t stop filling you.

“Repeat it. Or I’ll hit you again. Do you want that?”

“You’re t-the…ah!” you whine, his cock halfway inside you at this point. Your poor cunt feels like it’s being impaled, splitting pain soaring through your core.

“Try again”

You let out a whimper, trying your best to push through the pain and put thoughts into words.

“You’re the oh-only one that gets to taste me” you choke out, voice wavering and your eyes teary. Sylus gives a hard thrust, pushing the rest of his length inside you. You cry out again, feeling like you’re on the verge of passing out. Sylus seems unmoved by your outbursts though.

“And?”

You stare at him, barely able to see his face through the tears. What? What does he mean and? He didn’t say anything else did he?

“Hu-what?”

You hear him sigh with disapproval, giving you yet another hard thrust. And another. And another. You’re clinging onto his back now, nails digging into his skin as the sound of the bed creaking and your pants fill the room. Blood has probably been drawn on his back, not that he’d even notice. You can hear him grunting in your ear, clearly enjoying the feeling of you tightening around him when you tense from the pain. Although it still hurts, you can feel yourself accumulating to the shape and size of his length, and the pain lessons a bit more with each thrust. He stops once again, tilting your face in his grip.

“What did I say you forgot? Or is this kitten filled with too much cock to think straight now?” he mocks. You can hear the smile on his face despite not being able to see him clearly. Heat creeps up on your cheeks as you wrack your brain for answers.

“I-you…we’re kindred spirits?”

“Before that sweetie”

You blink the tears on your face away, your vision becoming a bit more clear. Although he’s still gazing down at you, his expression is not as angry as before. Seems he’s gotten a bit of his pent up anger out now.

“I belong to you, Sylus” you say, voice small and whiny from crying. That’s definitely what he wanted to hear, as he began to pepper kisses on your neck, on your cheek, and eventually resting on your lips. You greedily return his affection, leaning into this feverish kiss, the both of you only periodically stopping to pant for air between kisses. He stops, resting his forehead with yours, gazing into your eyes once more.

“And I belong to you. What’s mine is yours. All of it”

You don’t get a chance to respond before he’s thrusting again, this time with a continuous and steady pace. You cling onto him, the exchange of flowery words and rigorous thrusting already bringing you on the verge of ecstasy. Sylus already noticed long before you did though, as he brought his hand between the two of you, circling your clit further your stimulation.

“Go ahead, come undone for me” he whispers, voice strained for nearly being at his end too. Your body obeys, unraveling and writhing with pleasure as Sylus continues to pound into you. You ride your orgasm to its end, till the touching of your clit becomes too much and you whine from overstimulation.

“Sylus…!” you moan, and he stops, already at the start of his own climax. You shudder as you feel him spill into you, his seed immediately beginning to pool down your cunt and to your ass. He pulls his heavy cock out of you, a feeling of emptiness taking its place. For a moment nothing is said, just the sound of the both of you catching your breath.

You decide to break the silence.

“Sylus…I’m really sorry” you start, looking up at him. He simply chuckles, placing a kiss on your cheek before getting up to grab a rag from the bathroom.

“You’ve taken your punishment quite well, why are you apologizing again sweetie?” he says from the bathroom, coming back to wipe you clean. You scoff, slightly tensing from the coldness of the cloth.

“Hmph. Fine, I take it back then. I’m holding a grudge anyways for how hard you hit me”

He simply sighs as he finishes wiping you up. “Back with the infamous wit already? Can’t a man catch a break?”

You sit up, feeling emboldened once more.

“Nope. Maybe don’t hit me with the strength of a thousand suns next time and we’ll see”

Sylus tosses the rag in a laundry basket, making his way back to your side. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you in his warmth. You can’t help but smile against his chest.

“Well, good thing I have all night to make it up to you”

You lightly pinch his side, giggling into his embrace. A question crosses your mind.

"Did you mean it Sylus? We belong to each other?"

Sylus took your face in his hand, giving you a slight smile.

"I don't say stuff I don't mean. You know this"

That's the furthest he was willing to explain it. At least for now. Who knows what kind of power trip would ensue if you truly knew how much you had the big bad leader of Onychinus wrapped around your finger.

#umi writes ♡︎#sylus x reader #love and deepspace #sylus #sylus x reader smut #love and deepspace smut #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds smut #lads #lads smut #lads fic #lads scenarios #l&ds sylus #l&ds #love and deep space x reader #l&ds x reader #sylus x reader fic #love and deep space smut #lads sylus

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zreamy · 1 year ago

Text

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

permanent taglist: @asahicore

#sunghoon smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen oneshots #sunghoon oneshots #sunghoon imagines #enhypen hard hours #fic.sunghoon

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msmk11 · 5 months ago

Text

Best Friend’s Mom

MILF!Wanda Maximoff x college age!fem!reader (Billy and Tommy’s best friend)

Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Word count: 5k

CW: Age gap (legal), best friends’ mom, MILF!Wanda, fluff, consumption of alcohol, mention of absent parent, light smut

Summary: You get invited to spend spring break with your best friends Tommy and Billy Maximoff and their mother, Wanda. But Wanda is not just any mom you soon discover. She’s a MILF. And god do you want her badly. Only in your wildest dreams could she ever be attracted to you too- or so you think.

A/n: It’s finally here per your votes on my poll! This is only part one of (probably) two however. A) I’ve never written for Wanda before so I’m having a harder time saying what I need to succinctly. B) I have the fattest crush on Wanda so perhaps this is just my rambles. I hope you enjoy!!

When your twin best friends Billy and Tommy had invited you on their beach family vacation over spring break, you had obviously said yes. The thoughts of sand between your toes, the warm sun on your skin, and the calming crash of the waves sent a shiver of excitement down your spine every time you thought of it. Of course, you were also just excited to spend time with your best friends, but the beach was at the forefront of your mind. Though your daydreams had already crafted a vision of perfection for this trip, the reality, surprisingly, far exceeded it. This was all thanks to one sinfully sexy Ms. Maximoff.

From the early budding of your friendship, you knew that Billy and Tommy adored their mother- especially since their father had left them all behind at a young age. Their descriptions made her seem sweet, loving, and remarkably kind. While your first introduction certainly reassured these claims, it was her beauty that struck you. Perhaps in your head you had imagined someone a little more….motherly looking… rather than the mortal goddess before you. With the way her auburn hair fell down past her shoulders in waves, her blue skinny jeans hugged the curve of her waist just right, and her soft, pink lips were always adorned with a smile, you were certain she was the most beautiful woman you’d ever seen.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

When you, Billy, and Tommy pull up to the beach house in their small gray sedan and a redheaded woman, who you assume to be their mother, comes out, you are dumbfounded to say the least. Before her boys can even get their luggage from the trunk, she sweeps each into a bearhug and exclaims, “hello moya lyubov!”

Their unconvincing protests fall on deaf ears as she continues to smother them in love. You’re sure to tease them about it later.

When Ms. Maximoff breaks away from Billy and Tommy, she turns her attention to you and smiles sweetly. As she makes her way towards you, your heart begins to beat quickly as you realize how beautiful she is.

“Hello, dear,” she greets, “Billy and Tommy have told me all about you.”

Before you can respond, she too pulls you in for a hug. The burn of her touch, even through your shirt, is almost too much to bear, and her flowery perfume that fills your nostrils makes your head feel all woozy.

As she pulls away you can feel your cheeks burning and you try to act calm despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Maximoff, and thank you for letting me stay with you all this week.”

“Oh honey, no. Please don’t call me Ms. Maximoff, it makes me feel old. Wanda is just fine. And the pleasure is all mine, really. I’ve been eager to meet you ever since you became friends with my boys at the start of college.”

“Well, I’ve uh- been eager to meet you too. Billy and Tommy speak very highly of you.”

Wanda nearly coos as she turns to her sons brightly, “Awe moya lyubov, you two are too sweet.”

Your best friends flush red with embarrassment and the glares they shoot you as their mother hugs them again let you know they’ll berate you later for making them “look uncool.” Finally, Wanda pulls away and she urges you all to grab your stuff and follow her into the house.

Once inside, Billy and Tommy kick off their shoes haphazardly and start down the hall to the bedroom they’re sharing (so you can have a room to yourself). You, conversely, slip your shoes off gently and leave them by the door neatly. Wanda waits by your side and then motions for you to follow her once you’re done.

On your way to your room, Wanda gives you a mini tour. You pass through the small kitchen with light wooden floors, white cabinets, and seafoam blue walls. The living room is similarly beachy and charming, with big glass doors opening onto a wooden porch in the back and a smattering of brightly colored furniture organized around the room. At the end of the hall from the living room sits three doors, each leading into a separate room.

“Here we go, honey. Your room is this door on the left, the bathroom is the door in front of us, and my bedroom is here on the right. I hope you don’t mind being my neighbor and sharing a bathroom with me, but I figured it’d be better for the boys to have the master this week since they’re sharing a space,” Wanda tells you.

“No of course not Ms. M- Wanda. I feel bad that Billy and Tommy have to share, though. I honestly don’t mind sleeping on the couch!”

Wanda reacts as though you’ve just slapped her, “Oh honey, no! I’d never make a guest sleep on the couch! I want to make this place as comfortable for you as possible. Plus, the boys will be just fine. They spent the first half of their lives sharing a room, they’ll manage.”

You chuckle a little and smile kindly at her, “Well, thank you, seriously, I appreciate it.”

She waves her hand as if it’s nothing and then motions for you to go see your room, “I’m going to go finish up dinner honey, but let me know if you need anything.”

Wanda saunters off down the hall and you curse her for even walking sexily. Shaking yourself out of a daze, you go inside your room and promptly shut the door behind you. You drop your bag on the floor and then throw yourself on top of the fluffy, blue comforter, groaning into the mattress. You really hope you can survive this trip.

*****

It seems you must’ve fallen asleep on the comfy bed that feels more like a cloud, because suddenly you are jostled awake by a body landing on top of you. You let out an oomph as the air is expelled from your lungs and the weight of Tommy’s body settles on top of you.

“Tommy, you big lug,” you groan, “get off of me.”

You push the boy off of you and he rolls onto his back, “Had to wake you up somehow, you freak. I kept prodding you and nothing happened besides your continued snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” You protest, propping yourself up on your elbow and looking at him.

“Do too” he teases, “mouth open and all.” He then opens his mouth dramatically and lets out an obnoxiously loud snore.

You smack his stomach a little and he groans. In retaliation, he sweeps your elbow out from under you, forcing you to fall flat on your back again.

“Prick,” you grumble.

“Hey you should be a lot nicer to me, you know. I could’ve left you here to sleep and starve.”

You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes, “I doubt your mom would allow that.”

The brunette snorts, “Touché.” He stands up and nods his head towards the door, “let’s go eat.”

You and Tommy make your way down the hall to the kitchen, playfully teasing and shoving each other a little on the way. When the longer-haired brother gives you an especially playful push into the kitchen, you nearly fall right in front of Wanda. You’re a little more than embarrassed, so you try to hide your face from her by turning back towards Tommy and glaring. He’s smirking until he’s not- when Wanda gently chides him for “being rude to the guest.”

“Mom she’s our friend, she can take it,” Tommy reminds her.

“Plus,” you add, “I can take either of them, easily, any day. I was just caught off guard there.”

“Really now?” Billy challenges.

You hum in confirmation.

“Fine, then I suggest a game of chicken after dinner.”

“Who’d be our fourth player?” you ask, confused.

“I will,” Wanda answers with a slight smirk, “I love a good challenge. And I’d love to see you beat my boys.”

“Oh you’re so on, Mom,” Tommy answers with a grin.

The twins look at each other with evil, cocky smirks on their face, and you can tell that they’re confident they’re going to win. You look at Wanda nervously because a) you don’t want to lose to the twins and b) you don’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of her. Her confident smirk, however, so similar to her sons, eases your fears just a little.

They come storming back after dinner, however, when you first see Wanda in a bikini. Though you wouldn’t say it’s skimpy by any means, for goodness sake she’s around her sons, it still certainly shows a lot of skin. The butterflies are beating around aggressively in your stomach as you admire the red swimsuit she’s wearing- the color compliments her skin tone so very well, the top shows just enough cleavage to leave something to the imagination, and the bottoms hang low on her hips, flaunting her soft, white stomach.

You become even more nervous when you realize that you are going to have to sit on top of Wanda’s shoulders. While Billy and Tommy jump into the pool, you cautiously discard your towel on a chair and turn to Wanda, “I didn’t even think about the fact that I’d have to be on your shoulders. We can just call off the game, I’ll probably be too heavy for you.”

The redhead shakes her head and chuckles, stepping a little closer to you, “Honey, I know how chicken works. I wouldn’t have offered to play if I didn’t think I could carry you. I’m a lot stronger than I look, you know.”

You want to believe her, but you are just so nervous about hurting her that you can only weakly smile and nod.

“Hey, are we playing chicken, or are you two too chicken?” Billy calls out mockingly.

“Oh we’re more than ready, boys,” Wanda answers confidently, hands on her hips.

She walks forward and slides down into the pool, the turquoise water riding up to her waist. She beckons you over to the edge, “I’ll stand here and you can hop on, since I know you’re a little nervous about getting on my shoulders.”

You take a deep breath and nod. Wanda turns around and you step forward. Tentatively, you hook one leg over her right shoulder and her hand immediately comes up to grab your thigh. You tense at the skin to skin contact and it sends a little shiver up your spine. Thankfully, Wanda can’t see your face, so she hopefully just assumes that you're nervous about getting on her shoulders and not for….. other….. reasons.

“You’ve got it, honey,” She encourages you sweetly.

You quickly lift your other leg up and hook it around her left shoulder. She grabs your other thigh tightly and squeezes it, as if reassuring you.

Problem one million- Wanda being this strong is really hot, adding to your already insanely high level of attraction towards her. You fear you might pass out on the spot.

“Good to go?” The redhead asks you softly, craning her neck a little to look up at you. Her green eyes are soft but determined and they send a surge of confidence through you, “Yes, I’m ready to take them down.”

Wanda easily wades through the water over to Billy and Tommy, who have situated themselves with Tommy as the anchor and Billy on top. You look your opponent in the eye and smirk, sending him a playful glare, “You’re on, Maximoff.”

Billy only scoffs at you cockily and then waves you forward, challenging you to go up against him. Wanda and Tommy move in towards one another and you stick your arms out, bracing for Billy’s attack. He comes in swinging, bringing his right arm down to your side trying to shove you off. You are braced for it, though, and Wanda’s strong grip keeps you in place. You retaliate by grabbing his wrists, simultaneously trying to keep him from hitting you and also jostle him around. After a few seconds of back and forth, Billy rips his left arm free, the force causing you to wobble a little.

“I got you, honey,” Wanda calls up to you when she hears the sharp breath you take.

You shake it off and head towards Billy with double the amount of determination. Letting go of his other wrist, you go for the shoulders and give him a hard shove. This alone does not push Billy off of Tommy’s shoulders. However, the former twin’s movement throws the latter twin off balance, sending them plummeting backwards into the water. They land with a loud splash and you and Wanda cheer loudly. When the boys come up for air they are spluttering and groan at your victory.

“You two are stronger than you look,” Tommy concedes.

“Never underestimate your mother,” Wanda chides teasingly. She then looks up at you, “do you want me to take you back over to the edge to hop off?”

Your newfound victory, especially with Wanda on your team, has caused your confidence to soar. You shake your head, “No that’s okay, you can just drop me in the water.”

The redhead smiles sweetly, “If you insist.”

Before you have a second to think, she is lurching backwards, sending you both crashing into the water just as the twins had. The water is much colder than you anticipated and it overcomes your senses as you flail around. When you breach the surface you let out a gasp of air and shake the water from your eyes, “Holy fuck that’s cold!” you shout, then immediately cringe for cursing in front of Wanda.

Luckily she only chuckles, an evil glint in her eye, “You asked to be thrown in, honey. I was only doing what you asked.”

“A little warning would have been nice,” you answer with a playful pout.

She only laughs again, her head thrown back a little, and it’s quite the sight to see.

*****

The next morning, you wake to soft, yellow sunbeams falling across your face. The sound of gentle waves can be heard just slightly through your window at the back of the house and you sigh contentedly. You could get used to this. After laying sprawled across your bed for an undetermined amount of time, you finally decide it’s time to get up. You wander down the hall into the kitchen, on the hunt for food, and find Wanda sitting at the kitchen table, book in one hand, coffee in another, clad in a silk, white slip nightgown.

“Good morning, honey. Did you sleep well?” She asks sweetly.

“Like a baby.”

“I’m glad to hear it. What can I make you for breakfast?” Wanda asks, already rising from her chair.

“Oh, Wanda, no. Please. You don’t need to make anything. I can just snack on something for the pantry. I don’t usually have much for breakfast anyways.”

Wanda tsks at you and waves you off, “Well that just won’t do honey. It’s more important than ever for you to fuel your body at this age- what with all the studying, busy work schedules and… other things.”

Wanda winks at you then and you choke on your spit a little. Had she just implied…? No, she couldn’t have. But…

“Yes, well, school and work keep me busy enough to not have time for other things, Wanda. And I make up for a light breakfast with more filling meals later.”

It seems as though Wanda ignores the latter fact as she asks how you like your eggs and pulls out a frying pan.

“Well, honey, I really can’t believe what you’re saying. Someone as beautiful and sweet as you must be overwhelmed with social obligations- parties, friends, dating.”

You try to hide the blush on your cheeks from Wanda’s flattery, “No really, Wanda, I don’t have all that many. And I’m happy with my small group of friends.”

“You know,” Wanda starts, turning towards you as the eggs cook, resting her back against the counter, “I have to ask, and I hope you’ll excuse me for wondering, but I wanted to know if you were seeing or were interested in one of my boys. You just seem awfully close and I can’t help but wonder…”

You burst out in laughter at the heinous suggestion and Wanda’s eyebrows raise in bewilderment, “Oh god, no. Never in a million years would I date them.”

Wanda purses her lips and you realize how that sounded, “Please don’t take that the wrong way, Wanda. You’ve raised such lovely boys, you know. And I love them dearly, but not like that. They’re like my brothers. And even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t go for them. Or any guy for that matter… I like women.”

All the confusion and maybe even a little defensiveness drains from Wanda’s face at your confession and she visibly relaxes. She turns back to the eggs and picks up the pan, “I see. Well, the boys are grateful to have you in any way they can.” She walks over and sets the plate down in front of you, “And that makes me pretty grateful too.”

As she stays behind you, Wanda tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you shiver.

“Thank you, Wanda.”

“My pleasure, Detka.”

*****

The tension is so thick it is unbearable as you sit on a chair across from Wanda. At this point, you know it isn’t hot enough outside for you to be feeling this flushed. Rather, the way Wanda keeps looking over at you not so sneakily as she nurses her wine is leaving you all hot and bothered. When she takes another sip you are entranced by the way her soft, red lips wrap around the rim of the glass. And when she pulls the cup away, a drop of the wine is still on her lips. You nearly gasp as her tongue darts out, seemingly in slow motion, to lick it up. At this point, you know your staring is obvious, but Wanda just looks so pretty in that sundress, and one too many glasses of wine has left you feeling a little reckless.

“Want another sip?” Wanda muses teasingly, pointing the glass towards you.

“Oh no, I’m okay, Wanda, thank you.” You answer softly.

“Come on detka,” she says huskily, “just come have one more sip. I don’t think I can finish it alone.”

Really, you can never say no to this woman, so you oblige, standing from your chair and walking over to sit down next to her. Her perfume wafts over you as she leans in and hands you the glass, and you feel woozy.

You take a sip of what little wine is left in the glass and swallow as Wanda watches you the whole time. You turn to the redhead and hand her the glass. She sets it on the table without once breaking eye contact with you.

“Oh Detka, you have a little drop of wine on your lip. Let me get that right-“

She reaches out and cups your cheek. Instead of wiping it away with her thumb like you think she will, she leans in and captures your bottom lip between your own. She sucks on it softly and you nearly moan. Before you can really process what’s happening, she’s pulled away, a knowing smirk on her face, “There baby, all better now.”

“W-Wanda- I.” You stutter.

“Hmm?” She asks, sickeningly sweetly.

“Can you do that again?”

“Do what again, baby?”

You almost whine at her teasing, “Kiss me, Wanda. Please.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” she whispers, already pressing her lips to yours again.

You sigh deeply as the flame rekindles in your belly and your heart beats faster. Your kisses are fast and sloppy, your tongues battling for dominance. Keeping your lips on hers you shuffle, straddling your legs on either side of her lap as you wrap your arms around her shoulders.

Wanda groans and grabs your hips tightly, digging her nails into the slight bit of bare skin showing as your shirt rides up.

She tastes like chocolate strawberries and wine and you chase her lips like you’ve been starved for days. Wanda just smells so good, and feels so good, and tastes so good that you’re insatiable. Unknowingly, you rock your hips a little, and a jolt of pleasure shoots through you at the friction between your legs. You moan into her mouth and try it again, this time rolling your hips more aggressively. Combined with Wanda’s kissing, it feels really good.

“Careful Detka, don’t start something you can’t finish,” Wanda warns lowly.

You pull away suddenly, gasping for air, “Wanda, I want this. I- I want you right now. I need you.”

She looks at you intently, those green eyes both soft and loving while also glazed with lust, “you sure, baby? There’s no going back after this.”

“Please,” you say, this time really whining.

“Start with my thigh,” she orders.

You lean back in and kiss Wanda again like before, but this time with the repeated motion of you humping her thigh, chasing your own pleasure. Wanda’s hands slowly travel down your sides, one stopping to grope at your breasts while the other makes it’s way to cup your ass. The added stimulation to your ass and tits makes you moan into her mouth again.

She pulls away and shushes you quietly, “gotta be quiet, baby. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to hear.”

You nod meekly and bite your lip to keep any more moans from slipping out. Wanda takes the chance to place her lips elsewhere, assaulting your neck and exposed collarbone with bites, licks, and sucking. Before you know it, you feel yourself getting closer to the edge, tension building in your belly. Maybe it’s the pace of your hips, or Wanda just has a sense for these things, but she can tell you’re close. Before you can get there, however,

“Wake up. Stop sleeping the day away.”

You are rather rudely awakened, you think, by Billy. His wet hair drips onto your face as he hovers over you, “Come swim with us and quit being boring.”

“But I’m getting my tan on,” you whine.

“You can do that in the water,” he retorts.

When you don’t make any sign of movement, Billy huffs, “You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?”

Before you can protest, the boy grabs your waist and pulls you up, flipping you over his shoulder.

“Billy,” you screech, “Put me down!!”

He ignores you and starts off towards the ocean. You smack his back and flail your legs but that doesn’t stop him. Before you know it you are met with a blast of ice cold water as he flings you into the salty ocean. When you burst to the surface spluttering you send Billy the biggest glare.

“You’re dead meat Maximoff.”

You quickly wade through the water towards Billy and lunge forward. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down into the water with you. You’re a mix of flailing limbs under the water. You get an elbow to Billy’s face and him a blow to your stomach before you both swim upwards and gasp for air. Tommy is there, laughing at you both, so you and Billy share a sneaky look before grabbing him by the ankles and pulling him down too.

Though you may have been peeved at Billy for throwing you into the water, it does feel rather nice on your hot skin. It also curbed your rather lusty thoughts of your best friends’ mother. The three of you stay out in the ocean for awhile, play fighting, throwing a football and diving for seashells. It makes you feel like a bit of a kid again, and you notice the recent stress of exams, school, and work fading away.

After a few hours at the beach, the three of you make your way back to the house. You drag your gear- sunscreen, towels, snorkels, and the likes to the back porch and collapse on some of the patio furniture. Tommy wanders inside for a moment and returns with a few beers for you all to share. As you sip and make light conversation, Wanda appears from the house, a tray of snacks in hand.

“How was the beach moya lyubov?” She asks, setting down the tray in front of you three.

“It was great, Mom. You should’ve joined us,” Tommy replies before stuffing a few carrots in his mouth.

She takes the fourth chair, which happens to be next to yours, “I wanted you all to have your fun. Plus, I’ve been to that beach plenty of times.”

“Next time though,” Billy tells her and Wanda smiles a little.

“Yes, next time.”

You reach forward to grab a cracker off the tray, and you’re not unaware of the way Wanda’s eyes follow you. You lean back again and munch happily on your cracker, trying to not be self conscious under the woman’s stare.

Suddenly, Wanda reaches out and pulls on the strap of your bikini top, “I like this swimsuit, honey. Where’d you get it? I’m looking to buy some new suits so I can throw out my old ones.”

Wanda’s deliberate touch excites you, and you keep your legs crossed to hide the way your thighs sort of squeeze together.

“Uh Target, I think. The boys got their trunks there too.”

She hums softly, “It’s so hard to find flattering suits nowadays don’t you think? Either they’re two thin pieces of fabric that cover nothing at all or they’re boxy, ugly one pieces that do no one any favors.”

You groan loudly, “tell me about it. I think Billy and Tommy almost left me behind when we went shopping because of how long I was taking. Not that I blame them, though I told them it’s also not my fault there are so few good options.”

“Mom, one swimsuit had fur,” Billy says with a shudder.

“Another looked like a disco ball,” Tommy adds, “like are you going to the beach or a strip club?”

You all burst out laughing at the sadly true comparison.

“All I can say is that I really was lucky to find this swimsuit.”

And as you lean forward to grab another cracker you swear you hear Wanda mutter under her breath, “Lucky for me too.”

*****

Much of the rest of your afternoon had been spent on that back patio talking, snacking and playing cards. Dinner had been light, and with a few booze in your body you were feeling pretty good. You’d wandered off to shower after dinner, wanting to get the sunscreen and sand off your body. The hot water and soap in your hair feels amazing, and you are appreciative of the privacy to process all of the thoughts and feelings from the day. You still haven't gotten over the comment you are sure Wanda had made earlier. A part of you wonders if you’d just made it up, your horny mind so desperate to believe that she finds you attractive too. But even though it was just above a whisper, the words echo in your mind loud and clear- “lucky for me too”. How could you make that up?

It feels wrong and, frankly, rather inappropriate to pursue your suspicions further. Wanda could’ve meant anything by what she said.

Maybe she was grateful that you bought that swimsuit, so now she knew where to buy hers too?

Maybe she was grateful she didn’t have to be subject to some ugly swimsuit you’d have been forced to wear.

Or maybe. No. You couldn’t even let yourself consider the possibility of Wanda being attracted to you. That would be a bad idea that would only get you in trouble.

You decide there is only one way to solve the problem.

After your shower, you slip out of the bathroom into your room only scantily clad in your small towel. You firmly shut the door behind you and drop your towel, making your way onto your soft bed. You lay on your back, head resting against the pillows, and spread your legs a little. You’ve been desperate to ease the ache between your legs for hours and you can’t wait any longer. You hope that maybe, if you do this, your horniness will dissolve and you can go about your business the rest of your trip happily.

As your hand trails lower between your legs, you sigh at the pressure very much needed to cure the intense ache. It feels good, really, but you only wish it was Wanda’s hand instead of your own. You shut your eyes and your breaths become heavier as you indulge for a moment, imagining that Wanda was here. You think about the way she’d say your name huskily, how her perfume would invade your nose as she held you close, how her fingers would know exactly how to make you feel good, and in no time, you’ve reached your high. Though you try to be quiet, you can’t help the semi-loud pleas of her name that leave your lips as pleasure wracks through your body.

You collapse back against your pillows, panting and your hands at your side. You can only revel in your bliss for a few moments before there is a knock on your door. You scramble up, your heart beating fast in your chest, feeling as if you’d been caught. You throw on your pajama t-shirt at the end of your bed, and it just barely covers your ass. But you figure it will work well enough to answer the door. You rush over and pull it open, and are shocked to find Wanda on the other side.

“Hey, Wanda, what’s up?” You ask breathlessly.

It’s then that you notice how her pupils are dilated, and that she has this look in her eyes. One so reminiscent of your dream.

“You know if you needed help, Detka, you could’ve just asked. I’m more than happy to help someone as pretty as you.”

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