#but it's silly enough so I hope it's ok lol
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this is the second time I've had bad symptoms and turned to art of the Patron Saint to feel better. Usopp save me. Save me Usopp. It's been a rough week.
#one piece#usopp#my art#talltales#I GUESS THIS IS VENT ART?#but it's silly enough so I hope it's ok lol#I've had cold hands and slight trembles all day. He understands me I understand him.#going 'I'm just like him fr' is the only thing working rn
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Hobonichi updates 🖊 📖
#doodles#non fandom stuff#hobonichi tag#dailylife#hobonichi techo#well ok maybe some of it is fandom stuff but not enough for me to bother with the proper tags#i almost forgot i wanted to post this stuff!#but i remembered cause of the comic i did about today!!!#it was a really funny interaction. kids are so silly. it's fun to make them laugh#especially when they seem kinda stiff or nervous about asking questions#ah... there were a lot of other entries i coulda posted but I've been writing a lot of personal stuff#I've been going through so many like... mini mental health crises since late April#at the end of the year reading back through this journal is going to be interesting#and i hope i am in a better place mentally#or like. consistently. lol#anyway there u go enjoy the kai life journaling nonsense
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got a tattoo last night (cool) (halloween tattoo) (from the artist i really like) with a lot of blacked out patches in the design (also cool) (looks sick) which meant that it immediately started bleeding/weeping/creating ink sacks in the saniderm (looks kind of cool. i guess?) and then somewhere in the 10 minute drive home it immediately started leaking (definitely NOT cool)
#teeth.txt#it was for a small enough amount of time that i just put one of those clear bandages over the leak and called it good#but then this morning there was another part sort of leaking also which is LAME but it's ok#because jack let me crash at his place and she had an extra piece of saniderm bc we both coincidentally got tattoos this week#so then i went home and had some very silly shower mishaps while taking the old one off and such#i cleaned it gently with the antibacterial tattoo soap i have. i hope that's fine i think it is#i just see people say that you shouldn't#touch it at all for the first day#anyways i think i have the situation under control lol#might ask my artist if there's anything else to be done we'll see#have to keep reminding myself that there have been so many tattoos in the world that have healed fine with worse aftercare lol
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erm... I think bitches love lauren....idk tho
#art#tumblr fyp#fypage#oc#silly art#erm what the sigma#silly goofy mood#yuh#I'm actualy very proud of this :D#Bitches MIGHT love Lauren.....idk tho#bitches by msi#It was so hard to do this lol#also kinda took alot of time#worth it tho#or something#i hope#not really#idk#welp#welp it is what it is#it's pretty good#i actualy love this drawing omagahhhhhhh#i love this omg#I cannot even explain why#I lowkey improved alot in art#msi lyrics art#bitches#i love that song#BITCHES LOVE ME! BITCHES LOVE ME!#ok enough yapping
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What would you consider to be middle class though? Cus I had an American Girl doll but I think I was still poor lmao credit card debt
tbh i dont think owning like. A american girl doll makes u middleclass or anything i think i said that lol. bc its like.. a big purchase you save for. but the girl i was talking abt and didnt seem to realize that was like ... not the same for other ppl she was just like "LOL i was just soo into american girl doll i know more abt american girl dolls than you do" when its like No your family could just afford to buy you a rly extravagant gift a couple times over.
#sry this doesnt rly answer the question Ill admit my idea of middle class is a bitt skewed bc i was on that poverty grind as a kid#hashtag living in a hotel hashtag both parents working multiple jobs hashtag going weeks with no food LMAO. so in my mind middle class is#like. can afford to go on an out of state vacation every year. WHICH IS NOTT MIDDLE CLASS RLY IK. but we only went on a big out of state#vacation like... Max every 3 years and that was only road trips. ive never flown b4 lmao... thats another thing is if somebody says Oh ive#flown multiple times im like ohhh oil tycoon parents? richboy over here ? (joking)#like yk. ik that doesnt necessarily mean middle class. my like. for serious definition of a middle class family would beeee. ig if one#parent could afford to be unemployed and the family would still be able to live relatively comfortably (bills paid enough food etc) i thin#id consider that like. at least lowermiddle class...#sry this is a jumble KJABJDBKN yk. i think theres still an inate instinct in me to see anybody living comfortably and go like wowww ok#old money over here... yr parents only work 1 job each your mom isnt even fulltime? which is silly obviously. but yk#basically. i have a hard time distinguishing between like.. any classes above like. poverty. and lower class. bc my brain is automatically#like well they have more money than i did growing up ig they r bourgeoisie scum#JOKE. but yes#that rly was just like a quick Ugh this yter is kinda annoying post LMAO i hope u dont take it too seriously lol.#i had a couple american girl dolls that were my moms when she was little#so im not like Oh you have ag dolls ? guillotine now. LMAO. so yes#SRY AGAIN THIS IS SO RAMBLEY IM TIRED LMAO
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Hi!, can I get some headcanons of transformers one character being jealous and the reader teases them.
D-16, Orion, Sentinel, Badassatron, and elita.
TF-ONE X READER
I tried to make this silly I'm feeling silly...enjoy
Post includes all of above :3
D-16
Tries to act unaffected by it, but doesn’t make a huge deal
Usually
He’s usually nice about it
Let’s say a bot is being really friendly with you, they’re making you laugh and everything. D sees from the distance, then comes up to you. Placing a servo against the small of your back-frame. “Heyy what’s so funny? I want to hear too :)”
He’s forcing a smile so bad.
He’s harmless, man, he trusts you completely
If another bot is for real flirting with you though, he's going to be so passive-aggressive
It’s more like he wants ur attention lol
If you teased him about it he’s going to deny it so hard
"What? No, no no.. I’m not jealous..pfft"
If you’re extra sweet maybe he’ll admit it
NOO y/n.. I’m funnier than them anyway.. I’m cooler too..
Orion
Don’t get jealous often either
He trusts you, he’s trustful of most bots
He gets jealous when you don't give him enough attention too
You’ll be talking to someone and he’ll just be in the background like,
“I’m..Y/N? Hey I..y/n? Uhm..I'm..right here..”
He’s so awkward, he doesn’t want to be rude to either of you but he’s lonely!!
If you tease him about looking sad when you’re not looking at him all the time, he’ll softly scoff.
"Well...yeah. They were flirting with you.."
sad puppy eyes
"Orion..they were asking me about Sentinels speech yesterday.."
"Oh...sorry."
eughhh
Sentinel
Oh boy
It’s a mix of irritation and jealousy
Why are you looking at someone else! When you can be looking at him!
He might be an attention seeker. He’ll just say things to catch your attention.
“Hey sweetspark, come look at my new paint job!” He calls you over as you're busy talking to someone else, he looks exactly the same btw
If you teased him I feel like he’ll take it way too seriously
“Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?? I’m literally Sentinel??”
But then his insecurity starts
“Wait…do you like talking to them more?”
evil sad puppy eyes
He'll only be content if you feed him compliments. Also erm..never talk to that bot again
#toxic
If he can’t demote the bot he was jealous of, he’ll try to one-up them, otherwise they are FIRED
After he gets over it he’ll be extra affectionate. You also get affectionate when you tease him so maybe it’s not so bad after all
insert makeout session
B-127
Badassatron
He’s definitely a bit attention and touch-starved after being stuck in low levels for who knows how many years
It’s only logical that he’s glued to your side for the rest of your life
If he’s jealous it’s very obvious. He tries to do something to get your attention or awkwardly stands there
Hey y/n look at this! - Does a backflip and falls
Tease him about it and he gets flustered
"Whattt? No, I’m not jealous!" He lets out a cocky laugh
“Ok maybe a little..”
Kiss his faceplate all over and he’s yours
He's definitely the least harmful
If he's jealous about a bot he particularly dislikes or they're flirting with you out and about, he might be more passive-aggressive about it
"Hey don't mean to intrude or anything, but uh, I'm kinda busy with my PARTNER. And by PARTNER I mean we're together. Yeah, uh huh! So, if you don't mind, my PARTNER and I are going to ignore you now. Since we're y'know..busy being together."
Elita
She’s smug about her jealousy, but only you could tell
“No, I’m not jealous. What makes you think that?”
Meanwhile, she’s giving the nastiest glare to the other bot.
“You really need to stop bringing their hopes up. Did you hear the way they were flirting with you?”
“Elita...they were just thanking me."
“Don’t even look at them actually"
If you tease her, she either denies it or is very proud
Like yeah she got a little jealous, she has such an amazing partner and anyone in their right mind would see that too.
Or no..she's definitely not jealous. She's just speaking her mind
#transformers x reader#transformers one#cybertronian reader#d16 x reader#orion pax x reader#megatron x reader#optimus prime x reader#headcanons#sillyposting#elita x reader#b 127 x reader#bumblebee x reader#tf1 x reader#tfo x reader#tf one x reader#sentinel prime x reader
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i'll love you forever
pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader
summary: you were sunghoon's first everything; first friend, first love, and first heartbreak. after years of quietly crushing on you, he was finally ready to confess. so ready to confess, that he told his parents the two of you were already dating! it was an easy enough lie to keep up and he kept it up for months, what could possibly go wrong? he thought. little did he know, you would have a falling out and stop talking for months.. and then, you'd both get invited to spend a week at home with his parents, who still believe you're his girlfriend.
genre: smut, fluff, angst, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, fake dating
warnings: minors dni, fake dating is pretty mild (sorry), she kinda doesn’t rate him at the start, these two kind of exist in a vacuum a little bit idk i had a self-enforced word count to stick to and broke it.. (im within the 10% allowance !), sunghoon in a vest, sunghoon arms, sunghoon
word count: 21,858
playlist: click here.. (for my non-spotify babes, the main song is light by wave to earth (which for some reason i put last.. whatever))
author's note: for silly @asahicore. happy birthday pooks i hope it's amazing and that u enjoy reading this when u have the time !!! LOL (lots of love) also im never writing without telling you things again this was so absurd.
to everyone else.. ok happy reading also emma did not beta read this so im sure it's missing its charm .. anyway it's for emma not you 😭 anyway i hope u enjoy regardless and lmk ur thoughts! omg this is the first fic im nervous about posting.......... please enjoy or else.
In the three years since Park Sunghoon moved away for university, he’d been doing a pretty good job of going home to see his parents. They’d welcome their baby back to the nest with open arms and wide grins. With a rehearsed level of indifference, his younger sister, Yeji, would say, “Oh, I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend.” when she saw him at the dinner table. Sunghoon pretended to only be marginally hurt by this.
In the last three months, he hasn’t so much as sent a text to his parents.
Or to you.
Ignoring texts from his mother is devastating. Between classes, he watches as, “Hi, sweetie, I love you 😍,” turns into, “Missing you, honey, know you must be busy but spare some time for your old mummy, no?” which turns into, “Getting really worried now, are you doing okay? Has something happened with YN? Talk to me, I love you, my baby boy!”
Ignoring texts from you is easy because texts from you never come.
Sitting at the end of his bed, Sunghoon rereads a text his mother sent a few minutes ago: Please talk to me, son. Really worried and YN isn’t answering calls either. What’s going on with you two?
When he leaves his room, he finds Jake lying on the couch, and with his keys in hand, Sunghoon says, “I’m going home.”
And the drive is great! At least, he tells his mum it is. In truth, the drive home without you was nearly impossible. Your ever-expanding home time playlist buzzed through the speakers in his car, but without you there to screech along to the songs, it wasn’t the same. He felt your absence the most when he stopped to get petrol and you weren’t there behind him struggling to carry enough snacks to feed a small family without offering to pay.
The look of worry on his mum’s face stirs a pit in his stomach. “Why are you so quiet these days? God, you look so tired,” she says, frowning. “Is it school? Or something with YN? It’s not like her not to text back.” Her brows crease as she whispers the word unless. She pulls him into a hug, her chin resting perfectly on his shoulder, and her comforting hand strokes the hair on the back of his head. “Breakups are never easy, honey. I’m so sorry, I know how much you love her.”
Breakups are never easy. The sentence hangs heavy over his head.
Whether she knows it or not, she’s handed him a get-out-of-jail-free card, the opportunity to set things straight, to end this mess once and for all. No further questions, and most importantly, no more lies.
For the first time since he left your flat three months ago, Sunghoon lets himself cry. He’d imagined this moment countless times, his first cry since you ended things. In his mind, it was always intense. Today, as it happens, only a few salty tears leak from his eyes, spilling onto the cuff of his sleeve, darkening the blue cotton in tiny indigo splotches.
“We didn’t break up,” he says in a small voice—for some reason. “I’m just having a hard time.” Neither statement is technically untrue, but the words taste rotten in his mouth.
The tightening grip of his mum’s arms around his body is what brings on the harsh, shoulder-racking sobs he’d been anticipating. For a while, they stand like this, Sunghoon weeping into his mum’s cardigan until she sends him upstairs to lie down, promising a cup of tea that never comes.
His childhood bedroom is chilly, so he changes into clothes he left behind and climbs into bed, pulling his duvet up to his chin. He turns his head to look at the walls and the room around him, everything is exactly where he left it in the summer. It should be comforting, but it’s weird to be home without you.
There are photos of you and him everywhere, growing up and around each other through different stages of life. The two of you together during the summer your family moved in next door, you wore glasses back then and were the first friend he’d made in his life. Sunbathing and sharing earphones at the beach, listening to music together on your iPod classic. Sunghoon in thick glasses with a stiff smile and your arm around him on the first day of high school. Wide grins at the start of this summer, the last time things were okay between you.
Overwhelmed, he stares up at the ceiling, only realising he’s crying when a hot tear slips from his eyes to tickle his ear. Because Sunghoon likes to upset himself, he screws his eyes shut and thinks about the night before you stopped talking.
Though he didn’t know it at the time, you’d left Yeonjun’s place to sit with him in a tiny restaurant on campus, the one you’d only visit to toast to each other’s heartbreaks. It had become a ritual — ever since your first year boyfriend dumped you after two weeks — to cry as much as you wanted and drink as much soju as your bodies could handle before stumbling back to your apartments.
Having spent years suffering from an unrequited crush on his best friend, Sunghoon was always the one to comfort you. But that night was different; you were there to comfort him. It was easy enough to play the part of ‘boy whose crush likes someone else’ because he spent your entire friendship in that role. He’d had no problem accepting his fate, but his composure started to slip when you met Yeonjun. It was the first time you’d dated someone who Sunghoon had reason to be jealous of. In every way, Yeonjun was better than him—taller, funnier, hotter. Sunghoon knew he didn’t stand a chance. He took it personally, you liking Yeonjun instead of him, and let his jealousy consume him from the inside out.
This jealousy led him to start telling you about Minjeong—lying to you about Minjeong, and his feelings for her. She was a girl from a college out of town that he saw on his Instagram Explore page. He followed her by accident, and by some stroke of luck, she followed back. Sunghoon didn’t really have feelings for her — he didn’t even know her — but she was a girl that you didn’t know, so you wouldn’t be able to meddle.
It only took a few weeks for Sunghoon to become so upset about your relationship that he couldn’t hide his emotions anymore. So, in a fit of tears, he told you over the phone that things ended badly with Minjeong, and he was in urgent need of a soju ceremony.
But the night was missing its usual comforts.
It was strange to be the one crying, to see you looking put together and ordering the food. To see you pouring the drinks and raising your glass to propose a toast to ‘Hoonie’s first heartbreak’. You were driving that night, so you only had a tiny sip of soju and let him drink as much as he needed, the way he always did for you, at the same table, in the same restaurant for years.
Hours later, in your car, you entertained his drunken rambles, though he remembers how your lips were set into a frown that he wanted to kiss away while you gripped the steering wheel like you thought it would run from you. Sunghoon was more drunk than he’d been in a while, drunk enough to let you sling his arm over your shoulders and keep him upright until you reached his flat.
The voices coming from Yeji’s room disrupt the memory. He’s thankful.
“Your brother’s going through something, so be nice to him this weekend.” His mother’s voice is her version of hushed—a loud whisper.
Yeji’s response is harder to make out, but he doesn’t miss the way their mum says, “I mean it, missy.”
A dramatic sigh rumbles through Yeji as she barges into his room without knocking. Sunghoon sits up, feeling an ache in his back and crossing his legs.
“Mum told me to lay off you today, which is fine, but before I do, I need to tell you something.”
Yeji pushes the door shut behind her, and the open window makes it slam, both of them flinching from the sudden noise. She pulls her hair out of a silk scrunchie and throws herself on the floor. A pang of irritation forms in his chest, knowing that he could immediately find the empty hanger in his wardrobe where the shirt she’s wearing used to live.
“I hate you and your perfect golden boy image, Hoon. Would it kill you to fail a class for once? I don’t know how I’m supposed to carry on your legacy.” She’s looking up at him, her chin in her hands and irritation written in the crease between her thick brows.
It’s impossible to know if it’s because of Yeji’s complete lack of boundaries or the fact that her ‘perfect, golden boy’ big brother is on track to fail three out of three classes and get cut from the hockey team, but Sunghoon immediately bursts into tears.
“Oh, uh.. I’m sorry?” Yeji offers. “I was kidding if that helps.”
“I’m alright, it’s okay.” The tears don’t stop stinging his eyes. “Why do you want me to change everything about myself?”
With a frown, Yeji pours out her frustration and mild resentment. She doesn’t understand how Sunghoon effortlessly conquers every aspect of life while she struggles. Neither do their parents, who had been baffled by her plummeting grades since she moved to boarding school, especially when Sunghoon’s academic performance has only soared since he left for university. The weight of this perceived injustice pulls Sunghoon’s shoulders down with guilt as she talks about the expectations he has inadvertently set for her.
“But other than that, I’m good.” She shrugs, sitting with her legs out, and leaning back on her palms. “How’s YN?” she asks. It’s clear from the brightness in her voice that she thinks she’s helping.
Sunghoon cries again.
Back on campus, he’s trying to scrape together what’s left of his academic career with the help of two of the smartest guys he knows, and their friend Jay. Though the word ‘friend’ feels a little strong at the moment given the way Jay’s goading him.
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, sitting back in his seat. “There’s nothing you can do that I can’t,” he says, meaning every word.
Jay scoffs, shrugging and raising his brow in a way that, over the years, Sunghoon knows to interpret as his ‘about to say something ridiculous’ look. “Pretty sure I could call YN right now, and she’d answer.”
There’s a pit in Sunghoon’s stomach as Heeseung turns his head in the other direction like he’s been slapped, trembling with stifled laughter. At least Jake doesn’t hide his amusement, throwing his head back in a fit of giggles that draw nasty looks from the other students in the library. Sunghoon doesn’t waste his energy trying to argue because Jay’s right.
Now composed, Heeseung turns back to the table, flipping through some of Sunghoon’s course materials to find whatever his class was doing in class that week. The English Literature class he’s taking — The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway — is the same class he had to send a million emails over the summer to get enrolled in, but it’s the same one Heeseung aced two years ago. Lucky for him none of the boys seem to be in the mood to make fun of him for trying so hard to have a class in common with you, and then practically failing out of it before the term had started properly.
“This class is, like, beyond easy, dude.” Heeseung pauses to sniffle and twist the stud in his ear. “Everyone in my class aced it. How are you doing so badly already?”
“I only took it because YN thought it’d be fun if we had a class together, but.. I kind of haven’t been going since we stopped talking.” Sunghoon shrugs, pretending to be unaffected.
As if the mere mention of your name has some sort of summoning power, like saying Biggie Smalls in the mirror three times, you appear in his eye line, rounding the corner with a furious stride. Your demeanour crumbles when Jay waves at you, and you grin, waving back, but as soon as you look Sunghoon in the eye again, the rage comes back, and you smack a hand on the table when you reach it, leaning over to him.
“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.
He thinks you’re asking, but it’s hard to tell with the way you set your jaw afterwards, and the way the warmth of your signature vanilla scent hits him hard. Dazed, Sunghoon lifts a hand, pointing at himself. “Me?”
“Does anyone else at the table answer to Sunghoon?”
“Okay,” he says, somewhat pathetically, nudging Jay for laughing at him.
As slowly as possible, Sunghoon pushes his chair from the table and stands up, following you to the corner of the references section where only anthropology students in scratchy thrift store knits, and Jay, come to check out encyclopaedias by volume. You look good, save for the rage written all over your face—which, honestly, Sunghoon thinks he likes.
Sunghoon isn’t sure what to expect, so he says, “Hey.” He’s being cautious, waiting a moment to gauge your reaction. “What’s gooooood?” His cheeks burn as soon as he closes his mouth around the vowel, but you laugh. You laugh, and it’s beautiful and happy, and you’re laughing because of him—or at him, but he’s glad either way.
Annoyance quickly clears all traces of amusement on your face. “Were you ever going to tell me we’re spending next week at Mum and Dad’s?” you ask.
Sunghoon gasps dramatically, clicking his fingers. “I knew there was something I’ve been meaning to do.”
His attempt at lightening the mood falls flat, and you only nudge his shoulder gently, sighing. “Can you be serious? For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me?” You’re frowning, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at your feet. “It’s not fair, Sunghoon. For you to keep saying things—making plans involving me and then acting like I’m the bad guy when I turn you down.”
“I don’t think you’re the bad guy at all,” Sunghoon admits. “If anyone is in the wrong, it’s me, I guess.”
You scoff, looking at him like you hate him. “You guess? Are you serious?” You look furious, but you sound hurt and Sunghoon hates it. Hates himself. “I can’t have this conversation with you right now. Tell mum I’m sick, and it’s contagious.” You roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Sunghoon alone with his thoughts and judgemental stares from students in crochet scarves so long they graze the floor.
He sighs, slumping against the wall. How does he keep getting it wrong with you?
Back at the table, Sunghoon manages to act like he’s not falling apart and makes some serious headway on his missing assignments with Heeseung’s help before they call it a day as the sun starts to set.
When he gets home, he lies down on his bedroom floor, spending hours poring over the conversation you had. Over the minute changes in your facial expression, the tone of your voice, and the endless list of things he should have done, rather than watch you walk away.
The moment feels familiar, both identical to and worlds apart from what happened after you left three months ago. When he managed to scrape the last shreds of his dignity from the kitchen table, he dragged his feet to his room and lay down like he is now, face to the rug. That day, he left his door open and lay so still that Jake thought he was dead. Sunghoon remembers wishing he had been.
For once in your life, even for a second, can you please think about how the things you say affect me? The words run on a loop in his mind, over and over, until he can’t remember the order of the sentence or where you put emphasis. They’re cutting all the same.
Sunghoon sighs into the itchy fibres of his black rug before rolling onto his back. In the diminishing purple light of the setting sun. he looks at the walls of his room. At the Fleetwood Mac poster, he stole from Jay when they moved out of their first year dorm, that curls away from the wall towards the ceiling—a diagonal strip of shiny tape being the only indication of the otherwise invisible tear through the face of Stevie Nicks.
He’s glad when his phone rings, cutting through the quiet, though the sight of your name and the anatomical heart emoji next to it only dampens his spirit. Reluctantly, Sunghoon answers the phone, holding it to his ear.
“I just got off the phone with Dad..” You trail off. Tangible silence follows, so thick it weighs on his chest. “I’ll go home with you.”
“You will?”
“Yes. Goodbye.”
Sunghoon reaches your flat at five in the evening. You don’t smile when you open the door for him, nor do you invite him in. Instead, you dump your bag at your feet and he cringes, looking from the floor to you. You’re aggressively beautiful and cosy-looking as you pull a jacket over the sweater you wore that night. Sunghoon’s heart aches in his chest and he wonders if you even realise. Suddenly, the memory of the last thing you said the morning after hits him like a truck: Then let’s not be friends at all.
A familiar weight lands on his shoulder—your hand. Concern lines your eyes as you ask if he’s okay.
With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods.
In the discomfort of his car, the two of you sit in silence while he starts the drive home.
“How’s Yeonjun,” he asks, eyes flicking towards you but regretting it immediately when he sees how you clench your jaw.
“No,” you say simply, shaking your head. “You don’t get to ask me about him.”
These are the only words you exchange until Sunghoon stops for petrol. He has enough fuel for the rest of the journey, but he feels like dying and thinks the fresh air might quell his thoughts of running his car off the road. Like always, the two of you get out and head into the kiosk, where he follows you wordlessly through the aisles, watching you debate on snack choices before settling on the same things you always get. Sunghoon pays for your snacks and you roll your eyes but don’t protest, mumbling thanks as you take them into your arms, leading the way back outside.
He knows he needs to tell you before you reach the house, but he’s not entirely sure how to say it—so he just does. “My, uh.. my parents think we’re dating.”
You stop so suddenly in front of him that he almost bumps into you. Stepping around you, Sunghoon keeps walking.
Over the top of his car, he watches your face cycle through all five stages of grief until anger comes back around in the loop as you scoff. “Why do they think that?” Your face is devoid of expression now, the blankness over your features dragging a sharp chill over his spine.
He stares blankly at you, processing. “Because I told them we’re dating,” he mumbles.
“Why did you.. do that?” You tilt your head, eyes pressing shut in a long blink. “What are you even talking about? Why did you.. What?”
A thin layer of sweat coats his palms despite the cold. Why did he do that? “We can stage a breakup during the trip or say we broke up right now,” Sunghoon offers. “Just one night, YN, please.”
The wind whistles by, ruffling your hair and jacket that you hug tightly to your chest. Behind you, Sunghoon takes note of the group of girls standing by the pumps, all five of them jerking their heads abruptly when they notice him watching, suddenly finding interest in the scattered litter and flickering halogen bulbs in the steel canopy over their heads.
You’re staring when he looks back at you, nostrils twitching with a sniffle before you sigh. “Or we could say that you’re a liar and end things there,” you say. “Or better yet, you go down there on your own and tell them the truth.”
Sunghoon’s gaze drops, his thoughts racing in his mind. He knows you’re right. At some point, his parents will have to find out, and it’d be better for them to find out now. Sunghoon sighs, nodding. “Alright,” he concedes. “I’ll take you back.”
An angry laugh comes out of you as you shake your head. “No need, I’ll walk.”
The station you’re at is neatly nestled in the middle of nowhere, on a road so narrow he’s not even sure it has a pavement. You’re halfway through the three-hour drive, so there’s no telling how long the walk would be, never mind the fact that the sun is already setting and it’s deep enough into October for the wind to sting.
“From here?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yes, open the boot so I can get my bag.”
Sunghoon can only bring himself to say your name, a desperate whisper.
“Open the boot.”
He repeats your name as if it’ll make a difference, he’s pleading with you, begging—though he doesn’t know for what.
You go to the back of his car where Sunghoon joins you, a pit in his stomach when you step away. With misty eyes, you look up at him and his heart breaks. “Please.”
Sunghoon knows you well enough to know that you’re not actually going to attempt the walk home but also knows that you won’t back down if he keeps challenging you. He nods, opening the boot for you and getting into the driver’s seat—your move.
You stand there, unmoving, and long enough passes that he thinks you’ll actually leave. The boot closes softly and you join him in the passenger seat. You sigh, buckling your seatbelt. “Let’s just get this over with.”
For the rest of the journey, you sit in silence as Sunghoon briefs you on the relationship, fighting a smile as he thinks about being your boyfriend—even if only for a night. You scoff when he ‘reminds’ you that you’ve been together for four months now and the only reason you haven’t been able to come home recently is that your schedules don’t match up very well anymore—which couldn’t be further from the truth as, before term started, you went out to celebrate the fact that your class schedules couldn’t be more suited for seeing each other.
Finally, at Sunghoon’s childhood home, the two of you smile and laugh for his parents before going to bed. Your relationship has only made his mother more averse to the idea of you sharing a room under her roof than she had been when you were younger. He’s relieved about this, and in the solitude of his bedroom, he lies on the duvet of his twin bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about the last few hours.
With his parents, you’d sat up in the living room watching TV. They sat on the couch together, his mum nestled in his dad’s side, while you two sat on the couch opposite, mirroring their position. If your complete stiffness was anything to go by, you were less than comfortable with his arm around you and Sunghoon felt terrible for begging you to go along with this. It was after midnight when you all went upstairs and you let him kiss your forehead before all but slamming the door to the guest room in his face. His heart twirled and his mum beamed at him before saying goodnight again.
Now, at 3 a.m. he can’t sleep. Flinching at the knock on his door, he furrows his brows and goes to open it. It’s you. Standing there with your hair scraped away from your face in one of his t-shirts. Your eyes are red, brimmed with tears as you step into his room and sit on his bed.
He closes the door softly, heart aching at the sight of you so upset, and when he sits next to you, his heart tears apart because you move over, putting a distance between you. It falls out of his chest onto the floor when he realises you’re not wearing your necklace.
Sunghoon suspected you might have stopped wearing it, it only made sense that if you didn’t want him, you wouldn’t want the necklace he bought for you either, but at least earlier, your sweatshirt sat so high he couldn’t see if you had it on or not.
It was a gift for your sixteenth birthday, after your first heartbreak. He was so upset and angry that you let some loser hurt you that way, upset and angry that someone could be loved by you and fuck it up. Sunghoon was inspired by Jay, who’d gotten a pretty necklace for his girlfriend, and talked about her cute reaction for weeks, how happy she was to have a piece of him with her all the time. It was a locket, with a picture of Jay in one side and a picture of her in the other so the pictures would kiss when she wore it.
While at the jewellers with Jake, Sunghoon thought something like that might be a bit much for the two of you and eventually picked out an equally pretty piece with his first initial on it. He wrote a corny note to put in the box, something about how ‘boys come and go but Sunghoon is forever’ and gave it to you with trembling hands a few nights later—it was the first time he ever made you cry. Immediately, he thought he’d done something wrong and was ready to snatch the box and run back to the jewellers (even though he trashed the receipt). You hugged him and told him you loved him. Sunghoon’s been riding that high ever since.
Until tonight at least.
“Are you okay?” he whispers.
“I’ll do it, Hoon.” Your eyes lift from the floor to meet his gaze. “For as long as you need me to, I’ll pretend.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, Sunghoon feels lighter, an unbearable weight slipping from his shoulders. You haven’t called him ‘Hoon’ in ages, and he can’t tell if you’ve said it out of vulnerability, or even noticed that you’ve said it at all, but it warms his heart nonetheless. However, he’s not fully at ease, still curious about your sudden change of heart and why you’re crying.
“What happened?”
You pull him into a hug, and his eyes bulge out of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, the words muffled by the skin at the base of his neck.
For as long as he’s known you, you’ve smelled like vanilla, a sweet warmth that grounds him. Yet it’s only after these months apart that he’s able to put a name to the sensation: home. The realisation of how much he’s missed this feeling, missed you, floods him with a rush of emotion so overwhelming he can’t find the words to press the issue. A moment passes before he remembers to hug you back, his arms finally wrapping around you, pulling you close, and you sink into his hold. Months ago, he would have kissed the top of your head and mumbled reassurance into your hair, but tonight, Sunghoon settles for stroking the back of your head and hopes it’s enough.
“You can talk to me, you know? You can always talk to me.”
A heavy silence follows, sharp as a dagger—scraping his skin, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on edge and lodging itself between his shoulder blades. Sunghoon’s breath hitches in his throat when you cling onto him even tighter, shifting so close you’ve had to settle in his lap. His heart races in his chest, pounding a rhythm so loud it fills the room.
Finally, you speak, assuring him that you know and that you’re okay. At this, Sunghoon holds you as tight as he can, and neither of you speaks for the rest of the night. You fall asleep like this, in his arms, so deeply that you don’t even stir when he lies down.
Rubbing your back, he watches the clock on his nightstand, the piercing green LED digits cycling through two whole hours right before his stinging eyes until you wake up. Sunghoon presses his eyes shut, pretending to be asleep when you kiss his cheek and leave his room.
For the entire morning, you stay in your room, and although Sunghoon is concerned, he decides not to bother you. In the afternoon, he sits at the dining table with his mum, listening as she talks about work. When she asks him, he gets up to make a cup of tea for her. It’s at that moment when you finally come downstairs, looking so effortlessly pretty. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re bundled up in one of his old sweatshirts. There’s a bright grin on your face that leaves his heart thudding.
“Baby!” you squeal when you see him, charging towards him and wrapping your arms around him from behind. “Good morning.” Your words are muffled against the back of his t-shirt, and the four-letter word, and the sugar coating it, make his cheeks burn.
“It’s great to see you too, YN,” his mum says with a smile. “My night was amazing; I slept very well and had no dreams.”
You let go of Sunghoon and walk over to the table, kissing his mum on the cheek and wishing her a good morning as well. “Sorry, mum, how are you?”
His mother doesn’t seem to have the heart to correct you either, allowing your 3 p.m. ‘good morning’ to go unnoticed.
Sunghoon carefully fills both mugs to the brim and, with extra caution, carries them to the table. He places a steaming cup of peppermint tea in front of his mum and a milky coffee in front of you. A warm smile spreads across your face as you mouth a ‘thank you’, and his knees turn to jelly.
The next day, after eating an early dinner with his parents at the table, the four of you go out on a walk along the bike path you used to take for school. His parents have gone ahead, not intentionally, but because Sunghoon can’t stop you from dragging your feet.
As with most things in the town where you grew up, nothing about the trail has changed. The leaves are yellowing in standard form for the season, and crunching under his feet with each step he takes. The only foreign experience is the silence that you’re determined to uphold. Everything Sunghoon says to you is met with either a hum, a nod, or no acknowledgement at all. At this point, he feels like he could drop dead at your side and the most you’d do is step over his body like a fallen branch.
After letting you go ahead, the weathered slats of the wooden footbridge sag in the middle under his tread. It’s been like this for as long as he can remember and he wonders how nothing has been done about it. The stream rushes under it, loud and unruly, the smell of wet grass both comforting and suffocating as you look over the railing. It’s like something from a postcard, the low-hanging branches sweeping back and forth under the breeze, the grass lush and green around the path, murky water thrashing against the mud and rocks underneath with you in the middle of the frame, peering over the edge.
You keep walking when Sunghoon approaches, leaving him alone on the creaky bridge with nothing but the ache in his chest. He looks up, staring at the grey clouds in the sky through the gaps in the leaves, and sighs.
Eventually, he catches up with you, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours when his parents slow down. You stiffen, looking up at him with cut eyes and a creased brow. “What are you doing?”
Sunghoon matches your clipped tone. “Holding my girlfriend’s hand.”
“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”
“You think my parents aren’t going to wonder why we’re lagging behind?”
A scoff—your fingers remain defiantly stiff. “Do you think your parents are going to care whether or not we’re holding hands?”
“My mum might after the show you put on yesterday afternoon, baby.” Bitterness covers the word like a blanket, a stark departure from how you said it.
A long sigh rumbles its way out of you before you fix your lips into a strained grin. “Sorry, sweetheart, this is my first time pretending to be in love.”
As your words hang in the air, Sunghoon’s emotions brew like a storm within him. Frustration gnaws at his patience. All hopes for a smooth week are dashed, though determination simmers in his chest with a strong resolve to make this work, to fix your relationship. It doesn’t stop the sharp pang of hurt piercing his stomach—he knows you don’t feel the same way, he knows you’re faking, but the word ‘pretending’ hits him like a truck anyway.
“We held hands all the time when we were friends,” he points out.
Your smile drops immediately, hurt flashing behind your eyes. “Yeah, and now we’re not.”
If there was a competition for who could hurt Sunghoon’s feelings the most, you’d be a shoo-in for first place. With distinction.
“Exactly!” he says, feeling the sting of his own words. “Because now we’re dating.”
At the sight of his mum turning around, you switch up in an instant. Lock your fingers with his, wrapping an arm around his bicep, leaning into him, giggling. It’s forced but his parents are far enough away that all that matters is the curve of your lips.
“You two okay back there?” she asks.
“Perfect! I feel like a kid again!” you call back, beaming up at Sunghoon in a way that makes his stomach flutter even though it doesn’t meet your eyes.
The two of you don’t talk at all when you get home, with you hugging his parents goodnight and running up the stairs.
“She’s not feeling too well,” he explains, nodding when his dad tells him to make you some tea.
His parents spend the whole day at work, and you spend the whole day following him around like a shadow until the evening when they return. He doesn’t pretend not to like it.
Sunghoon helps you make dinner, turning leftover rice into fried rice with the help of some eggs and vegetables. It’s nice moving around the kitchen with you, watching you scramble eggs in his t-shirt and bump his hip with a playful frown when he eats some of the peppers you’re chopping.
His parents watch from the table, cooing over the two of you and he does his best to fight the blush forming on his cheeks and neck. Embarrassed, he hugs you from behind, hiding his face in your neck—the scent of your coconut conditioner mixing with your vanilla perfume doesn’t do anything to stop the flush.
Over a bottle of wine, the four of you eat together at the table, swapping stories about your days. Sunghoon tries to hide his surprise as you lie about the time you spent at the play park by your primary school, competing for height on the swings and spinning on the roundabout until you couldn’t stand up. You grin at him, and it meets your eyes as you hold his hand under the table, and kiss his cheek.
After eating, his parents head upstairs, leaving to clean up together. You hum a song he’s never heard as you load the dishwasher, carefully placing the plates and cutlery in the rack, shaking your head when he hands you the glasses you’d used.
“Leave ours,” you say. “If you want.”
Sunghoon nods, putting them back on the table, where you sit in the seat across from the one he was sitting in. He sits too, staying quiet rather than saying the wrong thing. You don’t speak either. It’s reminiscent of the past—the hours you’d spend in the same room, only speaking to share a funny post you’d come across or to ask if you were hungry.
His eyes track your movements—reaching for the half-empty bottle on the table to pour yourself another glass, filling it to the brim. Before putting it down, you offer him some, filling his glass too when he nods. The three glasses of wine he’s already had must be the reason he wants to reach across the table and hold your hand, run his thumb over the soft skin on the back of it.
Sunghoon doesn’t know why you’ve been so nice to him all day or why it makes his chest hurt.
“You know you don’t have to be nice to me when we’re alone, right?” The words come out before he can stop them.
Over the top of your glass, your brows knit together. A sound of confusion, a low hum, comes from your throat as you try to finish your sip. “What?” you ask finally.
“I only asked you to do this because of my parents, you know? You don’t have to sit or talk with me when they’re not around.”
Sunghoon’s known you long enough to recognise the look that flashes across your face. The way your eyes narrow and your brows tug together, the little pout that sets on your lips before you speak; you’re hurt.
“Why can’t I just be nice to you because it’s the right thing to do?”
Because it hurts, is what he wants to say. He wants to cry, to beg you to forget everything he said that day. “Because I don’t want to make you any more uncomfortable than I already have.” Is what he settles for.
Your face softens. “I don’t feel uncomfortable around you, Hoon. We were best friends for ages, I don’t think you could ever make me uncomfortable.” You pause to take a gulp of wine. “Why can’t I just want to be nice to you?”
Sunghoon has to chew on his cheek to distract himself from how much your word choice stings. The implications of were and all of your past tense. “I’m sorry,” he says.
“What for?”
“Everything.”
There’s a sadness in the way you run your fingers on the base of your glass. The way you chew on your lip, how your hair falls when you tilt your head and how it moves when you shake it. “It’s not your fault,” you say. “I don’t know anyone who would choose to have unrequited feelings for their best friend.”
Wow, he thinks. You’re on a roll. Sunghoon wonders if you’re meticulously choosing your phrasing to upset him. Wonders why you feel the need to remind him that his feelings aren’t reciprocated as if he didn’t live through and spend hours reliving the day he confessed.
“But I didn’t have to tell you about it. It was unfair of me to spring that on you when I knew about Yeonjun.”
“Did you.. did you think I was going to leave him for you?”
“Maybe?” Sunghoon chews on his lip—he has no idea what he thought would happen. “I think I thought I loved you enough for both of us, that you might play the part for fun or out of curiosity, and.. I don’t know, just learn to love me.”
“Hoon,” you whisper, frowning. “How could you even think about settling for something like that?”
Sunghoon shrugs. “It’s not settling if it’s you.”
Silence takes a seat at the table after he speaks, interrupted only by the ticking clock on the wall—a glittery mess of scrapbooking paper and washi tape layered over each other that Yeji had decorated at summer camp years ago. You’re picking at your fingernails, letting flecks of black polish fall to the table, stark against the varnished oak.
“I know it’s not my place to ask,” Sunghoon starts after a while, hesitant and only continuing when you nod. “But what did Yeonjun say when you told him? About.. everything?”
You take a long sip from your glass and sit quietly for so long that he thinks you’re not going to answer him—he doesn’t blame you.
“I didn’t.”
He waits for you to elaborate. You don’t.
Sunghoon nods slowly, deciding not to ask any follow-up questions. Instead, he takes another drink, scrunching his nose at the bitter taste. “He didn’t ask why we stopped hanging out?” he blurts out.
“I told him we fell out but I didn’t say why.” You shrug, but your posture is stiff.
“Where did you tell him you were going to be this week?” He knows it’s not his business at all, that he’s pushing your boundaries, but he can’t help his curiosity.
“Nowhere.”
“You told him you were staying on campus?”
“I didn’t tell him anything.” Your gaze shifts, avoiding his as you toy with the stem of your glass. You drum your nails against it, letting the dull clink ring out.
“So you just left?”
“Does it make a difference to you?”
Sunghoon nods.
For a while, you tug at the drawstrings on your hoodie, pursing your lips to the side, considering this. “Yeonjun and I aren’t together anymore.” Your admission is so shocking that Sunghoon’s jaw drops. He tries to cover his surprise by coughing, his tongue sticking out like a small child. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was because of you.”
Sunghoon’s thoughts move at lightspeed, too fast for him to catch onto any of them and process this information. His emotions compete with each other—disbelief, guilt, and a painful glimmer of hope he hadn’t dared to acknowledge until now all at the forefront.
“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?”
You scoff—an incredulous sound that doesn’t match the sad look on your face. “I don’t know, Sunghoon. Do you think my boyfriend used me to make his ex jealous because of you?”
He’s not sure what he expected you to say, but this is.. Complete disbelief eclipses him as his heart sinks in his chest, shock, and guilt bubbling in his stomach.
“I’m sorry,” he says after too long. “That I wasn’t there. That I haven’t been there.”
“You didn’t know,” you say, gaze softening as you look up at him.
“But I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it.”
You shake your head. “I made me feel like I couldn’t talk to you about it. All you did was change the friendship, I’m the one who ended it.”
“I still should’ve been there.”
“You’re here now, right?”
Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.”
Only one thing comes to mind when you repeat the word ‘always’ before taking a sip from your glass, downing its contents. Sunghoon gets up and crosses the room with wobbly steps to open the fridge, where he pulls out as many bottles of soju as he can hold in his hands and puts them down on the table. He goes back to collect some glasses from the cabinet, puts some of the leftover fried rice from dinner into the microwave, and brings it all over when it’s done, with bowls and utensils. You watch him with a fond smile as he opens a bottle and he hopes you think the flush on his cheeks is from all the drinking you’ve been doing.
“Is it bad that I’ve missed doing this?” You’re grinning now.
Sunghoon shakes his head, raising his glass. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak.”
You grin, clinking the rim of your glass against his. “To YN’s fifteenth heartbreak,” you repeat.
Both of you down the glasses, and Sunghoon refills them, pouring the soju with an oddly steady hand. As you eat spoonfuls of rice and sip your drinks, silence settles over the room. The soft glow of the kitchen lights forms a warm ambience, a cosy familiarity that brings up simple memories—doing homework together at the table while gossiping about your classmates, the first New Year after you were both eighteen and had your first drink with his parents.
For at least an hour, the only sounds are the occasional clinks of forks against bowls, glasses hitting the table, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of Yeji’s clock. Sunghoon’s eyes meet yours, and he can’t help but notice the slight change in your expression when they do.
You clear your throat, running a hand through your hair. “This is my sixteenth, actually.”
“What?”
You take a small sip of soju, staring down at the table. “My fifteenth heartbreak was losing you. Yeonjun is my sixteenth.”
In the two days since your soju ceremony, Sunghoon finds himself sinking into the role of your boyfriend like a hot bath. But there’s no use pretending it doesn’t hurt. Pretending it doesn’t hurt when you kiss his cheek before bed, or when you reach out to push the hair out of his face or snuggle into his side on the couch; because it does hurt—a lot. It hurts to think that in three days when you put your bags in the boot of his car, you’ll sit in silence all the way home. When he drops you off at your flat, you’ll close the door in his face and stop talking to him again. These realisations are harder to confront when he’s alone in his room, like now.
About an hour ago, you asked if you could borrow his car, saying there was something you needed to do on your own. It seemed important, so he handed over his keys with no question. Sighing, Sunghoon gets up from his bed and heads to the shower, where he jerks off to clear his mind. On his way back to his room, he notices the light leaking from the open kitchen door that illuminates the landing.
He hears the lock on the front door clicking, and stands at the top of the stairs, dripping water onto the carpet while listening attentively. His ears perk up when he hears a gasp—his mother.
“What’s this for?” she asks.
“I just..” You trail off. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to thank you both for always looking after me.” You pause, and Sunghoon holds his breath, waiting. Your voice trembles as you continue. “It’s been hard since my parents went back home, and I guess it was still hard when they were here, but you both supported me. I don’t think I could’ve managed without you guys. I want to make you guys proud, you know? And I’m trying, really, so this is me saying thank you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”
He grips the railing by the landing, digging his nails into the wood until they start hurting—an ache in his fingertips that makes him wince.
An odd feeling settles in his stomach, a bittersweetness tinged in his fondness for you, and the gentle shock of realising how much his parents have done for you. Growing up, you became an honorary member of Sunghoon’s family. His parents showered you with gifts during holidays and birthdays, which you often celebrated with them rather than your own family.
The memory of your parents’ sudden decision to move across the country still lingers, and Sunghoon vividly recalls the tearful conversation he overheard at the top of the stairs. Your parents understood the enormity of their request but had earnestly asked if Sunghoon’s parents could continue looking after you.
His chest tightens when you start crying.
“You don’t have to thank us for anything, sweetie. Just you being here and taking care of our boy is more than enough thanks. You never forget our birthdays, and you always come and visit when you can. You’re doing a great job, and you should give yourself some credit,” his dad says, a little choked up. “We’ve always been proud of you.”
Sunghoon’s eyes sting with tears and his skin gets dry in the spots where the water from the shower is evaporating. He presses his fingers to his closed eyes, forcing a few tears to fall and walks the rest of the way to his room with his eyes shut. He can’t hear anything through his closed bedroom door, which he decides is a good thing as he coats himself in moisturiser and swipes deodorant under his arms with intention to spend the whole night alone. Once he’s dressed, he gets into bed and pretends not to be bothered by the way his wet hair dampens his pillow. Under the duvet, he tosses and turns before sighing and heading to Yeji’s room.
In her absence, the room’s subtle transformation is stark. The sage green-painted walls, once a backdrop to the A3 faces of Wave to Earth and Beabadoobee, now bear the faint imprints of those missing posters. Tiny, shadowy rectangles are the only remnants of the 6x4-sized pictures of her and her friends, of her and Sunghoon, that she took away with her to school.
Her hairdryer is still on her desk where she’d left it for him to use and he sits in her stiff wooden chair, plugging it in. The airflow starts immediately, hot and loud, humming throughout the space as he runs his fingers through his wet hair, feeling cosy under the heat. His shampoo is fresh and soapy scented under his nose, and his reflection watches him in Yeji’s mirror, eyes red and concerned while his hair blows around his head. Sunghoon closes his eyes and finishes his hair, sighing as he lets his worries slip under the whir of the fan.
Finished, he shuts off the dryer and opens his eyes, flinching at your reflection in the doorway behind him with a soft smile on your face. “Mum and Dad are going to open a bottle of wine if you want to join,” you say, meeting his eyes in the mirror.
Sunghoon can’t find it in himself to speak, only nodding in response. You smile wider but don’t move. He unplugs the hairdryer and leaves it on the desk where he found it before crossing the room. Without giving himself a chance to think about it, he pulls you into a hug and kisses the top of your head, smiling into your hair when you wrap your arms around his waist, holding him closer.
You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, mumbling sleepily that you’re never going to drink again, and Sunghoon leans over the sink brushing his teeth, he’s glad you have the decency to cover your mouth as you speak.
“Brush your teeth and go back to sleep then,” he mumbles around his toothbrush.
You don’t respond.
Sunghoon sighs through his nose, spitting foamy toothpaste into the sink, leaving bubbly, blue splatters on the porcelain. “And quit staring at me, I can feel your beady little eyes on the back of my neck and it’s freaking me out.”
“But you’re so pretty,” you coo.
There’s a flutter in his stomach and he rinses off the sink and his mouth, buying himself some time. With a hand on the Listerine, he lifts his gaze to meet yours in the mirror and stops short. You’re still staring at him, features soft and glowing under the afternoon light. You look like an angel; a gentle smile spreading over your lips, and a sleepy glint sparkling in your eyes, wide and gorgeous as you watch him. Sunghoon gulps, mumbling his thanks and looking back at himself. He hopes you can’t see the flush on his cheeks.
“Go back to sleep,” he says.
“Will you come and lie down with me if I do?” Your voice is a sleepy drawl, coming out in a slow, high-pitched slur, and your eyes are closing on themselves.
Lying down doesn’t sound like a terrible idea, especially not if it’s with you, so he nods. “If you brush your teeth, then yeah, baby, I’ll lie down with you.”
You chuckle softly at Sunghoon’s agreement, the sound carrying a mix of exhaustion and genuine amusement, showing no repulsion to him calling you the B-word. He didn’t mean to, it’s been a confusing few days. You nod, saluting to him and getting up to join him by the sink, using your hip to bump him out of the way, but he feels like he’s glued to the spot.
“Move, baby,” you mumble sleepily, reaching for your toothbrush. “We can cuddle in my bed,” you suggest, to which Sunghoon only nods, taking your words as a cue to unstick his feet from the floor and go to your room, playing the word ‘baby’ on a loop in his head.
He stands in the doorway staring at your bed, the duvet is all crumpled in the middle, and the pillows are in an L shape at the top corner. He sighs, he can’t go on like this, can’t stand around hoping even a tiny part of you called him ‘baby’ and it meant something for you as it did for him. It’s not fair for him to project his feelings on you like this, but he can’t help it. You’re already pretending for his parents, so would it be so bad to pretend for his sake as well? Even if only until the day after tomorrow when you leave?
The sound of the bathroom door shutting behind you snaps him out of his thoughts, your bright smile making his heart race when you tug him by the sleeve to your bed where the mattress dips underneath you as you curl into his form, resting your head on his chest and falling asleep. You’ve shared the bed before, countless times, but he knows you’ve only asked him because you’re tired. Because your brain is foggy with drowsiness that clouds your judgement, not because you want him there, not because you miss him when he’s two doors down the hall, tossing and turning at night thinking about you. He wonders absently if you can feel his aching heart beating through his chest, a painful, yet all too familiar rhythm that pulls his own eyes shut, plunging him into a deep sleep too.
It’s dark in the room when he wakes up, the sun already down behind the curtains and the soft yellow of the bedside lamp casting a glow around the space. You’re staring up at him, smiling and you don’t look away when he catches you. “What is it?” he asks, voice thick with sleep.
“Nothing,” you mumble. “I just missed you.” Sunghoon has no time to respond or even register what you said before you clear your throat, speaking again. “Come on, dad’s cooking tonight, he’ll need help.”
Helping Sunghoon’s dad with dinner always looks an awful lot like Sunghoon eating snacks on the kitchen counter and staring at you as you help his dad cook. Tonight is no exception, he’s sitting on the island, and his snack of choice is a family pack of Chilli Heatwave Doritos his mum bought for Yeji. He’ll have to remember to replace them before leaving seeing as he’s reaching the halfway point.
You go back and forth with his dad about measurements, with you rummaging through the drawers for measuring cups while his dad says it’s best to trust your gut. Reluctantly, you nod, chewing the inside of your cheek as you watch him eyeball the seasoning.
The gas stove turns the kitchen into an oven, and you complain about it while opening a window, pulling your hoodie over your head and leaving it in Sunghoon’s lap. Time stops when you grin at him, the light from the stove hood illuminating the necklace you’re wearing, his initial resting on your chest and glowing under the light. He chokes around a crisp when he sees it, catching your attention with his coughing.
“You’ll spoil your dinner, snacking like that, baby,” you scold, using a hand to push his knee. “We’re almost done, I swear.”
All he can do is nod, cheeks burning as he folds the crisp packet over before putting it back in the bread bin where he found it.
“Wow,” his dad says, resting his hands on his hips and shaking his head in amusement. “Being in love looks good on him, he’d never have listened if I said that.”
It’s already your last day when Sunghoon picks up Yeji from school. She grumbles for the entire half-hour drive and all the way to the front door about why the two of you couldn’t have started the trip today instead of ending it, but all of her irritation dissolves when she sees you in the hallway, leaving the front door wide open to fling her arms around you. You and Yeji exchange compliments for a while — You look so pretty. No, you look so pretty. I love your hair. I love your hair. — as Sunghoon locks the door and watches with a smile.
“God.” Yeji sighs, holding you by the waist and craning her neck up to look at you, as you push some of her hair from her face, pinning back her wispy bangs with the palm of your hand. Yeji giggles. “I’m so happy you two are together, even though I have no idea what a girl like you sees in my loser brother.”
Sunghoon rolls his eyes, leaning back against the wall. Despite his mild irritation at Yeji’s words, he finds the sight of you with her so adorable his stomach flutters. Over the top of Yeji’s head, you look at him with a fond smile. “He’s not so bad.”
It doesn’t sound like a compliment, but Sunghoon takes it to heart.
Like always, Yeji manages to capture your undivided attention and the two of you giggle and whisper with each other all afternoon while Sunghoon watches, too enamoured by the sight to care about being left out. An hour or so passes like this, until his parents get home from work, excited to see Yeji after a few weeks, and you leave her side, coming to cuddle with Sunghoon instead.
It’s nice being home with everyone, laughing and sharing a meal before his family walks the two of you to his car with at least a month’s worth of cooked food for you to share at university. Yeji makes you pinky promise that she can visit you and waves with a pout on her face until the car is out of view.
Contrary to what he’d been expecting, the drive back is nice. Your playlist is on, and you’re telling him about all the new songs you added, catching him up on things with Chaewon and Yunjin, and all the things you got up to in the time you spent apart. You tell him about a new café that opened up near your place and how you’ll have to go together when he has the time, and Sunghoon bites his tongue before telling you that he always has time for you. The first half of the trip goes on like this but you start dozing off around the halfway mark, your sentences becoming few and far between, eventually turning into half-mumbled thoughts that end prematurely.
You’re still asleep when he reaches your flat, head propped up against the window with your soft lips parted, looking too pretty and cosy to wake up. Instead, he drives in circles around your block, deciding to wait for you to wake up on your own. It only takes a half-hour but you blink your eyes open, stretching your neck before looking around and out the car window, recognising the street. You don’t say anything, only smiling when you look at him, a small curve of your lips that makes his heart race.
He gets out of the car with you, opening the boot to get your bag before pulling you into his chest for a hug, liking the way your arms settle around his waist. “Thank you,” he mumbles into your hair.
Sunghoon doesn’t follow you when you take your bag from him, only watching from the back of his car. You don’t notice until you reach the main door, looking over your shoulder and frowning at him. “Aren’t you going to walk me up?”
The two of you walk in silence up four flights of stairs as the lift in your building is out of order. Your bag feels much heavier in his hand now than it did outside. At your door, he watches you dig around for your keys, sighing with relief when you find them.
“Do you want to come in?” you ask from your open doorway.
“I—uh—I have training in the morning and I’m already pretty tired, so..” He trails off.
Unfazed, you nod. “Right, of course. I had fun this week.”
“Yeah, me too.”
You smile at him, sweet and sincere. “Text me when you get home, yeah?”
Sunghoon nods, saying goodbye. Out of habit, he doesn’t leave your doorstep until he hears the lock click shut, and walks back to his car with his head down.
True to his word, he sends you a text to let you know he got back to his place safely and you read it immediately but don’t reply. It’s empty in the apartment, Jake is out with his football team and the space is larger than usual in his absence. Far too tired to even consider going out and joining him, Sunghoon goes through his night routine, putting his phone on the charger and stepping into the shower where he spends entirely too long wishing he could live in this week forever as he scrubs his body. With brushed teeth and damp hair, he goes back into his room where his phone lights up with a notification; a text, from you.
YN🫀: i’m glad you got home okay, i just got into bed :) i don’t want to make you uncomfortable or overstep or anything and you can say no (obviously).. i’ve been missing you so much and didn’t know how to reach out or if you wanted me to but i had soooo much fun this week and spending time with you again made me happy, so i’d like it if we could keep hanging out, like before yk? ik it’s a long shot ahahaha but just say you’ll think about it?
hoonie: You’re not overstepping at all, I’ve missed you too, so bad. I had soooo much fun this week as well and I’d like it a lot if we kept hanging out, thank you for agreeing and coming along 😚 If you’re free after Lit tmrw you could come over? Or we could go out and do something, whatever you prefer
hoonie: I missed you so much..
hoonie: 🤍
The texts greet you as the first rays of Monday morning light filter into your room, instantly lifting your mood. Your bright smile doesn’t escape Chaewon’s notice as you find her in the kitchen, bathed in the soft light seeping through the sheer curtains. The kettle is boiling with a loud rumble that fills the whole room and leaves her yelling as she speaks to you.
“Good trip?” she asks, coming over and hugging you. “Never leave me for that long again,” she mumbles into your shirt.
“It was a week, Wonie,” you say, rolling your eyes even though you missed her too.
She leans away, looking at you with knitted brows. “It was nine days.”
“The longest of my life.”
Chaewon pulls air through her teeth, tilting her head and releasing you. “That bad, huh?” she asks, walking back to her seat at your tiny square table and shooting you a look that tells you to join her.
During your trip, you gave her nightly updates over text, so you know she knows how much you enjoyed yourself, but you elaborate anyway, sitting across from her.
“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head and trying to fight a smile. “I had fun.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you have to bite your bottom lip to stop the grin curving them; it doesn’t work.
Chaewon raises a suggestive brow, crossing her arms over her chest. “How much fun?”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” she defends, holding her hands up. “I made an implication. It was only a matter of time, you two have that whole.. lifelong best friends to lifelong lovers thing going on, and it’s hot.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re telling me, you spent nine days playing lovers with Sunghoon and you still don’t want him? You’re a lost cause, people would kill for that chance,” she says, tilting her head. “I think I would kill for that chance.”
“Don’t touch him.”
“Oh?”
“Jesus, Chaewon, it’s not like that. Hoon’s too sensitive for your roster.”
“I never said it was like anything, you’re the one who’s dangling me over the ledge for saying I want to fuck your hot best friend.”
“Sunghoon isn’t hot; he’s..” You find yourself at a loss for words, unsure how to continue your lie. Of course, Sunghoon is hot, you’ve known since you were seventeen and spent the summer at your grandparents’ house, only to come back to find your previously scrawny best friend having ditched his LEGOs for dumbbells. You sigh. “Just leave him alone.”
Chaewon grins, eyes sparkling as she leaves the table. “Okay,” she says in a singsong voice, leaving you and the irritation in your stomach alone in the kitchen.
You sigh, pressing your eyes shut and trying to will away your discomfort. It’s not like Chaewon would actually try anything with Sunghoon. Right? Even if she did, it wouldn’t bother you, nor would it be any of your business. They’re grownups and reserve the right to explore their options. Still, there’s a nagging feeling you can’t shake, an uninvited guest in the back of your mind.
When you check your phone, you realise you have half an hour before you need to head to campus, so you leave to get ready and text Sunghoon back on the way to your room.
you: sounds good, see u later 🤍
After showering, you stand in front of your wardrobe, towel hanging from your body as you pick an outfit. For some reason, you feel under pressure, picking a pair of jeans that do the most for your ass and a low-cut top that Sunghoon once — drunkenly — said he loved on you.
You have the residual sting of mouthwash on your tongue, and one foot out the door when your phone vibrates in your hand.
hoonie: Do you want to head to class together?
you: sure! i’m omw out, where should i get you?
hoonie: .. I’m outside your building :D
Breathing a laugh through your nose, you don’t fight the giddy smile on your face as you make your way downstairs to meet Sunghoon. Through the glass in the main door, he’s standing at the edge of the pavement and kicking a stone between his feet. The top of his puffer jacket covers the bottom half of his face, and the draught nips your skin when the door opens. Two girls you vaguely recognise stumble in with smudged makeup and heels in their hands, smiling at you while holding the door to let you out.
“Hey!” you call out, jogging over to him.
Sunghoon turns around, his head poking out of his jacket to grin at you, holding a travel cup and an abundance of tinfoil in your direction.
“I wasn’t sure if you’d have eaten anything yet, you don’t normally in the morning,” he says, a sheepish smile spreading over his lips when you take it. “Matcha. Ham and cheese toastie.”
“Did you make these?” you ask, inspecting the familiar cup and appreciating the warmth it provides.
He hums, nodding his head.
You ignore the heat spreading over your cheeks and thank him with a hug, grinning when he offers to hold your drink while you eat on the walk. The toastie is still hot, the cheese coming close to burning your tongue as you chew, but you appreciate it wholeheartedly, humming contently with each bite. When you’re done, you shove the foil into your pocket, taking your drink from him and smiling around the sweet taste of a matcha latte as he tells you about his schedule for the day.
“I’m meeting with Coach after class to talk about my grades, but I’m all yours after that.”
“Talk about your grades? What’s wrong with your grades?”
Sunghoon groans, head falling back and highlighting the bump of his Adam’s apple. “My grades are.. I failed my coursework this month, so I have resubmissions during finals, and I think he’ll bench me if I fail again.”
He sounds like he’s being serious, and if the look on his face is anything to go by, he is. The news creases your brows because for as long as you remember, Sunghoon’s grades were your parents’ favourite point of comparison.
“Really?” you ask. He nods. “What’s up? Is something the matter?”
A humourless laugh slips out of him before he pulls air through his teeth. “Yeah, my best friend didn’t talk to me for three months.”
“Oh..” Guilt stirs your stomach as you look up at him. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not blaming you, it’s not like I was trying to talk and you ignored me.” He nudges your arm with his elbow, giving you a warm smile. “But if you feel as guilty about it as you look, you can tutor me for Lit.”
“Deal.”
Sunghoon grins, wrapping his arm over your shoulders and holding you close; the action itself isn’t unusual, but the increased heart rate it brings about is. “You’re too good to me,” he says, holding onto you for the rest of the walk to class.
At his request, you sit with Sunghoon in the back row, watching as the lecture hall gradually fills up in front of you. He seems well-prepared, with his laptop and a small notepad and pen neatly arranged on the desk in front of him.
Throughout the class, your eyes inadvertently track his every move. He diligently types up colour-coded notes, occasionally pausing to write things in his notepad before continuing to type or stopping entirely to listen. There’s something melodic about his actions and the way his fingers run over the keyboard.
During a five-minute break, you glance at his screen. What you find is more than just lecture content; it’s a document adorned with Sunghoon’s own musings about Hemingway’s style and carefully analysed quotations that go beyond the class discussion.
“How are your notes so good?”
“I picked up the book over the summer when you mentioned it,” Sunghoon replies with a shrug, a shy smile playing on his lips as he leans back in his seat. “I liked it.”
A slow nod is your response, though your thoughts swirl like autumn leaves in a breeze. The last time Sunghoon read for leisure, you were in primary school, buddy reading Diary of a Wimpy Kid. But this—this is different. You can’t help but stare at him, awestruck as you take him in. His eyes are wide, shining amber in the sunlight as he pushes some of his hair from his face, frowning when it falls back where it was.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he mumbles.
Sunghoon takes a new line in his document and points at the screen where you watch the cursor move through the words he’s typing: I would’ve read and annotated the Bible if you wanted me to..
There’s no time to digest what he wrote or the funny feeling in your chest as you reread it before he deletes the whole sentence, pressing his lips together and looking out the window. Speechless, you stare at his side profile, willing your heart rate to slip back to normal. Steep-sloping nose, plump lips flattened into a line, two points of the triangular mole constellation on his face. Analysis worsens your condition, breath hitching in your throat before stopping entirely. Warmth and trepidation blend within you, fuzzy enough at the edges to seem like one thing—a single force that makes your palm itch with desire, desperation, to reach out and run a finger over his features, feel the bump of the mole on his nose — the most prominent — against your skin.
You remain this way — silent, watching — even when your lecturer resumes the lesson, and Sunghoon starts typing, writing, and listening again. Polite enough to pretend he doesn’t notice your gaze searing into his face.
After class, and his meeting with Coach, you let Sunghoon lead the conversation and the way to your flat, where you find Chaewon and Yunjin sitting on the couch, whispering to themselves while the two of you study at the coffee table. It’s uncomfortable, an awkward height, too high for the way you’re sitting but you feel calm under the supervision of Chaewon and Yunjin—you won’t do anything to merit teasing in front of them, no matter how badly you want to feel Sunghoon’s face in your hands or stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs.
To the best of your ability, you answer the questions he has for you—he’d written a ton in his tiny notepad during class, his own concerns clear with each neatly-penned iteration of: How to see actions/dialogue for what they are and not what I want them to be? written in the margins and you try not to feel heartbroken for him.
Three hours have passed by when you walk him to the door, the two of you wrapped up in a bubble so secure you’re surprised to find Chaewon and Yunjin still sitting on the couch. They don’t say anything about Sunghoon in his absence, or the fact he’d given you his sweater when he noticed you were cold. You’re not sure why their silence disappoints you.
Instead, Yunjin asks you about trivial things like dinner while Chaewon sits in silence.
“What flavour for ice cream?” Yunjin asks, rolling her eyes when you tug on the blanket but not complaining. “And don’t say something ridiculous like mint chocolate, YN.”
“That happened once! And it was three years ago.. How was I supposed to know you hate fun?”
Chaewon leans into you, letting you curl your limbs around her from behind as you rest your chin on her shoulder, liking the way her clean scent tickles your nose.
“Mint-cho isn’t that bad,” she starts. “It’s a little jarring, sure, but it’s kind of sweet. Like watching people come to terms with their feelings for each other.”
You nod your head, humming in understanding and furrowing your brows when Yunjin scoffs, staring straight at you. Her tone is equal parts cutting and loving, so you know she’s not trying to insult you, but don’t know what she means when she says, “It must be so nice to be as oblivious as you.”
Yunjin never elaborates, and you never ask, actually feeling the statement’s journey in through one of your ears and out the other when dinner arrives. The three of you share pizza, ice cream, and secrets — the three pillars of 20-something-teenage-girlhood — at the kitchen table, with Chaewon sitting in your lap and picking pepperoni from your slices.
It’s only hours after Yunijn’s gone home, that her words circle back to you, the statement and all of its weight perching on your chest with all the debilitation and persistence of a sleep paralysis demon.
“I think I’m getting sick,” you say as soon as she opens her door. “It’s been coming on for a while now, at least a week, maybe more.”
Unimpressed and exhausted, Yunjin looks down at you through half-closed eyes. “Do you..” She pinches the bridge of her nose, sighing. “Do you have any idea what time it is right now?���
“Yes. It’s three a.m.”
“Exactly. See a doctor if you’re sick, I’m going back to sleep.”
“This is an emergen—” Yunjin cuts you off by pinching your lips together. “It’s three in the morning,” she reminds you. “You can’t yell like that in my hallway, come in.”
You nod, crossing the threshold and taking off your shoes next to hers. “Sorry,” you whisper when the door is closed.
Using her hand, Yunjin lifts your chin, squinting as her eyes adjust to the light when she flips the switch to inspect your face. “You don’t look or sound sick,” she mutters, flicking the light back off and going to her room. “What are your symptoms? And why did you come here?”
You don’t have an answer for her last question so you ignore it, following her and tripping over a pair of her shoes in the process. “My cheeks start burning like crazy and my heart races, sometimes it gets hard to breathe.”
“You seem fine to me.”
A shoulder-slumping sigh slips from your lips. “That’s the thing. I’ll be fine and then Sunghoon shows up with his pretty smile and perfect hair and I feel like I’ve run a marathon.” You know how it sounds, choosing your wording meticulously to let Yunjin be the one to say the words out loud instead of you—it’ll be easier to confront that way.
From the doorway, you watch as she arches a brow, her interest piqued. “Oh?”
“I know.” You nod, head bobbing rapidly in furious agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I cough up a lung and die in his bedroom.”
At your words, Yunjin doesn't reply, only lifting her duvet and getting cosy underneath. You feel like you’re glued to the spot, waiting for her to say something, anything, but nothing comes. All she does is pat the empty spot in her bed.
“What are you smirking for?” you ask, entering the room properly and closing the door.
Her response only comes after you’ve taken your jacket and hoodie off, sitting next to her under the covers. “It’s nothing,” she says, laughing.
“Tell me.”
Yunjin sighs, resting a hand gently on your shoulder. You think it’s meant to be comforting but it’s the opposite. “You’ll be fine, I promise. Lovesickness isn’t deadly.”
Feeling the weight of her reassurance, you settle down properly and sigh when your head hits the pillow. Lovesickness. Hmm.
Closing your eyes, you try to sleep but can’t help tossing and turning as Yunjin snores behind you. You pat blindly around the end table for your phone, grabbing it and wincing at the brightness of your screen. Chewing on your lip, you open Google, looking up ‘lovesickness’ and frowning immediately at the results. Endless negativity fills the screen, terrifying words like ‘unrequited love’ forming a pit in your stomach. There’s nothing negative about what you feel for Sunghoon, nothing unrequited—you think.
It was obvious during the trip, painfully so. In the way he’d tuck your hair behind your ear when his parents weren’t there to see, or how he slipped up and called you ‘baby’ in the bathroom, blushing when you said it back. You can’t fake something like that.. Can you?
Yeonjun did.
Shaking your head, you open Instagram to distract yourself. Jake’s story comes up first; he’s at a party where Jay is losing a game of beer pong, and at the other end of the table is Sunghoon grinning with a bright red lipstick kiss on his cheek. You lock your phone, using your hands to press on your belly to stop the stirring.
Oh, you think. Lovesickness.
When you wake up, the first thing you do is check Jake’s story again. The video is still there and that terrible stir in your stomach churns on, burrowing deeply into a pit of canyon-like proportion—so vast there’s a safety railing lining its edges.
You eat breakfast in silence with Yunjin, zoning out mid-chew to figure out the origin of these feelings and how to handle them. Suddenly, the moment hits you clear as day, vivid like you’re watching it on a screen—it was your third night at his parents’ house, after your walk.
You felt bad about how you acted, and what you said, so went straight up to your room. With nothing but the bedside lamp turned on, it was dimly lit, shadows cast on the walls as you sulked, replaying everything in your head. Guilt wrapped its long arms around your body, making you feel sick as you thought about it all. About the hurt etched over his face with every word you said, and the frown that stuck around for the rest of the walk as his hand clung limply to yours.
There was a knock at the door, so gentle you almost missed it, and Sunghoon was standing there when you pulled it open, chewing on his lip with a mug in his hand. Steam skated over the opening, a rich chocolatey smell hitting your nose but the real kicker was the mug itself. In its place on Jake and Sunghoon’s mug tree, it was unassuming, a regular white mug, but upon meeting hot water, the face of young Sunghoon appeared, grinning with his tiny glasses on. It was a gift from one of his old coaches and though he never used it, it was your absolute favourite cup in the world.
You felt soft around the edges when you looked up at him, his eyes wide and unsure as you met his gaze—he brought that mug three hours across the country so you could use it again. The thought shifted your heart into a comfortable position, settling in your chest with overwhelming warmth and an increased rate.
“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat.
“Hi,” he repeated, holding the mug out for you to take. “It’s still hot so be careful.”
Nodding, you covered your hands with your sleeves, taking the cup from him and asking if he wanted to come in. Sunghoon nodded, shutting the door behind him and standing by the bed, watching you set the hot chocolate on the bedside table as you sat down. The two of you stayed like that for a while, with him only moving when you patted the spot next to you on the duvet. Your train of thought escaped you as soon as he sat down, the warmth of his familiar fresh, citrusy scent taking over and becoming the only thing you could register. The smell of summers with him, long days at the beach and short nights spent on the couch at random parties, cuddled into his side with his arm over your shoulders. The smell you’d come to associate with comfort and home—with Sunghoon.
“It’s not fair for me to treat you like shit just because I’m annoyed, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that earlier. I’m sorry.”
A crease ran over Sunghoon’s thick brows as they tugged together, he shook his head. “You don’t have to apologise. I roped you into this whole thing and didn’t even try to think about how you would feel. I’m sorry.” His eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity, mirroring the weight of his words.
“Anyway, I only came to bring you that,” he said, pointing at the cup. “And to check up on you, I’ll get out of your hair for tonight.” Sunghoon wiped his palms on his pants before standing up, reaching behind him to pick up the cloth he brought. For a moment, he stood there, staring down at it in his hand while you thought about telling him to stay, telling him that you wanted him in your hair—whatever that meant. But he spoke before you had the chance. “You left this, at mine, after.. well, you know. I’m sure you left it intentionally, I mean it was folded up perfectly on the end of my bed, so I know you did, but it didn’t feel right keeping it, you always wore it more than me.”
Sunghoon extended his hand, holding it out to you and you knew exactly what it was as soon as the fabric touched your skin after so long. It was the shirt Jay bought him for Christmas in first year—they were roommates still trying to get a feel for each other. For a few weeks, Sunghoon had been pestering you about what he should get for Jay, saying it didn’t feel right not to get him anything, and you suggested a targeted t-shirt, one you’d been laughing at all day after seeing an ad for it on your timeline. Sunghoon was sceptical, but bought the red shirt anyway, hoping Jay would find BEING DAD IS AN HONOUR, BEING PAPA IS PRICELESS funny. He did. And Jay bought Sunghoon a targeted shirt too, your favourite. It was black and two sizes too big, with I NEVER DREAMED I’D BE A SEXY FIGURE SKATER BUT HERE I AM KILLING IT written over the chest.
“Goodnight, YN,” Sunghoon said, crossing the room to leave but hesitating before closing the door. He poked his head through the opening and sighed. “I really am sorry.”
That night, you fell asleep in the shirt, the thinning, yet cosy, fabric wrapped around you like a hug as your heart started to beat a new rhythm, one that eerily echoed the five-foot-eleven figure skater who you let break it.
This morning, Yunjin claps her hands in your face, seeming irritated when you look over at her. “You have class in an hour, what are you doing?” Before you have the chance to speak, realisation covers her face. “Oh, the feelings.”
You nod solemnly, too caught up in the butterflies raiding your stomach to come up with something to say.
At lightspeed, you scarf down the rest of your food, apologising for showing up so late as you head out the door. When you get home, you take the fastest shower of your life and feel grateful Chaewon isn’t around to tease you about the smile you can’t wipe from your face thinking about Sunghoon—you’ll text her later.
You run to campus, feeling the brisk autumn wind beating against your face while the rest of your body overheats under your jacket, hoodie and long sleeve. Despite the discomfort and ache in your lungs, you don’t stop until you reach the door of your lecture hall, huffing and puffing into the faces of classmates who don’t take any notice. Of course, in a stroke of pure luck, your lecturer is late, and you realise bitterly, that all of your huffing and puffing was in vain—you would have gotten to class with time to spare even if you walked.
It’s not a total waste though; you use the time to update Chaewon.
you: i have news wonie.. i like sunghoon
wonie: …………….. fork in the kitchen yn what’s the news?
wonie: OHHHH news to YOU.. can i call?
She calls you immediately. You answer without thinking because your lecturer still hasn’t arrived, and there’s no one sitting close enough to hear or notice you taking a call.
“Are you going to tell him?!” Chaewon’s voice is so loud you wince, pulling the phone away from your ear.
“I don’t know.” You shrug even though she can’t see you, still holding the device at a distance just in case. “I don’t have any confirmation that he still.. likes me. It’s been a while, and I was pretty mean that day.
Chaewon groans and you can picture her throwing herself onto her bed, exasperated. The rustling that comes through the receiver only frames the image, hanging it up. “Did you have to tell him to get a grip?”
“You know..” You trail off, chewing on your bottom lip. “In hindsight, probably not.”
A beat passes, she’s thinking. “Don’t worry,” she says. “I’ll help you.”
“I.. have never been so worried in my life.” You sigh, picking at your freshly painted nails. “But I know you’ll do something no matter what I say, so do what you want, Wonie, but please be subtle about it.”
Chaewon squeals down the phone. “I love youuuuu!” And it’s the last thing she says before kissing the mic a few times and hanging up.
Slumping in your seat, you don’t have any time to stress about Chaewon’s plans because your lecturer walks in, with a travel cup in her hand and a paperback tucked under her arm.
She apologises for being late, running a hand through her hair as she announces that you’ll be watching a film, an adaptation of a book you read at the start of term—Ian McEwan’s Atonement. You spend the first hour of the movie falling in and out of sleep until a text comes through from Sunghoon, and sheer excitement keeps you up.
hoonie: Wanna study together after class?
you: of course!!!!!!
hoonie: 🤍
The rest of the movie goes by in a drag, and you come away from it with a mild irritation towards Saoirse Ronan.
you: class just finished, heading to lib rn
hoonie: Shit, still in the locker room, sorry !!! Omw, can you get a table?
you: i’ll try..
It takes a while but you find an empty booth on the second floor, and set your bag on the plush green seat to take pictures of your surroundings to send to Sunghoon. You sit on the side facing the stairs so he can see you when he arrives. The thought of seeing him makes your heart race and you try out a few natural-seeming poses for when he’s here, cycling between resting your palm under your chin and sitting with your arms crossed a few times until the top of his head comes into view.
Seeing him knocks the wind out of you as he approaches the staircase, taking them two at a time with his damp hair clinging to his forehead and neck. It doesn’t help that he’s wearing a tight black vest, and his sweats are hanging low on his hips. A breath you didn’t realise you were holding slips out when he lifts his head, spotting you immediately as a grin spreads over his lips and he raises his arm to wave, the veins in his forearm peeking out to say hi too. You can’t tell if it’s his lack of winter wardrobe or your newfound appreciation for him that’s making his biceps look so huge but it’s hard to look away, even when he reaches the table.
“Are you hot?” you blurt out.
Sunghoon laughs, raising a brow and something about the way he’s looking down at you makes your cheeks burn. “Depends who’s asking.” He takes his backpack off, leaving it on the table as he sits down, dumping his jacket and hoodie in a pile beside him.
“I’m asking,” you mumble.
“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.”
Is he flirting? It sounds like he’s flirting. Flirt back! “Nice arms.”
He looks down at his biceps for a beat before looking at you warily. “Are you flirting with me?” He can’t fight the smile twitching at the corners of his lips but he tries his best, pressing them into a straight line.
“A little. They are nice though,” you admit.
Sunghoon grins. “Thanks, I’ve had them for a while now.”
You can’t come up with anything to say, too distracted by the way his smile reaches his eyes, lighting up his whole face and forcing a flustered heat to spread over your cheeks and neck. It’s only when you look away from him that you remember what you’re here for. It’s a study date, not a study date—there’s a difference.
You hand Sunghoon the material you’d printed for him over the weekend, excerpts from texts you’d studied in class, so he can practise close reading and proper citation. As he makes his way through them, you can’t help stealing glances, smiling at the way his tongue sticks out a little while he focuses, or how he twirls his pen in his fingers while he’s thinking. You aren’t making the best use of your time together, copying out the slides from class yesterday, but you can’t help noticing the way he watches you when he thinks you can’t see. The small smile on his face while he does so only flusters you, an odd weakness settling in your knees as your cheeks heat up.
After a while, Sunghoon sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Could you stop watching me?”
“If you noticed me watching, that means you’re watching me.”
He shrugs, chewing on his lip. “Well, yeah. I’m always watching you,” he says like it’s a given. “But you don’t normally watch back, it’s distracting.”
“You’re distracting.”
A playful smile curves his lips as he arches a brow, smugness painting his face. “Am I?”
Too scared to verbalise your response, you nod slowly, hoping you don’t look as wound up as you feel.
Sunghoon’s eyes flick over your face, flashing with something you don’t recognise. At least not from him. He sits back in his seat, assessing you and eventually shaking his head.
“You know,” he says, eyes glowing with something you do recognise: cockiness. “If my sexy arms are getting to you that much, I can always put my hoodie back on. Wouldn’t want my little tutor getting distracted, would I?”
Oh.
Your stomach turns with want, mind reeling from his tone and the way his gaze lands on your lips. Sighing, you roll your eyes and try to seem unaffected. “Sunghoon, I never said your arms were sexy.”
His phone starts to go off, buzzing against the table and he turns it over immediately, screen down on the surface as he shifts his focus back to his work. He chews on his lip while he does, eyes flicking back and forth between his phone and the words on the page. Curious, you lean over the table, elbows propped up as you rest your chin in your hands. He doesn’t spare you or his phone, which vibrates another four times, a glance.
“Are you going to get that?”
Sunghoon shakes his head. “It’s nothing.”
You hum, letting just enough curiosity seep into the sound that he’ll elaborate without being asked to. It doesn’t take long for him to deliver.
“It’s just Chaewon,” he says, running his hand through his hair and lifting his head. Sunghoon smiles. “We’ve been texting a lot these days.”
“Cool.” You nod a few times, aiming for nonchalance but hitting bobblehead as you wait for him to continue. He doesn’t, only humming in response, nodding too.
After a beat, he picks up his phone, angling it just high enough that you can’t see the screen. He reads the messages, an exhaled laugh coming from his nose as the tips of his ears redden—Fuck. This is worse than you thought.
Chaewon’s commitment to girl code runs deep—she’s been rebuffing Jake since first year when she overheard a girl she’d never seen before telling her friends she thought he was cute. So you know without having to read the texts that nothing she’s saying is even remotely flirty, you can smell the auto-caps and use of the word ‘buddy’ from across the table.
What you hadn’t counted on, however, was the potential for Sunghoon’s feelings to shift. If they really have been texting more, can you rule out the possibility that he might like.. her? Chaewon is a catch, beyond a catch, and you’d already turned Sunghoon down. Brutally. Of course, he’d move on, he has moved on.
The rest of the study session is spent manifesting, writing Park Sunghoon over and over in the back of your notebook. You fill three pages while brainstorming ways to snatch a lock of his hair until he suggests that the two of you call it a day. He walks you home, telling you about how Jake’s been bribing him with food to get a ride to the LEGO store across town for the new Marvel set.
“With or without the meals, I would’ve taken him, but his ramen is my favourite, so..” Sunghoon says, climbing the last step of your building and holding the door open for you. “He even brought a slice of tiramisu to the rink for me after practice.”
“You’re terrible,” you say, frowning up at him as you search for your keys. “Do you want to come in?”
Sunghoon chuckles, shaking his head. “I have a meeting with one of my lecturers soon, I’d have to leave in—” He pauses, rolling up the sleeve of his jacket to check the time. “—eight minutes.”
“I’m cool with that if you are,” you mumble, suddenly shy.
A bright smile spreads over his lips and he nods, following you in.
Chilled by the harsh wind, the only thing on your mind is a hot drink as you lead Sunghoon to the kitchen. He shakes his head when you offer him one, sitting on the countertop and exhaling into his palms before rubbing them together. You can’t help but frown at the sight, feeling guilty that you can’t change the weather to suit him. At your thought process, your brows raise. Wow, you think. Is this who you are?
You busy yourself with the selection of hot drinks you and Chaewon have accumulated, eyeing each container from top to bottom. A purple tub of Cadbury’s hot chocolate that you’re sure is on the brink of expiration, coffee—sachets of the instant stuff you’ve grown to like since leaving home, Earl grey from one of many brands, or the fancy silk tea bags Chaewon’s mum brought home from a trip—rooibos or plum-apple-cinnamon.
Craving something sweet, you settle for hot chocolate, pulling the heavy container from the cupboard next to Sunghoon’s head and setting it beside your cup. He’s on his phone, scrolling too fast to take in anything he’s seeing and he shakes his head when you ask if he wants something to drink.
On the dish rack, Chaewon’s mug catches your eye, so you pick it up to dry it off and put it down next to yours. “I’m going to check if Wonie wants any,” you say, wiping imaginary crumbs from the counter onto the floor.
Sunghoon only clears his throat, shaking his head. “She’s not home, one of her acrylics popped off so she’s at the shop waiting for a cancellation.”
The information itself isn’t jarring but hearing it from Sunghoon is. You put on what you hope is a neutral smile and nod, taking milk from the fridge and assembling your drink on autopilot while thinking of ways to redirect the conversation.
“If you knew you’d have to go back to campus so soon, why’d you walk me home?” you ask, watching your cup spin in the microwave. “I could’ve walked on my own.”
Sunghoon is already looking at you when you turn your head, his cheeks puffed out with air as he blinks slowly. Because I love you, is what you hope he’ll say. You think you need him to say it.
“Because you don’t have to do anything on your own when you have me,” he says instead, and it’s infinitely better.
The words seep through your every fibre, his intonation and lucid affection making a home for themselves in your heart, spreading warmth from head to toe. Your smile becomes a radiant grin, only brightening when he shakes his head, smiling down at his feet.
Sunghoon hugs you in the kitchen when it’s time for him to leave, his arms holding you tight to his chest as he rocks you back and forth. You inhale his scent, all warm citrus under freshly washed cotton and something exclusive to him.
Wiping the smile from your face feels impossible. You don’t let go when he does, and a sweet laugh — a giggle, you think — tumbles out of him as he mumbles that he really has to go. Still, you cling onto him, taking clumsy steps backwards, with your arms locked around his waist, to your front door, smiling as you watch him put his shoes on.
“You don’t have to walk me downstairs, honestly,” he says, looking down at you in the doorway.
“I want to.”
His lips quirk up at the corners, a full smile breaking through and causing your stomach to flutter with so much force you’re sure it’s visible through your shirt. His eyes fall to your lips, lingering, before he clears his throat, looking away.
“I’ll text you when I get to the door, promise.”
You lock your pinky with his. “Send a selfie, just so I know it’s you and not someone else using your phone.”
Sunghoon’s head falls back in a laugh. “Should I just call you? That way you can make sure I get back to uni in one piece.”
You nod.
“That wasn’t anything with Chaewon earlier, I just needed advice on some girl stuff..” He trails off, searching your eyes. It’s obvious that he’s telling the truth, that he wants you to believe him. You do. “I wasn’t sure if that was something I could talk about with you.”
Girl stuff. Hmm. You try not to read too much into it and look at the bigger picture instead—your best friend is going through something and doesn’t feel like he can come to you about it.. You squeeze his pinky reassuringly, a flutter in your stomach when he smiles.
“You can talk to me about anything,” you say, meaning it.
Sunghoon presses his lips together, humming and unlinking your fingers. “Next time,” he says after a beat, waving at you.
You shut the door, locking it while watching through the peephole, he leaves as soon as the lock clicks shut. In the kitchen, your hot chocolate is cooling down, and your phone rings in your back pocket. Sunghoon’s calling.
Hanging out with Sunghoon. Making sure he sticks to the time-blocked schedule you made for him. Quizzing him on biology terms until he gets restless. If the last two weeks were an episode of Family Feud, those would be the top three answers to the question: Name something YN is doing right now.
Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one.
You’ve been sitting on the couch for so long, Jake has both left for football practice and arrived from football practice. Conversation ebbs and flows—an hour or so of nonstop talking, followed by another hour or so of comfortable near silence.
It’s during a quiet hour that Sunghoon sits up straight, clearing his throat before saying, “Let me ask you something. He retreats to the other side of the couch, turning to face you with his whole body. “I don’t want things to be weird after I ask, so no matter what your answer is, I won’t bring it up or ask again.”
Arching a curious brow, you nod. “You can ask me anything,” you say, meaning it.
Sunghoon’s face is impressively blank—minus the motion of sharp teeth worrying plush lip, there’s absolutely nothing behind his eyes that seem to stare right through you.
Eventually, he asks, “Can I kiss you?” He says more. Big, scary words like for closure and moving on, but they don’t register. They don’t matter.
Your heart pounds at the base of your throat as you find interest in your hands that sit in your lap. Even without looking at him, you can’t get over the slight crease he had in his brow and the slight tremor in his hands.
“For closure,” you repeat, though your voice doesn’t sound like it’s coming from you, muffled under the thump of your heart.
Sunghoon nods. “For closure.”
A humourless laugh sneaks past your throat as you look at him. You shouldn’t have. In the lamplight, Sunghoon is golden and glorious. Warm light casts one side of his face, diffusing gently over the steep slope of his nose, highlighting his moles and the look in his eyes, gentle and curious all at once. Unwillingly, your gaze falls to his lips, parted, tempting.
One firm nod of your head brings Sunghoon’s hand to your face, his palm cupping your cheek with soft skin as his thumb traces your cheekbone. You grow anxious under his stare, under the drag of his eyes over your features, taking them one at a time like he’s committing them to memory.
Leaning in, your eyes flutter shut as your lips meet his and he freezes, mouth completely still on yours. Delicately, your tongue traces the seam of his lips, soft and plump, until they part for you, moving with yours. Sunghoon’s kiss is unpolished when it reaches you. It’s hesitant but tender, clumsy but sweet, he’s trying and he’s perfect; your favourite.
The kiss is.. it’s everything. It’s the racing of your heart, the thudding, the vibrant buzz you can hear, feel humming against your ears. It’s a rush of blood to the head, a lightness all over that pulls you out of your body. It’s Sunghoon’s soft lips curving into a smile against yours, his gentle hold on your face never letting up as he holds you as close as he can manage, and it’s every bit as lovely as the rest of him.
Palpable is the heartbeat of your friendship, beating to a lull under the surface of the kiss, fizzling out into nothing, a steady silence, flatlining to give way to something more, something bigger.
Every brush of your lips against his is a revelation, a confession. You’re all I’ve ever wanted, you tell him with your kiss. You’re everything I need. His free hand finds yours, locking your fingers and squeezing, the action timed well enough to make you think he hears you, to make you think he’s saying, we’ll be okay, I still love you.
With that, he pulls away, a delicate tension piercing the air. Blown eyes and laboured breathing—he’s beautiful, fuzzy around the edges with warm orange and all of the love in your heart. Breathless, you chew on your lip, cognisant of Sunghoon’s hand in yours and the sparkle in his eyes as he looks at you.
Belatedly, you squeeze his hand back, smiling. “Was it everything you ever dreamed of?” you whisper, part teasing, all curious.
Abruptly, Sunghoon stands up, letting go of you in the process. “I have to go.”
You want to stop him, you think you’re supposed to. To grab him by the arm and kiss him again, to yell in his face that you love him until he understands. But you don’t. Instead, you stay seated, staring at Sunghoon’s back and following him with your eyes out of the room and down the hall until he’s out of sight.
It’s your first time being so upset after a kiss, and you can’t tell if it’s his leaving or the mention of him moving on that’s tripping you up so much. That’s causing melancholy to crawl from the shadows, sinking its jagged nails into your skin to pull you under.
You love him. He’s gone.
Eyes stuck on the doorway, time stretches over the room around you, thick and malleable, wet and cloying—clay stuck under your nails for days as the fire in the kiln rages on.
Sighing, you get up and wait at his door. You ball your hand into a limp fist, knocking weakly. Sunghoon doesn’t reply. You try again, harder. Still nothing.
Barging into the room, you find him sitting on the end of his bed with his face in his hands.
“Don’t move on.” The words come out before you realise and Sunghoon lifts his head, squinting at you.
“Huh?” He tilts his head, watching closely as you approach him, tipping it back enough to meet your eyes when you stand over him.
You take a breath, holding it until your head starts to spin. “I don’t want you to love someone else, Sunghoon. Please don’t move on.”
The stillness that follows is disconcerting, a long quiet you can feel on your skin, amplifying the blank stare on his face as he looks up at you. His eyes flash, a spark of hope behind them so bright it stings to look at.
“Do you..” He trails off, his lips moving to form the next word though stopping short.
“I do,” you whisper, nodding. “I’m sorry for taking so long.”
An exhaled laugh comes from his nose as he grins, shaking his head. “You like me?” he asks, excitement and disbelief fighting for authority over his voice, his hands holding your waist and pulling you down into his lap.
“I love you,” you admit, settling on his thighs.
“You do?” His eyes are wide and gleaming, searching every feature on your face before settling on your own.
You nod. “So much.”
Sunghoon’s chin tips up, his lips pressing against yours, excited pecks that can’t turn into much more for the smiles on your faces. You rest your arms on his shoulders, hands clasping behind his head, nervous fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“So.. will you be my boyfriend? For real?”
Tilting his head, he tries and fails to fight a smile. “I will. I’m a little bummed though.”
“Why?” You raise a brow, and the word tips up at the end with it.
“I wanted to be the one to ask you.” Sunghoon’s honesty warms the room, endearing you completely.
You grin, loving the heat spreading over your cheeks. “Ask me anyway.”
“Please can I be your boyfriend?”
In the weeks that followed, it became immediately clear that boyfriend Sunghoon operated on a pendulum swinging between sexual ferality and terror. He’d get distracted during study sessions at home, finding more interest in biting at your neck than stream-of-consciousness prose, but closed his eyes if a sex scene came on TV. He’d buck his hips against yours while making out but flinch at the sight of condoms in the store.
He wasn’t ready to have sex and didn’t know how to tell you, so you took matters into your own hands, asking if you could wait until after his results for resubmission came in, saying you didn’t want the distraction for either of you. Sunghoon agreed, pecking your cheek and holding you tight to his chest.
The only thing was that your lecturer hadn’t given him an exact date, so every morning, you held your phone in a vice grip waiting for Sunghoon to update you, and every morning, you got the same text: Nothing today, baby ☹️
This morning, you’re brushing your teeth when he texts you, in all caps: NO FUCKING WAY I GOT A 98 !!! LOOK !!!
When the picture comes through, it’s of him in the mirror and you choke on mouthwash at the sight. He’s smiling, bright and beautiful, in a black vest that he’s holding up a little to show his stomach, though his palm is in the way of his toned abs, and it cuts off right at the top of his grey sweatpants.
Your mouth goes dry as you click on it, fixating on every little detail you can find: the thickness of his fingers against his phone, the dip in his collarbones, the breadth of his shoulders and the cinch of his waist. In a fit of desperation, you try swiping at the bottom of your screen, willing the picture to magically extend. It doesn’t.
hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?
you: mm..
you: 98??? HOLY SHIT, LOOK AT YOU!!!
hoonie: All you.. do you like the picture?
you: i love it………….
hoonie: My girl 🤍
Another picture comes in, and sure enough, through the glare of his laptop screen, you see: Course name: The Modernist Movement: Joyce, Woolf, and Hemingway. Marks Awarded: 98.0.
you: well done baby !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
hoonie: Thx 😁
hoonie: Can I have my prize now ha ha .. haha 😈
you: just for that emoji, no you absolutely cannot.
Your resolve isn’t strong enough when it comes to Sunghoon, because purple devil emoji and all, you show up at his door with condoms in your bag and a bouquet of lilies behind your back.
The door creaks open and Sunghoon greets you with a grin. “Hey, gorgeous. You proud of me?”
You beam at him, holding out the flowers. “I’m very proud, Hoon, well done.”
“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” he starts, taking the bouquet from your hands and sniffing the flowers with an approving smile. “But hearing you say you’re proud of me is awakening something I didn’t know existed.”
“A good something?”
“Mm,” he hums, arms finding your waist before he pecks your lips. “A very good something.”
Sunghoon’s words hit your lips and your core, a desperate heat flooding your stomach as he kisses you deeply, his body pressed tightly against yours while he pulls you into his apartment. He kicks the door shut with his foot, slipping his hand under your jacket to settle in your back pocket, not quite squeezing but holding your ass as gently as he can manage.
He breaks away from you, love in his eyes as he stares down into yours, catching his breath. “I don’t think we own a vase.”
In his kitchen, you rifle through cupboards to find something to hold the flowers, eventually finding a whiskey decanter in the cupboard under the sink, and holding it up for Sunghoon to see.
“Oh, yeah,” he says. “It’s Jay’s. It’ll work right?”
You nod, taking it to the sink to rinse it. Sunghoon wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder watching you fill the decanter with water and flower food before grabbing the bouquet. He presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck and you struggle to stay focused as you cut down the stems on the flowers, arranging them neatly.
“Can I take a photo?” he asks when you’re done.
He’s smiling when you turn around to look at him, a soft curve of his lips that makes your heart race, a deep tenderness in his eyes when you meet them. You smile too.
“They’re yours, baby, do whatever you want.”
“A photo of you with the flowers,” he clarifies.
Warmth settles in your chest, a grin spreading over your lips from ear to ear. You nod, taking the decanter in your hands when he lets go of you, holding the flowers up beside your face and smiling for his camera. As his phone shutter clicks away, you steal glances at his face behind it. He’s watching the screen with a smile, telling you how beautiful you are.
“I want pictures of you too,” you say, handing the flowers over.
“I’m yours, baby, do whatever you want.”
Sunghoon poses for your photos, smiling sweetly in some and sniffing the bouquet appreciatively with closed eyes for others. He’s glowing and he’s beautiful and your heart triples in size while taking picture after picture until your phone tells you it has ten percent.
“Thank you, YN,” he says. “I’ve never gotten flowers before, I love them.” His arms settle around your waist, lips pressing against yours before you have the chance to respond.
You try anyway, mumbling against his lips that you love him. In response, Sunghoon grins, but the feeling of his cock growing hard against you is distracting, a lust-coated thorn in the side of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach. With locked lips and uncertain steps, the two of you bump into corners and trip over your own feet, stumbling to his room and parting only to tear his hoodie over his head.
Breathless, you pull away, eyes trailing over him and picking up on everything, from the tremble in his hands to the lust-addled worry in his eyes. He’s nervous, you think—though it escapes you, the last word coming out like a question.
Sunghoon scoffs, his hands resting on your waist under your shirt, skin clammy against yours. “Of course, I’m nervous.”
“You don’t have to be.”
“I just want to be good for you.”
“Don’t worry about that, let me take care of you, Hoon.” Your palms drag up his torso — firm abs through soft cotton, defined chest over racing heart — to rest on his shoulders. “Sit,” you say when he nods.
He gulps, taking a seat on the end of his bed under your gentle push, eyes widening when you sink to your knees between his legs and reach for his drawstring, pulling the ends to untie the knot.
“Wait,” Sunghoon says, breathless, scrunching up his face and dropping his head. “Let me calm down, baby. At this rate, I’ll come just seeing your hand on it.”
You giggle, resting your head on his thigh and wrapping the drawstring around your finger.
“I’m serious, YN,” he mumbles, laughing as he takes his vest off. “I need a minute.”
Sunghoon’s eyes are pressed shut as he tries to collect himself, lips pouty and kiss-bitten, slightly parted with ragged breaths slipping out. You wait patiently for him. He’s so pretty like this, with the crease in his brow and the pretty pink flush dusting his cheeks as his chest rises and falls. You can’t help but smile, leaning into his touch when his hand rests on top of your head, his blunt nails grazing your scalp. After a while, he seems more at ease, his eyes finding yours and he smiles shyly, telling you he’s ready now and lifting his hips from the bed to let you pull his sweats and underwear down.
Free from the constraints of fabric, his cock slaps his stomach with a wet sound as the tip meets his skin, leaving a pearlescent streak over his abs. The sight makes your mouth water and you can’t look away. “Pretty,” you whisper.
Wrapping a hand under his tip, you swipe it with your thumb, taking time to memorise the flutter of his eyelids, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple, and the soft sigh he lets out. You stroke him slowly, liking the way his breath picks up as his brows knit together before you take him in your mouth. It’s a tight fit but you do your best, spurred on by the way he tugs at your hair and stutters through a holy fuck as you take as much of him as you can.
Sunghoon goes silent, only squirming when you use your hand to stroke him near his base. Self-conscious about his lack of vocal affirmation, you look up at him through your lashes, and the pure bliss on his face is unbearably attractive. His eyes are rolled back under furrowed brows, his mouth hanging open as he throws his head back.
“Am I doing okay?” you ask, using the moment to catch your breath.
He nods, inhaling shakily and screwing his eyes shut while his hips buck up into your fist. “I’m.. You’re doing such a good job, baby, so good.”
Satisfaction courses through you from the praise, a high that dulls the ache in your jaw. Still watching him, you massage his balls in your palm, pressing open-mouthed kisses to his tip when he whines. You tongue at his slit until he thrusts back into your mouth, tip hitting your throat, and he gasps when you gag, his arm coming up to cover his eyes. A belated apology slips from his lips, mumbled as he strokes your hair with a shaking hand and goes quiet again. When you speed up, his breath stutters, the muscles in his thighs contracting around your head as you suck and lick and drool on his cock.
A moan of your name, and his hand holding your hand down, are the only warnings you get before Sunghoon comes, spilling his load right down your throat. Whining, his hips buck up against your face, pushing further and further until he falls back onto the mattress.
Your throat is hoarse and aches while you use the back of your hand to wipe at your lips, enjoying what’s left of his taste on your tongue. Deep red tints his neck and chest, a pretty flush gleaming under the sheen of sweat on his skin. He’s mesmerising, as he tries for air through swollen lips and looks up at you through squinted eyes. He reaches for you, cute grabby hands tugging your shirt and pulling you down so you’re lying next to him with your head on his chest.
“You’re amazing, baby, so good for me,” Sunghoon whispers, eyes fluttering shut as you drag your nails over his torso, feeling the subtle heave of the slick, sculpted muscle over his stomach and chest.
Pride heats your chest, satisfaction rolling over you like a wave. “Really?”
He hums in affirmation, nodding his head.
“You were so quiet, I couldn’t really tell,” you add, hungry for more praise.
“The walls are so thin in here, I just got used to being quiet,” Sunghoon says, frowning. Hand meeting your chin, he tips your head up towards him, pressing a soft kiss to your lips and mumbling, “I’m sorry. You were perfect, I swear.”
It’s a sweet kiss. Until lips move harder and hands get lower, desperate as he thumbs the top of your leggings, palm unmoving but a dangerous heat blooms in your stomach anyway.
“Can I..” Sunghoon pinches you softly through the material, unsure eyes boring deep into yours.
You nod. “You can.”
Slipping under your waistband, his fingers skate across your skin dipping between your thighs. He grazes your slit, satisfaction clear in the groan he lets out as he feels the wetness there, pulling it over the length of your slit to cover your clit. Your breath hitches, a strangled gasp, pleasure and surprise meeting in your throat under the pressure of his thumb on your clit, the gentle sting of his finger pushing into you.
What Sunghoon lacks in experience, he makes up for with the sheer length and thickness of his fingers. It’s almost jarring, it’s enough to force your eyes closed and bring a sigh rumbling out of you, ache and relief settling between your legs, where he curls a finger against your walls and drags slow circles over your clit.
“Can you take these off, baby?” he asks, hand away to touch your leggings.
You don’t waste a second, sitting up to pull them off, throwing them and your underwear across the room. Sunghoon licks his lips, tugging at the hem of your shirt.
“And this? If you want..”
You nod, pulling it off immediately to let it join the rest of your clothes in a heap on the floor. The way he gulps is a confidence boost, his dilated pupils taking in every inch of your body, though his gaze always pulls back to your bra—white and lacy, thin enough for your nipples to push through the fabric and Sunghoon can’t seem to get enough, though he waits until you’re lying down again to touch you.
Sunghoon props himself up on his elbow, leaning over you. “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, dragging a finger over the lace at the top of your bra, toying with the material and the little bow sitting between your breasts. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “So beautiful,” he repeats.
Hiding your face in his chest, you mumble, “Thank you,” into his skin while trying to ignore the heat spreading over your body wherever he touches you. His hand trails from your arm to your waist, resting on your hips to slip over your ass for a beat, where he grabs and squeezes the flesh there before coming back around to slot between your legs—you lift one of them, resting it over his body, and he’s smiling sweetly when you look up at him.
Sunghoon’s movements are unchanging, though the sensation is heightened by the unbridled desire in his lidded eyes that urges white heat to lick over every inch of your skin—this time he pushes two fingers into you.
It doesn’t get better than this, you think. But it does, quickly.
Leaning over you, his eyes flick across your face, one feature at a time as he chews on his lip. Reaching up, you push some of his hair from his face, holding it back and saying, “Relax, baby.”
“Don’t want to hurt you.”
Moving your hand, you blink when his hair flops back over his forehead, tickling your eyelashes. His eyes are focused now, staring straight down into yours, want and worry flashing behind them.
“You won’t, I promise,” you say, locking your pinky with his, feeling relieved when he smiles.
Sunghoon pushes in slowly, his name slipping from your lips when he exhales shakily, head falling forward. The sting, the pleasure, make it hard to breathe, molten desire taking hold of your lungs as he carves out a place for himself as far as you’ll take him, all the way to the hilt as slow as he can manage.
A moan tears out of him, lewd and whiny as his hair tickles your collarbone, head falling into the crook of your neck. His skin is hot and damp against yours, his breath burning your shoulder as he tries to calm down. It’s difficult to register much else, tethered only by the sound of his voice when he asks, “Am I hurting you?”
“Hoon,” you whisper.
“Can you look at me, baby?” He lifts his head, resting a hand on your cheek. You blink your eyes open, gaze locking with his, where concern pushes through his desire. “Am I hurting you?” he asks again. “Are you okay?”
You nod. “I’m okay, just..” You sigh. “Full. Need a minute.”
Sunghoon kisses you, lips moving gently with yours, passing breathy whines between your mouths until you feel yourself relaxing. Pulling his plush bottom lip between yours, you suck on it, nodding. “Want you to move, baby,” you mumble.
He scans your face, eyes meeting yours as he pulls his hips back. He’s slow, so slow with his thrusts that your belly turns with want, your fingernails sink into the taut skin of his back, and jagged sobs fall out of you with each drag of his cock along your walls.
Everywhere his skin touches yours is set ablaze with scorching heat, goosebumps pushing past the surface as his breath fans your neck and his sharp teeth graze your skin. He bites hard enough to sting, and you wince as his tongue flicks over your bitten flesh to soothe you.
You were so worked up earlier, writhing against the sheets and coming undone in his palm, so bliss quickly pushes through the ache between your legs. “Good, Hoon, feels so good,” you manage, struggling to convey how perfect it is.
“Just want to make you feel good.” His words melt into each other, vowels soft and elongated as they curl around each other. He’s working up a steady rhythm, his tip consistently nudging you where you need it—the spot that makes the room blur around you. “That’s all I want.”
Before long, the knot in your stomach pulls you up from the mattress, arching your back towards the ceiling. Mouth to mouth, chest to chest—it’s the closest you’ve ever felt to someone else, the closest you’ve ever been. The thought alone knocks the wind out of you, and his persistent whining does nothing to help.
Your want and adoration for Sunghoon run bone-deep, inching up your spine and creeping over your shoulders, intertwined with an all-consuming pleasure that turns the heat in your stomach molten as a shudder zips through you. Even though you can’t find the words to let him know, he lifts your hips from the bed to fuck you deeper, harder, into the mattress until shaky orgasms pull both of you under.
You let him fall into you, fingers curling around his hair, whispering I love you into the skin of his neck as he comes, most of his weight on top of you while you catch your breath, relishing in the fullness you feel as the last waves of your high pull back. You stay like this for as long as he needs, his head coming up from the crook of your neck to smile at you before pressing his lips to yours. A sleepy haze fills the room around you, tongue swiping tongue as you giggle happily into his mouth.
After a while, he gets up, tying the condom to throw it away and comes back with his shirt. He uses it to clean up—gentle between your legs, pressing kisses to your calves while he does. Sunghoon’s tenderness wraps around your heart, and love clouds your vision, forming a blurry trail that follows all of his movements, glowing like something from a dream, ethereal, an apparition.
The bed dips beside you, his arms around you, pulling you in so his chin rests on your head. You push your cheek into his chest, hoping the two of you will meld into one—the thought makes you warm all over, a fuzziness that reaches every part of your body while he presses kisses into your hair, rubbing your back.
“I love you,” he says, voice as soft as the rest of him. “I’m glad I exist.”
mama park: Hi lovely 😍 missing you lots, wondering when you’ll be home for Xmas………..love ma
Sunghoon stirs, nose scrunching as he snores softly into the quiet of a winter morning. His chest rises and falls steadily under your head and he doesn’t move when you sit up. The lamp on his desk is still on — neither of you could be bothered getting up to turn it off last night — and under its dim glow, you admire him. Perfect lips gently curved—long lashes kissing the skin under his eyes.
Love hits you from all angles, warmth all over from head to toe despite the chill in Sunghoon’s room. You can’t help but grin, leaning up to nose along the underside of his chin, his natural scent so soft yet dizzying as you nuzzle into him. He stirs again, turning his head this way and that before resting, you feel a bit bad, deciding to leave him be and text his mum back.
you: hi mum !!! missing you sooooooo much :((( will be home asap
mama park: BTW Sunghoon told me everything. I raised such good actors LOL make sure he looks after you and keeps you happy!
you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..
you: but i’m really happy with him and he loves me a lot
you: i love him so much .. never been so sure of anyone in my life
© zreamy (2023), all rights reserved. do not repost, translate, or plagiarise my work. do let my know your thoughts !
permanent taglist: @asahicore
#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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Can I request Wade and Logan/reader breeding kink? 👉👈 both of them too excited about it and competitive? (Can you make reader gender neutral (he/him or they/them or trans ftm (he/him), you can use any terms for genitals and stuff it's ok)
into it (Logan x Reader x Wade)
Reader: he/him (ftm)
/NSFW Logan x Reader x Wade/
A/N: Fuuck I had so much fun writing this, anon! It's a bit short but it's pure porn so I hope you still end up satisfied lol (also sorry about the random gif, I couldn't find a more suiting one lmao). Anyway, hope you like it! xoxo
Tags: ftm reader (reader has a vagina), breeding kink, creampie, they both fuck you, Wade being a fucking joke, Logan is not having it, piv sex (unprotected), porn without plot.
Word Count: 908
—
As soon as you walked through the front door, they were all up in your personal space. Wade and Logan promptly started to take your clothes off, not exactly caring about being gentle.
"Boys! Calm down, there's plenty of me for the both of you!" You tried appeasing, but to no avail.
"And yet is nearly not enough." Groaned Logan, ripping your underwear off with his bare hands. You gasped as his fingers immediately found your sex, rubbing your clit while Wade kissed your neck.
"Sorry about that, doll. We'll buy you another one." Wade whispered into your ear, taking you by the hand and convincing Logan to continue things in the bedroom.
You were basically thrown onto the bed, naked and vulnerable and super turned on. You could already see their hard bulges before they started to take their own clothes off.
"On all fours for us." Ordered Logan, and you gladly obliged. "Attaboy..."
After all their clothes were out, Logan started positioning himself behind you until you heard Wade complain.
"Wait a minute, mutton chops! Why do you think you get to go first?" Wade pointed out.
"Because I can and I will." Logan retorted impatiently, giving your ass a light squeeze.
"Nuh-uh! That ain't fair! I propose a rock-paper-scissors to sort things out, nothing fairer than that." Said Wade holding a closed fist out.
"Fucking hell, fine!" Logan agreed and quickly started the game. They finished the round and Logan played scissors, while Wade played paper.
"Best out of three?" Begged Wade, but the other man didn't care for it.
"Fuck off." Logan pushed Wade aside and started positioning himself again, putting the tip of his cock at your entrance.
You were really wet, so it didn't hurt when he slammed into you. You were full, stuffed to the brim, and you thought it couldn't get any better than that... until Logan began thrusting into you, hitting a sweet spot inside that made you cry out in pleasure.
"Let us hear those sweet sounds you make, boy." Logan said while fucking you. He breathed loudly, grunting and grabbing you at the hips with enough force to bruise. The sounds you made together were obscene, and that turned Wade on even more.
"Gosh... fuck him silly, Wolvie." Wade was jacking himself off, looking closely at Logan's dick in and out of you. "Cum inside him..."
Logan groaned again, more urgent than before. A sudden thought took over him, and he needed to let it out. "I'm gonna breed you, (y/n). I'm gonna fill you up so good... fuck, fill you up with my seed."
"Goddamn!" Said a surprised Wade, not expecting the other man to be so earnest. "That's so fucking dirty... I love it."
"Ah, yes! Please..." You moaned, feeling energy and heat through your whole body. You were being used by him, your body only an object... it turned you on so damn much.
Logan's thrusts began to get even more rough, he was fucking you hard and the sounds he made were animalistic. Soon he turned erratic, his hips faltering in the rhythm he had set. You knew he was close.
He came with a loud grunt, holding you for dear life. Breathing deeply through his gritted teeth, Logan recovered and slowly took his member out of you. A bit of cum dripped from your entrance, and Wade observed everything with a delighted expression.
"I bet I can cum even more in his pussy..." He whispered mostly to himself, but you both heard him.
"You wanna bet, bub?" Said Logan with a satisfied smile on his face. What doesn't a good fuck does to one man's humor?
"Hell yeah, peanut." Wade soon replaced the other man's position and unlike Logan, asked for your approval. "You alright, gorgeous?"
"Y-Yeah... please, give it to me." You moaned as you felt his cock entering you, stuffing you up again.
Wade was a bit gentler with his hands, grabbing you thoughtfully at the places you weren't bruised. But his rhythm... he was still a beast.
"Fuuuck, you feel so good, pretty boy." He moaned, not stopping for a second.
"Hmm, Wade... Logan... ah!" You couldn't stop making noises and calling out for them, dumb with the feeling of being full.
"Good job, sugar... you're being so good for us." Said Logan while standing beside you, watching as Wade pounded into you with great enthusiasm.
"Shit, I'm close... I'll cum inside your pretty cunt, (y/n)." Wade gripped you even harder and finally slammed his hips into you, his climax followed by a deep moan.
He took a few breaths and slowly came back to earth, removing himself from you with a pop. Even more cum oozed from inside you, a beautiful and sexy sight for the both of them.
"As my partner here mentioned earlier... consider yourself 'bred'." Wade taunted, giving a final slap on your ass and retreating himself to put an arm over Logan's shoulder. "Sooo... about that bet, what is my prize?"
You laughed as you laid on your back to watch them both, exhausted but completely satisfied.
Logan suddenly grabbed Wade by his balls, looking him in the eyes. "You get to keep all of your blood inside your body today, sounds good?"
Wade responded in a higher octave, nodding his head and still holding Logan's shoulders. "Ouchie! So rough!" Logan let him go, but Wade only got closer. "You're lucky I'm into it."
—
#wolverine x reader x deadpool#logan x reader x wade#logan howlett x reader#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x wolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine x reader#deadpool x reader#marvel#fanfic#fanfiction#imagine#headcanon#self insert#y/n#ftm reader#male reader#deadpool#wolverine#deadclaws#poolverine#request#notyourhetloki
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fifth wheel • ln4 part 2 ੈ✩‧₊˚
ੈ✩‧₊˚ pairing || lando norris x reader
ੈ✩‧₊˚ genre || social media au
ੈ✩‧₊˚ summary || y/n is always fifth wheeling george, carmen, alex, and lily.
ੈ✩‧₊˚ a/n || hope you guys enjoy part 2! part 3 will be out soon as well ;)
part 1 part 3
liked by lissiemackintosh, landonorris, and 79,420 others
yourusername 🐚🌊🌅
username1 summer break y/n is slaying
username2 she tagged along george and carmen’s trip 😭😭 they really can’t get rid of her
carmenmmundt 😍😍
⤷ yourusername i love u
georgerussell63 stop stealing my girlfriend
⤷ yourusername never!
georgerussell63 also come downstairs, me and carmen have been waiting for half an hour! how are u not ready yet???
⤷ yourusername patience is a virtue georgie
⤷ landonorris that’s code for 2 more hours georgie
username2 omg lando y/n interaction. he’s defs w them rn!
lilymhe missing youse 😓
⤷ alex_albon am i not enough?
⤷ yourusername u cant compare to me and carmen alex don’t be silly
⤷ alex_albon oh ofc my bad
username3 ig lando and y/n really aren’t together
⤷ username4 what? what makes u say that?
⤷ username3 look at his recent
liked by lilymhe, redbullracing, and 755,565 others
landonorris waves and friends 🤙
redbullracing that jet-ski looks familiar 👀
username5 omg lando in the red bull life vest
username6 OMG the girls hands in the second pic??? y/n????
⤷ username7 it’s not her
⤷ username6 how do u know?
⤷ username7 she’s not in thai land. she’s in spain w carmen and george, lando is in thai land obv w lily and alex and a few of their other friends.
⤷ username8 or maybe it’s just lily lol
lilymhe cowabunga dudeee 😮💨
⤷ yourusername omg lily stop this.
⤷ landonorris yeah what she said 😟
f1wags lando spotted w mystery girl in corsica
username13 kinda looks like y/n…
⤷ username14 i wishhhh but y/n is w george and carmen in ibiza now i’m pretty sure
⤷ username15 nah i’m convinced that this is y/n (i’m delusional)
username16 how do we manage to get all these pics but not one that has an identifiable face
⤷ username17 maybe it’s for the better. he doesn’t owe us anything, we should respect their privacy.
username4 wasn’t he just in thai land?
landonorris
liked by carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 543,980 others
landonorris summer lovin’
username18 he’s gone girls 🫠
username19 this looks a lot like y/n just saying
⤷ username20 u guys need to get over this. she’s literally in ibiza. he is not.
maxfewtrell down so bad
⤷ landonorris u would be too
yourusername cute congrats
⤷ landonorris cheers mate.
⤷ username21 damn we were really off, they really are just mates
⤷ username22 idk sounds kinda bitter to me 🫣
alex_albon you have definitely never watched grease
⤷ landonorris how does this have anything to do w grease??
⤷ alex_albon yeah i’m not even surprised
mclaren 👀👀
⤷ username23 admin what do u know?!
username24 lando norris soft launching?? never though i’d see the day
riabish ahhh so cute
liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 92,403 others
yourusername happened so fast
⟟ ibiza, spain
tagged carmenmmundt, georgerussell63, danielricciardo, heidiberger_
heidiberger_ fave gal 🤍
⤷ yourusername miss u already babe 💘
⤷ danielricciardo what bout me
⤷ yourusername free enchante beach club 🧐🧐
⤷ danielricciardo hmmmmm
⤷ enchante we’ll see what we can do yourusername 😉
⤷ yourusername thanku for coming in clutch admin!
username25 she couldn’t third wheel lily and alex so she decided to find daniel and heidi LMFAO
⤷ username26 don’t think she’s third wheeling anymore… 🫣😟
username26 DONT THINK WE DONT SEE THAT LAST PIC Y/N
username27 y/n soft launching. what is happening?
username28 i’m still convinced that it’s lando
⤷ username29 she literally tagged ibiza, i don’t think she can make it anymore clear. they’re in two diff countries 😐
landonorris cute 👍
⤷ yourusername thanks dude
⤷ username30 yeah they were def talking and then fucked it up and are both bitter abt it
⤷ username28 yeah ok ig it’s not lando
liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc, and 142,309 others
yourusername mems under the sun
username32 slayed the summer dump
carmenmmundt best vacay w the best people
⤷ yourusername 😘😘
username33 when are we gonna find out who the man is?!
landonorris nice
⤷ yourusername 👍👍
username34 jesus christ what is going on lando and y/n
alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest 🤍
⤷ yourusername miss u 💘💘
alex_albon you know how to swim??
⤷ yourusername cant wait to swap ur hair dye when u least expect it albono
liked by danielricciardo, jackdoohan, and 450,981 others
landonorris almost at the end
tagged alex_albon, lilymhe, georgerussell63, yourusername
username34 OMG HE TAGGED Y/N THEY ARE DATING
⤷ landonorris we played paintball, she’s in the first pic.
alex_albon why’d u make it sound so dramatic “almost at the end”
⤷ username35 alex is nothing if not a hater
username36 what i would do to play paintball w lando, alex, george, lily, and y/n
carmenmmundt oh.
⤷ landonorris carmen…
⤷ carmenmmundt ig u and ur gf have more in common then i thought 😐😒
⤷ username37 what does this mean…?
⤷ username38 if i speak 🤐
username39 i fear we need to stop being delulu… he basically said it’s not her in the last pic and she didn’t even like or comment
liked by lance_stroll, arthur_leclerc, and 98,431 others
yourusername twas’ a perfect summa
username37 holy shit
username38 that dress looks familiar…
⤷ yourusername yeah me and every other bitch own it 🤷♀️
⤷ username39 i have never seen someone deny and squash rumours as quickly as lando and y/n have been doing
⤷ username38 y/n calling lando’s gf every other btich 😭 she’s so messy
alex_albon food that isn’t breakfast… in bed. freak!
⤷ yourusername okay freak.
username39 time to accept that y/n is no longer the designated third wheel and it’s not bc she’s w lando 🫠
francisca_cgomes sexy 💞💞
⤷ yourusername loverrrrr
lilymhe wonder why 🫣
⤷ carmenmmundt hmmmm i wonder…
part 3 here!
#lando norris x reader#lando x reader#lando norris#formula 1#alex albon#george russell#lily muni he#carmen montero mundt#social media au#mclaren#ln4 imagine#ln4#ln4 x reader
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Imagine a horribly clumsy creator in the sagau... like trips over their own feet, starts coughing due to choking on air randomly, knocking a vase off a table that was in the middle of the table somehow???? Silly goofy stuff like that (I pull these silly goofs often personally)
(obv goes w/o saying sorry for being so late to reply /gen) ;-;
clumsy reader is so me core idk why i didnt think of this lmao
(this gif is liek the modern equivalent of Charlotte posting ur embarrassing clumsy moments on insta Steambird acc lmao)
(so sometimes im lazy and dont include the ask stuff esp if its shorter like this, so here's at least the characters in this one: Fontaine ppl <3 along with a G for general audience, barring cuss words)
Navia would politely ask you to go the edge or whatever area ur in whenever she pulls out her cannons/guns LMAO
every time you and either Clorinde or Neuvillette are walking next to you, or doing rlly anything, its like night and day
ur out here finding all the cracks in the sidewalk, bumping everything that could even possibly have a liquid in it, and have constant bruises from hip checking/stubbing toes on mechas walking around
Clorinde is impressed at that point bc mechas are actively programmed to get out of your way, so how u managed to put them back into ur way rlly fascinates her 😭😭
Neuvillette would like to wrap u in fabric/bubble wrap equivalent for his old ass, in an attempt to desperately stop u from hurting urself lol
u get a new coat or new pants from him all the time, u just thought at first he was rlly into giving u Fontaine fashion until Furina pointed out that it was spring/summer and you wouldn't wear thick woolen pants and fur-lined coats everyday 💀
(poor dragon guy doesn't rlly get the practical side of clothes, he likes fashion, but he inadvertently subscribes to the "hoes don't get cold" philosophy by being an ancient dragon lord)
Wriothesley is unfortunately nice enough to constantly try and catch his poor god, which ends well for neither of you 50% of the time
its not even ur weight takes him down, he's buff as hell after all, and he's dealt with rowdy inmates, its just.. ur clumsiness spreads.
if ur tripping, and the poor Duke reaches out to catch you, ur reaching out at the same time to steady urself on a side table w/a vase full of water, which u then knock off, drenching ur back and his face at the same time LMAO
he doesn't learn, despite u literally begging him to stop trying to help u, then u try and compromise to just let u fall and help u afterward asdfghkl-
Wrio's too chivalrous tho, the most u can get him to do is always grab ur arm instead of trying to bodily catch you
if u think after the first like, ✌️ TWO times Lynette is willing to help you, u r so wrong lmao
she's seen her brothers clumsiness, she knows theres no saving u
she does comfort u after slipping (not even falling but just flailing dramatically) for the 5th time in the puddles around water fountains tho
Lyney and Freminet are lowkey legit convinced someones cursed their god atp 😰
Freminet always had bandaids for u, and Lyney keeps a supply of ur fav candy to cheer u up after embarrassing urself by falling ass backwards right into the Fountain of Lucine right in front of Opera house lmao
...
...Charlotte thinks this is all vv hilarious, no she has no respect for ur godliness, her archon was Furina like LMAO- IM SORRYYY
(she has started a small section in the steambird of a near daily- DAILY picture of u being clumsy 😭)
(u, not srsly, threaten to smite her and she just giggles)
(its ok they take it all in a cute/endearing trait type of way)
☆
again, sorry for lateness, when i reopen askbox (soon, FINALLY-)
ill try and stay more on top of it and try and sort whatre just chats/non-requests better too 😭😭
hope u guys are having a good week!! tysm for being patient and nice to me :')
Safe Travels Kai,
💀♒
If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily / @justinsomniachild / @nanithefuck / @questionotmystopit / @chinuneko / @silvers-tongue
@kiyomi-uchiha777
<3
#genshin sagau#sagau#genshin isekai#my asks#aqua asks#genshin impact sagau#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#gender neutral reader#oh tags#my beloathed#idk anymore to put pls just take this#anyway u think sigwienne would do that blunt child thing where they kinda read you to filth#bc i do#i rlly do#and i think this is one teyvat god reader that would not handle it well 😭
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Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 365!
1 year! One whole year of daily doodles!!
Honestly?? Idk how to feel, so much has happened since I first started this blog.
I guess I’ll just write what I’m thinking right now??
(Everything under the cut, this thing is longer than I expected)
A lot of this text probably isn’t going to make sense. I’m writing this at 1 am. If there’s any mistakes or errors that’s why. I’ll fix them in the morning maybe.
So like. This whole thing kinda started as a joke, I wasn’t intending to actually draw for a year straight lmao. Like I even used a completely different art style from my regular one that was simple, quick and intentionally dumb. Not that I’m upset by it, I’m actually quite proud of myself that I managed to stick to something for an entire year. That’s pretty unusual for me believe it or not. My original intention was to stop at maybe 20 days because I really wasn’t expecting for this blog to get as much love as it did.
So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so so much to everyone who has followed and supported this silly little idea I had, you guys are the biggest reason my experience has been so positive and worth it. (Sure it’s not original but I hope it’s at least been interesting!)
I’ve said this a few times now but I’ve mentioned wanting to take a break. I’ll admit that even though it’s been fun it’s still pretty tiring to keep up with this blog sometimes since some recent life events have made it so hard. After some thought, I’ve decided that I’ll likely take a break sometime in the coming months. Maybe toward day 400 or so. As of right now, things are at a lull so I’ve been okay enough mentally and physically to keep up this daily streak I think. Though this could change in an instant for whatever reason.
Overall I think my burnout has kind of gone away I think?? Or at least I’ve been reinvigorated recently after replaying a few runs of hk randomizer and steel soul. No promises it’ll stay away but I silly expect it to come in waves.
Ok but call me crazy or delusional or whatever, but my hopes are up that Silksong will release this year. (which means slowing down/not doing daily doodles yay) I genuinely believe big news is coming since I’ve been getting a lot of dreams lately about something happening with Silksong in March. Idk, I could be wrong but after doing this for a year I’m literally clinging onto anything right now lol
I’d obviously still make the occasional doodle or two when HKSS releases but not daily. This stuff is tough to keep up sometimes, I would never do daily posts like this again once it’s over
Oh yeah also I have an actual big drawing I’m still working on, expect that in sometime in the next few weeks I think!
Anyway, I can’t think of anything else to say right now so I guess that’s it for now!
Thanks so much and here’s to more doodles!
#silksongeveryday#ssed#hollow knight#silksong#hk hornet#hollow knight hornet#silksong hornet#hollow knight fanart#hk fanart
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♡ ROMEO & CINDERELLA.
❝ hey, pretty stranger, i think you look cute! can i get your number? i wanna know you. // cute encounters with genshin guys on the bus. ❞
✧ feat ; childe, heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; childe’s can be viewed as platonic ✧ a/n ; so i think the bus at my university is like. a meet-cute spot for me or something HAHAHA here are a couple of drabbles based on my irl experiences <3 ! shout out to my one irl that has to listen to me being delusional all the time LOL ur a real one (she’s never going to see this). also the title has no relation to the fic at all sorry i just could not think of a title for the life of me so i just went with a random vocaloid song JDSJDJS ok bye i hope u enjoy this!!
please reblog w tags + leave comments ! it rlly makes my day :)
✦ CHILDE. [ tartaglia ]
“childe? is that you?” you grin, leaning over the back of your seat as you realise who’s sitting behind you, “i didn’t know you take the bus back too!” his face cracks into a wide beam upon noticing you, “y/n! hi! i do sometimes when i’m too tired to walk.” and just like that, the two of you start talking excitedly – you’re classmates, though you aren’t too close you both still consider each other friends, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to instead of staring out the window at the rain with your earphones plugged in to pretend you’re in a music video.
somehow, the conversation turns to birthdays, and as childe asks when yours is, you smirk, “it’s today!” you swear his blue eyes open so big you’re worried they might just tumble out of his head as he gasps, “what?! today?! so you’re turning a year older today?!” “yeah!” you nod, giggling at his exaggerated reaction. “nah, you’ve got to come here so i can wish you properly,” he shakes his head seriously, and you tilt your head in confusion, “there’s someone sitting beside you already though…”
you shouldn’t have doubted the one and only tartaglia for even a moment, because the next second, he turns to the man beside him with zero hesitation and gives them the most blinding persuasive smile ever, “hey! would you mind switching seats with my friend over there? it’s their birthday, and i really want to wish them!” “childe!” you scold, heat rushing to your face at his casual confession to this total stranger, “stop disturbing random people!” “but it’s your birthday!” he replies innocently, ocean eyes gleaming aquamarine. the man beside him seems a little confused by childe’s demeanour, but he’s probably more scared of what his reaction would be if he said no, so he nods, “sure, i guess…” and as the bus rattles along its familiar route, you switch places with the stranger, profuse thanks spilling from your lips before you fix childe with a scolding gaze.
“hey, it worked!” he raises his hands in surrender, only to quickly grasp yours and shake it heartily, “happy birthday, comrade!” you laugh, shaking your head, “you’re so silly. thank you, childe.” you both hide your chuckles as you joke about the poor guy that had to switch with you, and you tease and banter with each other all the way to the train station.
✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]
it has been a long day. not necessarily bad, but one of those days where the universe seems to be conspiring against you to make every small thing go wrong enough to get on your nerves. right now, you’re at your wits end as you stumble onto the bus, sending the bus driver a sheepish smile when your card only buzzes on the third tap. your eyes scan the interior – almost all of the seats are occupied, and your friend has skipped ahead to sit with someone else she knows.
but your gaze stops short on a maroon-haired guy looking out the window, and with an internal cheer you realise that the seat next to him is empty and quickly slide into it. now that you’re closer, you notice that he’s actually quite handsome; all fluffy maroon hair and forest green eyes with a few moles dotted across his pale skin. you’re so busy staring that you don’t realise he’s trying to tell you something until he clears his throat. “y-yeah?!” you stutter in surprise at his sudden attempt at conversation. that was a dumb reply. now you’re staring at him with wide eyes as he softly asks, “um, is that your wallet?”
you look at the floor where he’s pointing, only to realise with horror: that is your wallet! “oh… hahaha, that is mine. thank you,” you’re ninety percent sure you are giving off the worst first impression of all time with your stupid responses. it’s almost like you’ve never spoken to another human being in your life. and what’s with your outfit?! of course the one day you don’t dress up is the day you end up sitting next to the world’s cutest stranger. as you bend down to pick up your wallet, you silently curse your unlucky stars. you dropped your purse in front of a cute guy! can this day get any worse?!
famous last words.
because two seconds later, you’re trying to sit up straight again, and you hit your head on the hard back of the seat in front of yours. even worse, you groan loudly, “ow!” “holy archons… are you okay?” the stranger beside you gasps, although as you rub your head and look at them, it’s pretty obvious that they’re trying to hold back laughter. you’re torn between laughing or crying your eyes out, but the humour of the absolutely idiotic situation you’re in kicks in and you end up giggling even as you’re wincing in pain, “i’m fine, thank you… i promise i’m not usually this clumsy.” “really?” he quirks an eyebrow with a teasing smile, “could’ve fooled me.” “hey!” you pout, folding your arms across your chest in playful offence, “i know i might have just made the worst first impression ever, but i swear i’m a lot cooler!” “i’ll be the judge of that,” his gaze softens and he tilts his head, “i’m heizou, by the way.” “i’m y/n! let’s restart this whole thing – it’s nice to meet you!”
luckily for you, the bus is stuck in traffic, and the two of you end up talking about everything under the sun on the long journey to the train station. you aren’t certain if he’s convinced that you’re cool yet, but you’ll definitely keep working on it – even if it’s only to see the way his cute dimples appear whenever his features crease into a smile at your jokes.
✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]
it’s been a tiring day of an exhausting course. but at the very least, you’ve got your new friend to complain to as the two of you wait for the bus. “you know, i was so glad you asked me to join your group!” you grin at xiao, adjusting your tote bag. “it’s no big deal… you were alone, so i thought you could join us,” he gives you a soft smile, jade streaks of hair framing his face as they peek out from under his dark cap. “yeah, but still! it’s so difficult to make friends when the classes are so huge, so it was really nice of you.” “that’s true. you’re the first person i’m talking to outside class,” he nods in agreement. his casual statement makes you remember that you’re a professional yapper and you panic, “oh! by the way, if i’m talking too much, just tell me to shut up! i talk a lot, so that’s totally fine.” he chuckles, and his response makes a happy smile grace your lips, “no, it’s okay. i prefer listening, so it’s fine if you talk a lot.” so talk is what you do until the bus finally rumbles into the bus stop.
the constant bumping of the bus on the rough roads combined with the soothing noise of the rain tapping against the window makes you drowsy, and you turn to xiao, “if i fall asleep before we reach the train station, you better wake me up, okay? don’t abandon me on the bus and just go home!” the corner of his lips quirk up into what might be a teasing smile, “no promises.” but when he sees your distraught expression, he reassures you, “just kidding. i’ll wake you up.” “okay…” you mumble a response, and within a few seconds, you’re asleep, head lolling forward as the bus continues along. you don’t usually fall asleep on public transport, far too worried that you’ll miss your stop and end up on the other end of teyvat, but with xiao beside you, you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?
you’re in the middle of a very nice dream when you hear xiao’s soft voice calling you, “y/n?” and his tone is so gentle, like he didn’t want to startle you, that it almost makes your heart beat right out of your chest. you stretch a little, eyes flickering open before sliding shut again, “mmm…” “we’re almost there,” he murmurs. and there it is again, that soft, gentle voice that you swear sounds like honey. you’re almost going to pass out, and definitely not from sleepiness. “okay… i’m awake.” you manage a smile, and he tilts his head almost worriedly, “don’t fall asleep on the train.” “i won’t!” you grin widely as you hop off the bus, hoping that shows how you’re 100% awake right now, and he smiles, “okay then, i’ll see you tomorrow.”
bahaha these are very messy but i just needed to get these out of my system before i went insane i think i should take the bus more often 😋 also yes these are all 100% experienced by yours truly and have not even been exaggerated for the sake of this fic // general masterlist
© starglitterz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog and leave comments if you enjoyed !
#✏️ — quill writes !#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#astronetwrk#childe x reader#heizou x reader#xiao x reader#tartaglia x reader#ajax x reader#shikanoin heizou x reader#genshin impact fluff#xiao fluff
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✧༝┉˚*❋ Silly Pickup Lines ❋*˚┉༝✧
Featuring -
Cyno, Al Haitham, Tighnari, Kaveh, Zhongli, Xiao, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, Wriothesley
gn reader - pronouns: you/your
Tw and authors note - might be a lil suggestive for some lines, i dont play genshin 😭😭 so if any of the characters are kinda goofy its cause im too poor for that game, ooc, bad grammar 😬 VERY LIGHTLY EDITED, annoying reader lol
minors shoo shoo as always
✧༝┉˚*❋ Cyno ❋*˚┉༝✧
“do you believe in love at first sight, or should i walk by again?”
finally, its my time to shine
“do you have a bandaid? because i scraped my knee falling for you.”
“are you a time traveler? because i see you in my future.”
“if we were socks, we would make a great pair.”
if anyone were nearby, they would be gone now. you would surely attract a crowd of people who appreciated the little pickup line competition more, if you werent in the middle of a library.
“are you a loan? because youve got my interest.”
“if you were a vegetable, youd be a cute-cumber.”
that was the breaking point of the poor librarian, who hoped you two would just stop on your own. but nothing could stop you before you could fluster cyno, and he could go all day and night before he would fluster you.
so, yea, yall got kicked out of the library, but at what cost? honestly, yall never stopped throwing terrible pickups at each other, much to the pain and disappointment of anyone around you (cough tighnari cough).
but depending on your strength against cynos charms, you may last either forever, or give cyno a new hobby of flustering you whenever and wherever he could.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Al Haitham ❋*˚┉༝✧
“do you have a name, or can i just call you mine?”
Al haitham just looked up from his book, confused.
“i have a name, did you really forget it?”
well this was odd, he thought you were smarter than this. forgetting his name, really?? of all the things you could forget, his name was one of the most, no, THE most offensive one.
maybe you tripped and hit your head on the way in. he didnt think you were the smartest person in sumeru, but surely you werent stupid enough to forget the scribes name.
“no, i know your name, but can i call you mine?”
he somehow found a way to look even more confused. ‘can i call you mine’ who is ‘mine’?? oh. wait. mine!!
by the time he finally realized, you walked away with a cheeky grin. he was left in the dust, flustered. and to think he thought you were dumb.
now, how was he going to work for the rest of the day?
✧༝┉˚*❋ Tighnari ❋*˚┉༝✧
“arent you tired of running through my mind all day?”
he put his head in his hands in defeat, dropping the papers he was working on. with his ears flat against his head, he groaned.
“...are you ok nari?”
“no.”
“...”
after a moment, he looked up at you. he had a disappointed, dead-panned expression. his ears were still flat and he just stared at you, ridiculing you in awkward silence.
he thought he would only have to deal with one idiot in a life time. why were you so..? annoying? no, thats not it. alluring? maybe… he didnt understand how through all of the shenanigans you pull him through, all the terrible jokes and one liners, youve sill managed to capture his heart and let him keep you around. so yea, alluring.
“... do you wanna hear another one?”
*sigh* “sure, but only if its good.”
his reluctance was apparent in his voice, but the agreement was a good sign.
you gave it a beat of time to dig through your head for a clever one that would sweep tighnari off his feet.
“i think i need to see an optometrist, because i cant keep my eyes off of you~.”
“...”
“...” “get out.”
“...ok”
✧༝┉˚*❋ Kaveh ❋*˚┉༝✧
“i must be in a museum, because youre a work of art.”
The architect nearly chokes on his drink and spits it out. you scramble to help him out of concern though there was little you could do in the first place.
so pat him on the back awkwardly as he endeavors his coughing fit. sometime through the hacking, you notice it has shifted to laughter.
“what are you laughing about?? are you ok??”
“-yea, im fine, you are just too cute! you caught me off guard.”
with this, he picked you cheek adoringly. you gave him an incredulous look, this man really choked on his drink and now he demeans you? absolutely not.
you turn on your heel and walk away after giving him a look of a mix of disappointment and exasperation.
he follows quickly after to try and pester you for the rest of the day on ‘how adorable you are’.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Zhongli ❋*˚┉༝✧
“are you a geo user, because you rock my world! *wink*”
a small smile and a giggle does little to hide his growing flush. he looks away for a moment, letting your words settle in the air.
why did you have to be so cute? and you look at him expectantly - waiting for a reaction. you didnt think he would fall that easily, hm?
-though, he does appreciate a challenge.
sure, hes heard plenty of one-liners in his time, most when and about his dragon or archon forms. but he didnt expect you to exchange one with him, he doesnt know what to do or how to feel.
“you are something, my dear. are you hungry? its about time for my lunch break, i thought you wouldnt mind the offer, seeing as you seem to want to sweep me away so badly.”
“something?”
what was that supposed to mean? a good something or a bad something? his reaction did little to answer, but you took him up on his offer. maybe tomorrow you would get him.
gotta keep that old man on his toes afterall.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Xiao ❋*˚┉༝✧
“are you an adeptus, because youve reached a depth of my heart.”
at first, Xiao thought it was some adepti pun, but as the day went on, he wasnt so sure.
it had become such an issue, the yaksha had began pacing around with his finger to his chin and a furrowed brow.
he was overthinking it, he knew that, but he needed to know what it meant to be in a “depth of your heart”. did you mean it as friendly dialogue? or was there something more…?
was this a sign? a hint? a clue? a puzzle? he didnt know. how could you do this to him, what is he supposed to make of this?
could you have put him in a depth of your heart that noone else was? Perhaps it was wishful thinking. archons, why were mortals so complicated?!
by the time he had worked himself up to confront you about the issue that plagued his heart, the sun set and the stars had risen.
‘maybe tomorrow then, ill let you rest for now.’ he thought as he watched you sleep peacefully, protected.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Scaramouche ❋*˚┉༝✧
“im not a photographer, but i can picture us together.”
*silence*
“scara?”
“no.”
“what?”
“no, you are not doing this.”
aaaand he walks away…
as much as you try to talk to him after that, he avoids you. it doesnt last long though, maybe 2-3 days.
still, not very nice. you knew he wasnt the best person in the communication department, but wow.
anytime you tried to bring it up, he would shoot it down or avoid confrontation.
how nice would it be if he would just tell you if he was uncomfortable with teasing like that?
with all the teasing he makes you go through, you would think he could endure some himself. maybe he wasnt used to it though, or maybe you connection with him didnt abide by the rules of hypocracy.
maybe you should shun him back? a taste of his own medicine.
so thats how you ended up with indigo eyes piercing into you soul. as soon as you gave him any hint of a cold shoulder, his disappeared.
hes a stubborn man, he wont just go talk to you like a normal person. and all this over a cheesy pickup line.
its more than that though, the way he treats you is much more that what he can handle himself. be gentle on him, he doesnt know these things.
he doesnt know this feeling that arises every time he looks at you, when you say his name in that pretty voice of yours, the faces and reactions you make that are too precious for anyone else to see.
so when you hit him with a one-liner, maybe the feeling is too unbearable for the guy.
go reassure him, he needs it.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Neuvillette ❋*˚┉༝✧
“your lips look lonely, can mine keep them company?”
Neuvillette nearly dies on the spot. this is the most romantic gesture hes ever heard of - he loves poetry, you know.
“why of course, my love.”
okay
okay, you just kissed the chief justice of fontaine. wow wow wow cool cool okay dont freak out.
his face is still so close to yours - hairs away. his eyes meet yours, full of love and adoration.
his lips are still parted, you can feel his breath against your lips.
they were soft and gentle. would he mind if you went in for another? surely not..?
and just amd you closed your eyes, they were startled open. a melusine opened the door and interrupted your moment.
oh well, how could you be mad when the look neuvillette snuck you screamed 'meet me again and we can pick up where we left off'.
✧༝┉˚*❋ Wriothesley ❋*˚┉༝✧
“you should lock yourself up, ya know, stealing is prohibited. “
he plays along immediately, smiling, but doesnt lift his eyes from his paperwork.
“and i am so very sorry for your lunch, perhaps you could let me go with a fine, my generous love?”
your lunch? oh, hes gonna pay for this! you didnt even know about it until now, too!
“my lunch?! what did you do to it?!”
he looks up finally.
“you dont know? oh well never mind dont think about it, love. its for… the better…”
how mysterious. if you could deadpan him harder, you would.
“...so, what else did i steal?”
the audacity.
“well if you have to know, it was going to be cute and romantic, i was going to say you stole my heart but you can just give it right back, along with your lunch.”
and you walk away, off to check where you put your food.
some wishful thinking said that he was just joking for a bit, but knowing him, you cant always be sure…
---------
if u want any other characters, drop a request in my mail/ask box ❤️❤️
#whisperwrites#whisperseries#genshin impact#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin x you#cyno#cyno x reader#al haitham#al haitam x reader#tighnari#tighnari x reader#kaveh#kaveh x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#xiao#xiao x reader#scaramouche#scara x reader#scaramouche x reader#neuvillette#neuvillete x reader#wriothesley#wriothesely x reader#x reader#genshin x gn reader#gender neutral reader
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Hi! I hope you’re well! I have a Joel request please!Reader collects keychains from the different states/places she travels. She’s a bit introverted, and she and joel are both quiet and don’t talk too much, nut she’s a good listener. After a close call with a clicker, reader feels like a burden to joel. Joel reassures her that she’s not but she’s still not sure. Joel gives her a keychain that he finds during their travel & it’s a happy ending. Also can there be an age gap lol
Hope this isn’t too much, but please feel free to make any changes/adjustments :)
Thank you!
sweet anon, this idea is so lovely - i hope i've done it justice <3
Pieces of Our Path - A Joel Miller Story
Joel Miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, joel is a ding dong, and then fluff bc it's good for your cholesterol :)
.........................
“I’ll be right back. Wanna go check in that gas station.” “Tell me this ain’t what I think it’s for.” All she can do is smile as a blush creeps up her neck because it is exactly what he thinks it’s for. Joel huffs at her expression.
“I-I haven’t found one for Wyoming yet. Think I oughta get one since we’re living here now and all.” She knows it’s silly, frivolous, maybe even downright stupid, but she’s been collecting them for so long now, finding one for nearly every state they’ve crossed through, that she needs her collection to be complete.
Joel had often given her an exasperated look when she’d show him a new one she had found, never asking why she held onto all those keychains. They don’t talk much, and she supposes that’s why they’ve worked so well together, managing to get Ellie across the country, and when that went sideways, limping back to Tommy’s place, where they find themselves living now. It’s the first time they’ve been settled anywhere together, ever, and they’ve both been working out their stir-craziness with patrol shifts and scavenging trips.
“Just make it quick, alright? I’ll cover the outside. You holler if you need me.” She nods at his gruff words, already hustling over to the crumbling gas station and shouldering her way in through the rusted door. It’s dark inside, slants of light pock-marking the mossy tiles and shelves. Her fingers flex around the handle of her knife as she creeps further into the store, moving toward what used to be a checkout counter. After so long on the road, she knows where to look for these things. Joel had once joked that the keychains seemed to find her more than she found them. Sure enough, there’s a few scattered over the floor, but before she can get a better look at them, she’s startled by a loud screech coming from behind her.
It happens so quick, all she can do is let out a yelp as she gets slammed to the ground by an infected, all clawing hands and gnashing teeth as she struggles to keep it at bay. Her knife had skittered out of her hand at the impact, and as she tries to push the creature away with little success, fear starts to creep up her spine that this might be it. Just as suddenly as it attacked her, the creature stiffens before slumping down on top of her, but its body is quickly shoved off of her to reveal Joel standing over her, knife in hand. There’s a frantic look in his eyes that she’s never seen before as he kneels down between her legs and helps her sit up. The rough palms of his hands scurry all over her, checking her neck, her arms, her legs for bites. His face slackens just slightly when he finds no evidence of infection, cupping her face in his palms.
“Are you hurt?” She takes a steadying breath as his eyes hold her in place, her hands wrapped over his forearms.
“I’m ok. Joel, I’m so–” He doesn’t let her finish that sentence.
“C’mon, we need to get out of here.” He helps haul her up on unsteady feet. She feels her stomach drop when she glances back at the mottled body of the clicker, quick to hustle out of the gas station and back onto the road. Joel doesn’t say anything more, an unspoken agreement that they need to head back to Jackson. But she can see the way his hands clench around the strap of his rifle until his knuckles turn white, the hard set of his jaw as he walks alongside her. It doesn’t take a genius to see that Joel Miller is angry, and she knows it’s all her fault.
She spends the whole hike back cursing herself in her mind. She had put herself in danger, and in turn had put Joel in danger, for such a stupid, useless thing. Harsh thoughts are quick to burrow into her head, namely that Joel would be so much better off with someone smarter, more careful, someone older, as his… she’s not even sure what she is to him. They’ve been traveling together for so long now, but she’s hesitant to think of them as anything, even if they do end up tangled in the same bed most nights, something they excused as a simple human need for closeness, nothing more. She supposes that they’ve been a quiet comfort to each other, but not anymore, not now that she’s failed him.
Anxiety rages on in her mind, and Joel’s icy silence does nothing to assuage it. Even when they get back to Jackson, he won’t so much as look at her, trudging straight to the bar. She lets out a heavy sigh and keeps her head down as she shuffles off in the opposite direction toward their house.
It’s quiet when she gets home, and she figures Ellie must be out on her own shift still. She goes straight to her room, the room she has been spending so little time in, Joel usually coaxing her into his bed because they both sleep better with each other near. She had stashed the other keychains in a crumpled shoebox she found in the closet, and would often get it out to thumb through the evidence of her wanderings. Normally, it was a comfort to her, being able to trace her past in these plastic relics, but now, looking in the box, all she feels is sick to her stomach. She shoves the box back into the closet, slamming the door shut and swallowing hard around the thick heat building in her throat.
A wave of exhaustion passes over her, the adrenaline from her close encounter finally wearing off, and it’s all she can do to collapse onto her bed in a tight curl as the first tears start to fall.
..,
She wakes with a start, light hands shaking her shoulder, and as she squints her eyes open, she finds Ellie hovering over her, a furrowed look of worry across her face. She lets out a ragged sigh as she sits up, Ellie leaning back on the bed.
“Are you alright?” She presses the heels of her hands into her eyes, bloodshot and tired from crying, but she nods at Ellie’s question.
“I’m fine, kid. Just tired, that’s all.” Ellie clearly doesn’t buy that, eyebrows shooting up at her.
“You sure about that? Saw the old man down at the bar, and you and I both know he only goes there when he’s really pissed.” She huffs, shaking her head and wishing Ellie didn’t know her and Joel so well.
“We had a bad shift. I, um, did something stupid.” Silence settles over them after she finishes murmuring her answer, but Ellie is quick to break it.
“Whatever it was, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. You want me to go talk to him? I can knock a little sense into his head.” She rests her hand on Ellie’s knee and offers her a small smile.
“That’s alright, kid. Um, it was pretty bad. We’re both ok– but, yeah– it was bad. Joel’s right to be angry at me.” Ellie settles down, pressing her lips into a thin line as she nods.
“Well, I’m glad you’re alright at least. Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do?” Her smile broadens at the girl’s words. Ellie had been and continues to be a bright spot in her world, and she muses briefly that if not for her, she would have already packed up and skipped town this afternoon, something she thinks would certainly be welcomed by Joel.
“No, I’ll be ok, kid, but thank you. Think I’m just gonna lay low tonight.” The girl bites her lip, clearly not convinced by her words, but she still nods.
“Um, ok. Well, in that case, is it alright if I go to movie night tonight?”
“Is Dina gonna be there?” Ellie’s grin is contagious, and she laughs lightly at the girl’s flushed reaction.
“It’s alright kid, you should go. Just be safe, huh?” Ellie surprises her just a little with her quick hug before she gets up off the bed, digging her hands into her jean pockets.
“I’m glad you’re alright. And, Joel’s just– emotionally constipated, you know? I’m sure he’s not really mad at you, he’s just acting like it. But he’ll calm down. He likes you too much to be such an asshole to you for long.” That makes her really laugh, and the feeling is a relief, a weight off her chest, if even just briefly.
“Thanks for that, kid. You should go, they’re gonna start the movie soon I bet.” Ellie offers her one more smile before leaving. She slumps back in bed the moment she hears the front door close.
…
It’s much later when she’s woken up again by much harsher hands jostling her. It’s completely dark in her room, and she groans as she fumbles to switch on the lamp on her nightstand. She certainly wasn’t expecting to see a clearly drunk Joel Miller hovering over her.
“Why’re you in here?” His words are thick and slurred, his southern accent tugging low in his throat to the point she can just make out what he’s saying. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes watery and wavering as he looks at her. She’s never seen him this drunk before.
“I-I was getting some sleep. Joel, how much have you ha–” She’s cut off as he slumps over her where he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, his cheek smushing into her collarbone and the mussed waves of his hair grazing her chin. His words are even more slurred as he speaks now, hot breaths fanning over her throat.
“Y’never sleep in here. Wan’ you with me. Should always be with me.” He hiccups at the end of his words, jolting her in his heavy hold as he lets out a long sigh. She’s never seen him like this and has to swallow the shock sitting in her throat as he continues to mumble to her.
“Scared me so bad today. Don– don’t do that again. Need– need you– I need you.” It’s breaking her heart, listening to him say these things– things she had often imagined hearing him say to her– but only because he’s drunk enough to not give a shit. She huffs, tamping down her sadness and instead letting anger simmer in its place. She presses hard on his shoulders to sit him back up as he grumbles at the movement, his head slumping back on his neck to look at her as she stands up.
“Where you going, pretty? Jus’ stay with me.” He practically whines out the last word, and she’s heard enough. She dips under his one arm to hoist him up off the bed, stumbling a bit as he leans most of his weight on her.
“C’mon, Joel. I’m gonna get you to bed.” He huffs as they start to shuffle down the hallway to his room.
“Will you stay with me, darlin? Ple– please.” Now she knows he must be drunk off his head, because in all her time knowing him, she has never once heard Joel Miller say the word please until tonight. She grits her teeth, hauling them both through the doorway to his bedroom.
“I’ll stay with you, alright? Just– just sit down.” She gracelessly plops him on the side of the bed, a hard “oof” leaving his mouth as he sits down. She moves over to his bathroom to get him a glass of water, having swatted away his grabby hands with a murmured “be right back.”
By the time she comes back into the bedroom, she finds Joel slumped back on the bed, his legs dangling off the edge as he snores lightly. She sighs, setting down the glass before moving over to him and taking off his boots. He mumbles nonsense as she swings his legs up onto the bed, folding the comforter over to cover him up as best she can.
She doesn’t stay.
…
It’s late the next morning when she finally goes downstairs. It had been a fitful night of sleep, and she had gone back to Joel’s room a few times to check on him, finding him still passed out each time. She stops by his door on the way downstairs and sees that he’s no longer in bed. Padding into the kitchen, she finds coffee brewed, but no sign of him or Ellie. She figures Ellie spent the night with Dina, but is still left wondering where Joel could be. As she shuffles through the house, she finally catches a glimpse of him in the living room window, sitting on the porch out back. She has to take a steadying breath before she steps outside.
He doesn’t say anything as she sits down next to him, neither of them glancing each other’s way.
“How’s your head?” He scoffs, still not looking at her as she glances at him.
“About how you’d expect. Suppose I deserve it though.” She doesn’t say anything to that, keeping her eyes focused on her fidgeting hands in her lap. It feels like there’s cotton in her mouth, she keeps trying to say something else, but gets stuck before she can even get the first word out. Luckily, Joel breaks the silence again.
“Need to apologize. Acted a fucking fool last night and you shouldn’t have had to deal with that.” She swallows thickly before responding, her voice an uncertain murmur.
“I-it’s alright. I’m sorry too– for yesterday.” He finally looks at her, brow furrowed.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Yes I do. You wouldn’t have had a reason to drink so much if I hadn’t fucked up so badly yesterday. I understand. I’d be angry too.” His face slackens at her words and she can barely meet his unwavering gaze.
“What’re you talking about? I wasn’t angry– I was fucking terrified. Seeing you– I just– I couldn’t– fuck, the thought of something happening to you– I was shaken. And I handled it like an idiot, and I’m sorry.”
“Maybe you’d be better off without me then.” A heavy silence falls, but Joel quickly breaks it with a scoff.
“Don’t say shit like that.”
“I mean it.” “Well don’t. I wouldn’t be better off without you, goddamn it. I’d fall apart if I lost you.” Sober, this is the most he’s ever said about how he feels for her, and it makes her heart race in her chest.
She’s been keeping her eyes on her lap, but is forced to look at him as he turns her face toward him with a broad palm along the arc of her jaw. His eyes are soft, searching, and it’s all she can do to let out a sigh of his name.
“I can’t lose you, darlin. Pfft, better off without you. I’d be hopeless without you, huh?” She gathers up whatever courage she has in her, bringing her hand to the arc of his neck to coax him closer as she leans in. It’s a fluttering little thing of a kiss, her lips barely brushing his before she’s jerking away, but Joel steadies her with his hand still cupping her cheek, thumb brushing just under her eye.
“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t ha–” he surges forward and this kiss is certain in what it demands, what it means. She all but melts under his touch, mind hazy when he pulls away and presses his forehead to hers.
“I’m old– and no good for you– but fuck, I’m selfish, darlin. And I need you. Tell me you’ll stay with me, please.” There it is again, that rare word. She smiles.
“I-I need you too, Joel. I’ll stay. I’ll always stay with you.” He presses another kiss to her lips, both of them grinning into it before sitting back as he wraps his arm around her shoulders to tug her into his side.
“I, um, I have something for you.” She cranes her neck to look at him with a furrowed expression. He huffs as he digs into the front pocket of his jeans, holding his palm out flat in front of her. When she sees what he’s holding, she lets out a spluttering laugh. It’s a keychain, in the shape of Wyoming.
“When did you–”
“I picked it up as we were getting out of there. Figured it shouldn’t be for nothing, right?” She laughs again, shaking her head at the smug grin on his face.
She lays her palm over his, tangling their fingers together with the keychain pressed between their hands. They smile like idiots at each other. She knows that wherever the next keychain comes from, she can count on Joel Miller being there with her.
#joel miller angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller#joel miller one shot#joel miller fluff#joel miller imagine#joel tlou#tlou hbo#tlou#tlou fanfiction
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NSFW TFP Soundwave x femme autobot prisoner if that’s ok, what if he used his tentacles as bondage?
TFP Soundwave x Femme Cybertronian Reader
Femme Reader
NSFW minors DNI!
I took some liberties and thought I'd spice it up just a bit more, so you're about a helm shorter than Arcee.
A/N I am so sorry I've been so inactive, but the universe has been blessing me lately, so I've been losing sleep and spazzing lol so thanks for understanding. Hope this makes yall happy.
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Extreme discomfort sends wave after wave of hot pain from your wrists down your arms. Your frame heating up every second you're suspended in the dark room. You've tried wiggling and shifting, even trying to flip backward, but there's not enough space above you to do so. Every time you struggle, you whimper and groan, venting heavily as you try to relieve the pain from your wrists. You swing slowly from all the moving, helm hanging low optics shut in defeat. While you struggle the door whooshes open and the clanking of pedes slowly approach. Wait, no, there's two sets.
Two bots have entered. A servo snatches your chin and forces your helm up coming optic to optic with Starscream. "Quit moving, you filthy creature!" He scowls. "You're going to hurt yourself, and then I'll be blamed."
"Not like you care screamer!" You snarl at him. You look past his helm to see who's with him. While you thought it would be the good doctor, it's Soundwave. This realization makes you nervous. Starscream growls, deeply angered at your ferocity, let's go of your face and walks over to the controls.
"Maybe this will put you in a better place of understanding." A button is pressed and held, electricity shoots through your small frame and makes you writhe. Your helm shoots up so you can scream at the ceiling, body tensing and shaking. Soundwave stares fascinated, watching your abdomen and tribulen, you move them in circles beckoning him forth.
He grabs Starscreams hand away from the control center and stares into the seekers' faces, who just groans and pulls away sharply. "If you think you can get them to obey, then by all means, I actually have work to do." He nudges Soundwave out of the way and leaves as swiftly as he came.
As the door shuts behind Starscream, a tentacle comes from Soundwaves back and connects to the control center behind him to lock the door shut. Several fire walls later, to ensure his privacy, he unlocks cuffs, and you fall to the ground like a ragdoll. Another ungrateful groan is pulled from your throat. He looks down at your crumpled form. You slowly move and try pushing yourself up, but your servos refuse. You whimper slightly as you try to excessive them, bending them in different directions.
Soundwave stares at you, thick, shiny, smooth tribulen pushed together, pedes supporting your aft. Wide hips but slim waist accentuated by the position. He feels his spike pressurize the longer he stares, his vents kick up a notch trying to cool his processor. He hasn't felt these needs for years, but the second he saw you, that spark of want and need struck him in the chest like a plasma bolt. He takes small steps toward you while tentacles are released one after one, his optics trained on you the entire time. Audials picking up your small whimpers and gasps of pain, "Do your worst decepticon. I'm not afraid of you."
He tilts his helm to the side, and his chest bounces forward in a small chuckle, 'foolish femme,' he thinks to himself. The tentacles slowly stretch towards you as he thinks about something. Should I or should I not bounce around in his helm while his tentacles ever so slightly rub against your plating. It's just as smooth as he had hoped.
This newfound information thrusts his decision forth. "No, silly femme, not hurt you but make you wiggle and writhe like you were just minutes ago." Your optics widen, fear, arousal, confusion all flash through your frame. His voice was deep and low, and the sultry tone made the small wires in your hips feel twitchy.
You're at such a loss, having been flashbanged, you hardly have time to react as his tentacles take hold of your wrists, ankles, and another around your middle, lifting you off the floor pulling you closer and closer to his own frame. You make several surprised noises, but no words are formed. You look and sound like a stupid mechanimal when it's been picked up for the first time for domestication. Your cute face turned up, searching the blank mask he wears for answers.
"N-no!" You finally shout, vocalizer staticky from the excitement coursing through you. His servos reach out to grasp your waist. His digits rub circles on the seams and small wires he can get to. You're ashamed to admit to yourself that you like this. It's disgusting and bordering on rape but, you like the attention. He's cool and confident and quiet and a beautiful mech.
You loathe to say but he's an attractive mech, even if he wasn't physically appealing, the way he carries himself and does his job would be all you need to look at him and imagine fucking yourself on his spike. Your frame heats up and reacts to his touching, tentacles coil and tighten around you, each part being set ablaze.
You look away from him, angry at yourself. ' I don't like it, I don't like it, I don't like it!' You scold yourself. A smooth digit rubs on your modesty panel, and your helm snaps around to look at him. A gasp sharply sucks oxygen through your vents as it slides back lightning fast. "No, no, stop. Dont-!" You feel your optics flood with coolant. 'This isn't happening. This isn't happening' you hyperventilate.
"You like this," His digit rubs against your node, making you twitch, "you can't lie to me. Don't cry, sweet one." He calms your fast beating spark. 'Why!' You scream at yourself, upset that you're losing to him. You have wanted this, maybe. Maybe he can change? He'll switch sides to be with you, right? He starts playing with your slick, rubbing your lubricants all over your soft folds. A moan rolls off your glossa, making him smirk and chuckle, 'now I've got you,' he thinks to himself triumphantly. His own panel slides away, his fully pressurized spike bobs out.
No time is wasted as he rubs the tip against your slickened folds. Your beautiful valve is warm and inviting. Your entrance feels tight, causing a giddy feeling to bubble in his chassis. Without wasting anymore time, he thrusts into you, making you moan so deliciously. Oh, you're so tight.
He wishes he could stay in you forever, but his frame forces him to pull out and thrust back into you again. You pull against his tentacles, but the grip tightens and pulls your arms behind you, wraps around your neck, and holds you a bit higher. Pulling you off his spike and then back down into him, effectively using his strong appendages to use you as a fuck toy making your own chassis buzz with arousal.
He watches closely as your derma split and hang open as he uses you, optics lidded and glowing bright. He's savoring every last second, recording your session together for later reference. He looks down and watches your tight valve swallow his spike. He pulls out and rubs it harshly against your soft lips, so wet and inviting, node swollen and ready to burst. He never asked, but now he wonders, is he your first, has he been the one to rip your pretty little bow off and opened your flower? His spike throbs at the thought, bio lights flickering and popping. His tentacles bring you closer, and he takes hold of you once more, claws digging into your strong armor, pinching and pulling at sensitive wires.
You cry in pain, but it's just a small rock compared to the mountain of pleasure he's built in you. Your node releases wave upon wave of warm pleasure as his spike fucks you deeper and deeper. "Oh please, oh, don't stop." You beg, trying to rock your hips into him, but the tentacles keep you from doing so. One of the smooth appendages snakes it's way up to your plump derma and pushes them apart to slowly push through and pull out in a thrusting motion.
You whine at the intrusion, optics shutting tight, glossa sticking out and rubbing against the underside of his tentacle, making him shudder. His hips plow you forcefully, your processor a muddy mess, only the thought of overloading on his large spike pushes its way through to the surface. He beats you to the punch, however, and overloads, thrusting his transfluids deep inside your valve. The warm flood of liquid is all you need.
You cry and moan out as your own overload shocks your entire frame, arms and legs tensing and straightening out as much as they can. Black tentacles are tight around you as they glow brighter by the second. You both shudder and shiver and twitch. You nearly faint from the charge you've received. Your poor valve is now pulsing and sore from the harsh treatment.
He pulls his now softened spike from inside you, a copious amount of transfluids drip and pour from your now puffy and abused valve. Soundwave stares in awe at the sight, so beautiful, so proud of himself. He thinks he may want to just keep you locked up in his hab from now on. "Am I your first? It sure felt like it." He asks you smugly, making your faceplate heat up once more with embarrassment. No answer, he's right.
He lets go of your legs so fast you groan, your lower half so tired. When your pedes hit the floor, he drops you entirely, tentacles retreating to wherever they came from, but your tired body fails you, and you stumble forward into his chassis. You groan and whine, though not in pleasure. Your legs shake and bend, tiny servos hold on tight to the mech before you. An interesting sound warbles through the room, and suddenly, a blue light illuminates the room. The next thing you know, you're in the middle of nowhere. "Did he just throw me?" You say out loud expecting no one to hear, but then you hear curious buzzing and pips. "Bee?"
Soundwave stares at the floor, transfluids in puddles and drizzles, he thinks of the sky with cloud trails. A small tinge of loneliness vibrates through his chassis. Why should he miss you. You scowled at him the entire time he used you, right? No, you liked it, liked him.
He turns to where the portal had been opened just moments before. He'll have to have you again soon. Swiftly, he cleans up the mess, wipes the camera memory, and leaves the room. Excitement in every pulse of his spark, processor buzzing, he will be planning for cycles about how your next encounter will go, perhaps he will, yeah, that's perfect.
#transformers#tf#maccadam#starscream#tfp#starscream tfp#tfp soundwave#tfp soundwave x reader#valve plug#valveplug#bot!reader#cybertronian femme reader#femme cybertronian reader#femme reader#transformers smut#transformers soundwave#macaddam#asks#transformers prime
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ok the askbox is open. im taking this opportunity to say ohhhhh im going crazy over the narrative constructed here. specifically with how audience (anon) interaction is intertwined with the main conflict.
because its like.. we are inherently a BAD THING. yes, some of us are actually malicious, but even if we do have kind intentions, and only want the best for ragatha.. just being there is a negative impact that outweighs any positives. we are a parasite, after all. and technically, the only positive action we could do is to simply.. stop engaging. leave the askblog alone. leave ragatha alone. except we could never do that, because we're too curious now, too attached- we want to see how the story continues, how it ends. we cant leave well enough alone, we just have to know. we need to know. so the cycle will continue nonetheless due to our nature. and we have to watch as our main character, the person we're rooting for, gets worse and worse. knowing that its our fault, because we're choosing to engage. we're choosing this path of pain. because we're curious, and that curiosity would kill us if we didn't feed it.
and of course its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things lol. no hate btw. im here enjoying it after all! though honestly i say that like this had any opportunity of existing outside of the askblog genre... or even the tumblr landscape itself- i feel like the anon feature itself is also a big part of this sort of narrative, as it allows those actively malicious anons to be even nastier. because it distances us from our actions. like.. we're given a mask, something that obscures our true identities (both to the other askers.. and to ragatha to an extent, as most all look the same to her. who knows, maybe that one supportive anon trying to cheer her up is the same one also encouraging her downfall! she cant tell!)- a thing that wipes our hands free of any consequences. a chance to become faceless and untraceable- so of course some people will indulge. be as horrible as possible. because, hey, its not like you'll be getting any consequences for it! no way to trace it back to you! no way to be held accountable! you can just sit back and watch the fire you made grow higher. more bright. thats the main goal, after all- to make a spectacle! to move the story along and make it exciting! thats the only thing that matters to you. that its entertaining. not the people you'll be harming in the process.
anyways sorry for the fucking. essay. in your askbox. i like talking and also i fucking love dissecting meta-aligned narratives like this. gggrrggrgrgrrrr chewing on this blog like a chewtoy. i hope everyone gets worse and this whole blog blows up!!!!!!!
i can't stop giggling at ' its on a tadc tumblr ask blog of all things ' . this was really originally supposed to just be a silly blog with little story but here we are . you really won't get this anywhere else
i get pretty happy when someone dissects this silly thing so no need to apologize !! i'm my own harshest critic when it comes to this blog so it's often difficult for me to grasp what meaning people get out of this lol truly thank you guys for wanting to see my insane , Unhinged ideas come through
and i love the dissection on the mean anons - a lot of this thing hinges on actions having consequences after all ! every little thing will have an impact on ragatha's mental state . i'll say i think the anons have potential to not be as harmful - as there was a point in the blog's time where they acted more like inner therapists to ragatha than reality-bending beings of chaos ( good times ) . it just really depends on being patient with an actually mentally ill person like ragatha - it does fascinate me how people's frustration with her echoes real life mental health situations .
but yeah thanks !!! i'll be kissing this essay and pinning it on the refrigerator that i call my brain (:
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