#here’s to hoping the words and wording?

[leclerc-hs]

romantic chocolates? - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your best friend accidentally eat aphrodisiac chocolates OR you both get so fucking horny that you’re delirious warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, all smut. dirty talk, dry humping, slight breeding kink?, language, slightly mean charles!, NOT PROOFREAD (might be some typos lol) word count: ~2.8k author's note: this is a follow up to THIS anon request that i wrote for lando. here is a charles version :) hope you guys like!! sorry if you don't LOL. let me know what you think :)) ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You’re not sure when you stopped paying attention to the movie.

You remember falling into the couch cushions. You remember a few glasses of wine. Laughing, half-curled into a blanket. His hoodie. Your legs bare. Normal.

And then the chocolate.

Just a couple of fancy pieces neither of you bothered to read the label of. You tucked them into your purse after one of Charles’ sponsor events. 

It creeps in slowly.

First it’s pure heat. Not just on your skin, but beneath it. As if the blood in your veins was on fire. Curling behind your ribs, spreading deep into your belly and in between your legs. 

You’re flushed. Wearing his hoodie, legs bare and tucked together. 

You shift slightly, but throb as you feel the damp fabric of your panties rub against your clit. 

You freeze.

You can feel everything. The way your panties cling to you, soaked. How swollen you are. How your pussy clenches around nothing, over and over. Like it’s bracing for something it needs but doesn’t have.

You glance at Charles, but he hasn’t looked at you at all. In a while.

He’s sitting stiffly, forearms on his thighs, bent over. Breathing heavily. 

And then he shifts a little bit. It’s a small movement, but it has his hips twitching. And you can see the thick outline of his cock through the fabric of his sweats. Hard, heavy, and fucking throbbing. 

His breath hitches, a small groan pushing past his lips. Quiet. Like he didn’t even mean to do it,  but couldn’t not.

You bite your lip, pressing your thighs together tighter.

And he turns his head toward you, not all the way. Not meeting your eyes. Just looking in your direction.

“I’m fine,” He says, but his voice sounds wrong. Strained. Rough.

You don’t even speak before he’s talking again.

���Fuck,” he whispers. “This is so fucking bad. My skin feels like its on fucking fire.”

You catch his eye. Nodding. Agreeing.

And he groans, dropping his head into his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

You blink, a little confused. “What?”

“I can’t fucking stop,” he says. “Like I keep trying not to…I swear, but the thoughts..they just keep coming.”

You straighten your back, slightly tense.

“I’m trying to ignore it,” his voice is shaking now. “Trying to sit here and pretend like you’re just…you. My best fucking friend. But I’m so fucking hard I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

You stare at him. His voice is wrecked. Like he’s in so much pain.

“It actually fucking hurts,” he runs a hand through his hair. “I haven’t even touched myself and I swear I’m about to come in my fucking pants like some pathetic virgin.”

Your breath hitches. Your core clenching.

“I shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Not you.”

“Charles…”

“I keep picturing it,” He continues on. Unable to stop his admissions. “You. Spread out on this fucking couch. Panties pushed to the side. Pussy dripping while I hold your hips and fuck into you like I don’t give a shit what it means.”

Your thighs involuntarily squeeze together. And you’re aching.

He still doesn’t look at you. He falls back into the cushions, head back as he looks at the ceiling. There’s a damp spot on his sweats now.

“I want to fucking ruin you. And I shouldn’t….fuck, I shouldn’t be thinking this.” He grunts, like he’s angry. Frustrated.

You clench. Soaking.

“I want to grab you by the neck, bend you over the fucking couch and fuck you so hard that you cry.”

And you fucking whimper.

He laughs. It’s low and mean.

“You’d cry for it, wouldn’t you?” He says. “You’d sob right into the cushion while I split you open. Begging for more while I used your soaked cunt like it was fucking mine.”

His hips twitch, cock leaking so much that the wet spot on his sweats gets bigger.

“Can I touch myself?” He begs. Pleading. He looks at you now. His pupils blown wide. “Please…fuck, I need to.”

You gasp. A few moments pass and you’re nodding your head.

He doesn’t pull his sweats down all the way. Just slips his hand under the waistband, sinking his hand into the soaked fabric and fucking groaning. 

“Fuck,” He chokes. “M’fucking aching baby.”

The nickname makes your stomach clench as he tips his head back. Neck flushed red. He lets out a moan, hand stroking himself slowly under the fabric.

You can see the movements of his hand. His arm flexing with each pump, his hips shifting as he chases it.

“Bet your pussy’s a fucking mess right now,” He grunts. Sqeezing his cock just a little bit harder. “Warm and swollen. Clenching around nothing like it just wants to be fuckin’ filled.”

He fucks himself into his hand harder. Sweatpants dragging over his wrist.

And you can hear it. The wet sounds as he pumps himself.

“Gonna let me see it?” He huffs. “Gonna show me that sweet little pussy, yeah? Show me how bad you need it too?”

You whimpers. And his breath fucking hitches at the sound.

He turns his head, still resting against the cushions, and fucking groans. 

“You really just gonna sit there with that soaked little cunt like you don’t know what to do?”

And you swallow. Fucking hard. Panting. As your hand slips beneath the hem of the hoodie, fingers slipping down to your core.

“Fucking finally,” Charles grunts. 

You slip your fingers into your panties, and outright moan.

Charles moans almost immediately. Jaw slack at the sound of you.

Your panties are soaked. Slick drags against your fingertips instantly, clit so swollen that it throbs. 

“Touch your clit for me,” He pants. “Rub it slow. Wanna hear what you sound like when you’re trying not to come.”

You breathe in sharply. Dragging small, tight circles with your fingers shaking.

“Fuck, that’s it.” He fists himself harder, but slower. Like he wants to hold out for as long as possible. “Is it messy? Can you feel how fucking wet you are?”

You nod, eyes falling shut.

“Bet I’d slip in so easy.” He’s babbling. “Push those panties to the side and fuck you so deep.”

Your hips rock, and you rub harder. Panting now. 

Charles jerks himself faster, his stomach tensing. Watching you. Devouring you. But it’s not enough. His hips keep twitching like he needs more. 

“Fuck,” his voice cracks. “I can’t…fuck. I can’t take this anymore.”

And you barely register what’s happening before his hand’s around your wrist, dragging it from between your thighs. Gasping, as he pulls you into his lap. 

He sits back, legs spread, eyes wild, cock still trapped beneath his sweats. And he’s already grinding up into you. So fucking desperate. So fucking hard.

You moan the very second you settle on his cock. Panties dragging against him.

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me,” He mutters, voice cracking. “I’m trying…fuck, I’m trying not to ruin you. But you keep rubbing that little pussy on me like you’re aching for it.”

You roll your hips again. Slow. Heavy. Torture.

And his hand slides beneath your panties this time and he fucking groans when he feels it.

“Fuck,” He cries. “You’d let me fuck you like this, yeah? No prep. No warning. Just bend you over this couch and shove it in.”

You moan so loud that it echoes in the room. Your body trembling as you straddle him, the pace of your hips increasing.

His fingers circle your clit, rubbing.

“Look at how messy you are,” He groans. “Dripping all over me like you want me to come in my pants.”

You’re both a mess.

Grinding into him like you’re trying to become one. His hands are gripping your hips, controlling your movements. Pushing you into him harder.

“Gonna come,” He’s voice is absolutely wrecked. “Gonna fucking come…fuck, baby I’m gonna…”

You whimper, fingers digging into his shoulders as you drop your head forward. It hits you at the same time.

You cry out, grinding down hard as your orgasm rips through you. Your heat gushing as you rut against the ridge of his cock. Soaking him.

And Charles is groaning loudly. Spilling into his boxers.

“Fuck…fuck. Oh…fuck,” he’s panting, shaking. “Came in my fucking pants like a pathetic virgin. My God.”

You’re both breathing heavy, the roll of your hips coming to a halt as he holds you against him.

Both panting. Both shaking.

But he’s still so fucking hard. Cock twitching and throbbing beneath you.

“Turn around.”

And you barely register the command before he’s pushing you off, and bending you right over the couch. It’s rough. Face pressed into the cushion, ass bare beneath the hoodie.

“Still so fucking hard,” He sounds angry. “Came in my fucking pants and it didn’t even help.”

You hear the drag of fabric being shoved down. His cock slapping against your ass as he lines up.

He bends you over the couch like he’s been waiting his entire fucking life for it. Sleep shorts and panties pushed halfway down your thighs. He doesn’t bother wasting the time to take them off. Just grabs your hips and shoves it in. 

And you scream.

“Fuck,” He pants. “Feels so fucking good. So fucking wet…gonna lose my fuckin’ mind over this cunt.”

You feel your legs start to shake.

“Could’ve been nice and slow,” His voice is low. “But now?”

You whimper, muffled by the press of your face into the cushions.

He thrusts with one deep, hard shove again.

Your cunt clenching around him instantly. Fucking soaked.

“Look at that,” He pants. “Took it all in one go. Like your slutty cunt’s been begging for me this entire time.”

You try to speak, but all that comes out is a breathy moan. 

And he grabs your hips harder, the pads of his finger tips squeezing, and starts fucking into you with no remorse.

“Y’like that?” He grunts. “You like getting your best friend’s cock shoved into you?”

You sob. “Yes, fuck…Charles.”

And his hand comes down on your ass. It’s loud and sharp.

“Can’t believe this,” He sounds frustrated. “Can’t believe I’m fucking my best friend. Bent over the fucking couch, dripping all over me.”

He thrusts harder. And you’re babbling. Moaning. Yelling his name out.

“Tell me,” he’s breathing heavy. “Tell me you like it. Tell me you like my cock inside you.”

“I do,” You cry out. “I do, don’t stop.”

His hips falter, stuttering at the weight of your words.

“Sound so fuckin’ hot when you moan like that.” The pace of his hips is increasing, like he can’t get to his orgasm fast enough. And he’s still fucking throbbing inside of you. “Been thinking about it all fuckin’ night. What you’d sound like when I finally shoved my cock inside of you.”

“Feels so good,” you gasp. “So full. Don’t want it to stop..fuck.” 

And you’re clenching so hard around him that you can feel him trembling. Breathing uneven.

“I’m gonna come,” You moan. “I’m gonna fuckin’ come again.”

And he leans forward, one hand slipping into your hair, gripping it, and dragging your back up just a little bit as he grinds his cock into you.

“Yeah?” He spits out. “Gonna soak my cock? Gonna come on your best friends dick like some pathetic whore?”

And you fucking do. Hard. Legs trembling, pussy clenching him so tight.

He babbles through it. Grinding into you with such a feverish pace, it has you screaming.

“Fuckin’ hell. Feels so fuckin good baby. Pussy’s so fuckin’ warm.”

And he slams into you one last time, hips jerking. Moaning absolute nonsense against the back of your neck.

You’re both breathing heavily. Collapsed over the back of the couch, his cock still buried deep in you. Panties stretched at your thighs.

And he starts moving again.

Pulls out with a slow drag that makes you feel empty. And you hate it. Whining. His come is sticky against your thighs, walls clenching.

His cock hangs heavy, flushed an angry red. Still leaking. Still fucking throbbing.

“On the floor.” He pants. “All fours.” 

And you do. It was almost pathetic how fast you moved. Like a bitch in heat.

And he thrusts back into you with a loud groan. 

“You feel like fucking heaven.” He chokes out. “Never gonna stop thinking about this.”

Your arms give out, face pressed flat to the floor as he pounds into you. It’s sharp and brutal.

“Charles..” You’re crying.

“I know,” he breathes softly. “I know, baby. C’mon. Give it to me again.”

And you yelp as it crashes over you. Milking him. Sucking him in deeper.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing me…fuck…fuck.fuck.”

His hips snap one more time and he comes again, with a loud moan. Filling you again. Cock twitching inside of you, still so hard it’s almost not real.

And he’s laughing. 

“Still so fucking hard.” He presses soft kisses to your spine. “Gonna fuck you so many times, you won’t remember where you even are.”

And his hips never stop moving. Even after he’s come, even after you collapsed into the carpet on the floor, his cock stays inside of you.

And he keeps fucking you. 

Deep and claiming.

Fingers bruising your hips, cock slipping in and out of you. 

“Y’gonna take it again. All of it.” He grunts. “Every drop.”

He cant stop. 

“Gonna make sure you’re dripping my come for hours. All over your thighs. All over the place.” 

And he grabs you by the hair, pulling you up just to whisper into your ear. Hotly. 

“Want you walking around tomorrow with my come still inside you.” And you fucking sob. 

-

The room is quiet now.

You’re curled up on the floor, a blanket beneath you now, limbs sore. And Charles is behind you, one arm on your waist. Chest pressed to your back as his lips graze the skin of your shoulder.

His hands trail all over your body, gentle and slow. 

And you can still feel his cock against you. Still aching.

“You okay?” He mutters against your skin. Peppering soft kisses against it.

You nod. His hand slips down between your thighs. And he groans when his fingers dip into your folds.

“Still leaking, yeah?” He whispers.

And you press back into him without thinking.

“Can’t stop thinking about your pussy.” His voice is rough. Wrecked. Hoarse. “Need to fuck you slow baby.”

Your breath falters. And you nod. 

He slips in easily. And you both groan softly into each other.

“Could stay here forever.” 

You shift slightly, giving him a better angle.

“Gonna milk me again?” He says. “Gonna take all my come, yeah? Until I have nothing left to give?”

You don’t answer. Just roll your hips back against him. 

He fucks into you slowly. Unhurried. Like he never wants to stop being inside of you like this.

And he’s quiet. For once.

His lips brush against your shoulder. “Think I’ve wanted you like this for a long time.”

And his thrusts are slow and deep.

“Started wondering too much. Didn’t want to ruin anything.”

You let out a soft whimper. His hand stretched across your stomach. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

“Feeling you like this,” He starts, choking on his words. “And it makes me think…maybe it was always you.”

And your chest aches at the words.

“I think I’ve always been yours.”

His hips halt. Still. Only for a second.

Processing your words.

And then he fucks into you harder. Not rough. Just more feverish. Like he wants to claim you for eternity.

“I love you,” he gasps. “Fuckin love you. Didn’t know what to do about it. Drove me fuckin’ crazy.”

You turn your head, catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss thats all tongue.

“I love you,” you whisper against his mouth.

And that’s all it takes.

He groans, spilling inside of you. His forehead pressed into your neck. Shaking.

You both settle in silence again. Just the sounds of you breathing and the TV heard.

He’s still inside you, chest pressed to your back, an arm curled around your waist. Both barely able to move. His cock finally softening.

“Seriously what the fuck was in that chocolate?”

You blink. And then you laugh. Loudly. Tears filling your eyes.

And Charles smiles against your shoulder.

“Wasn’t just the chocolate, you know that?” He says quietly. Peppering kisses.

“I know.”

His nose trails along your skin, nudging your neck. “We should buy more though.”

And you laugh. 

“Down."

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[marvelslut16]

Robby's Biological Clock

Pairing: Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x resident!reader

Synopsis: Robby opens up to the reader that he realizes that he wants a child after finding out that he almost had one.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: Mentions of abortion. Standing a little to close to the edge of a roof. My poor writing, felt cute might delete later.

A/N: The writing bug has bitten me yet again. And I have another Langdon one half done already. Wrote this over the course of 2 days and I didn't proof read it, so I really hope it makes sense!

You keep your eyes trained on Robby after he passes his caseload off to Abbot, you’ve kept an eye on him for the last few hours really. Something shifted in him a few hours ago, and he went from his stern but friendly self to closed off and distant. With everybody. You’ve been watching, waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to snap completely. Or have a breakdown.

You watch as Robby slips out a side door into the stairwell, and you know right away where he’s going. You’d never seen it with your own eyes, but it was a poorly kept secret in the ED that after a long grueling shift either Abbot or Robby would go up to the roof and the other would talk them down. Everyone who knew, knew they wouldn’t actually jump, it was just a release for them. 

This time you can’t ignore Robby’s obvious distress, watching Abbot get dragged into South eight by one of his residents for a consult, you make up your mind to follow Robby. Up and up and up the stairs you go, until the wind is rushing past your face. Taking a deep breath, you let the cooler air wash over you after a long shift, and a part of you understands why your two favorite attendings come up here. 

“I don’t want to talk tonight, Jack,” Robby’s voice floats to you with the wind at the sound of the door shutting, never bothering to turn around.

“It’s a good thing I’m not Jack then,” you walk over to the railing, looking at the sunset, not at your attending. 

“(Y/L/N), what are you doing up here?” Robby turns around at your voice, and you reach out your hand a little for him to grab if he needs to be steadied.

“Thought you could use someone to talk to, you’ve been off the past few hours,” he sighs at your words, and turns back to the sunset. “Can you at least come back on this side of the railing? Please?”

“I’m fine,” he ignores your plea, and your offer to listen to him, leaning back against the railing.You stand in silence with him for two minutes- you counted- before deciding to do something you have absolutely no interest in and, frankly, scares the shit out of you. Hiking one leg up, you swing it over the railing and slip to the other side beside Robby.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he whips his arm out in front of you to keep you from slipping or stepping too close to the edge. 

“The same thing you are,” you sass at him against your better judgement. 

“So if I jumped off a bridge you’d do it too?” he matches your sass, sounding just like your mom when she would talk about the dangers of peer pressure.  

“No, I’d be waiting at the bottom for your dumb ass so I could save you,” your voice is harsh, wanting to nip any conversation where he could possibly die in the bud. “So…”

“So?” he mimics your voice causing you to roll your eyes at him.

“Are you going to tell me what's wrong?” you shift slightly to face Robby, back to the pink hues of the sunset.

“I found something out today,” he pauses, sighs, and rubs his forehead. “My world got turned upside down.”

“You aren’t dying, are you?” you tried, and failed to keep your voice neutral, fear lacing every word.

No,” he leans forward, and you clutch onto his arm desperately to make sure he doesn’t go tumbling if there’s a strong gust of wind. “Nothing like that.”

“Do you have a secret kid, or something?” you tease, and by the way his lips pull down into a frown, you know you’ve struck a little too close to home. “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“It’s fine,” his voice is gruff, but his soulful brown eyes give away that he is in fact, not fine. “Today a woman I used to date admitted that while we were together she became pregnant, and made the decision to terminate the pregnancy.”

“Robby-” he stops you before you can start pitying him.

“It really is fine. I understand. It was her decision and I support that, I would have supported her decision in the moment, too. But now I can’t stop imagining what my life would be like if I had a child,” he glances at your face, before looking back over your shoulder at the descending sun. “I love Jake like he’s my own, but any day now he could decide he wants nothing to do with me, and never talk to me again. For years I put off the idea of having kids, I didn’t want the burden while I was still in medical school, then I was focused on advancing my career, then I met Janey and she had Jake, and with Jake I felt like I didn’t need my own children.”

“But now you feel like you do?” you ask cautiously, surprised that by talking he’ll remember you’re here and clam up.

“I have to have a child soon if I want to see them grow up and see them off to college, my biological clock is ticking,” he tries to ease the tension with a stupid joke. “Since I found out this afternoon, all I’ve been thinking about is how I’d have a toddler now, I’d be taking my child for their first day of kindergarten, I could be signing them up for dance class or little league. I would actually take days off to take them on vacations, and go to waterparks, and fairs.”

“Well when you’re ready and announce to the world that the great Michael Robinavitch is ready to have children, there will be a line of women at least two blocks long offering up their ovaries for you. I’ll have to fight them off and keep them out of the ED so we can still treat patients.”

“You’re more confident than I am,” he locks eyes with you, finally. 

“Oh please, you’re kind, caring, funny when you want to be, and you have fantastic genetics!” you don’t know what you’re thinking, you aren’t thinking really, and reach out to brush your fingers lightly through his salt and pepper hair. “You still have a good head of hair, and gorgeous brown eyes that would look so adorable passed down to a baby. You’re going to be a fantastic dad someday soon, Michael.”

The door to the stairwell creaks open, both you and Robby jolt out of the little moment you’re having. You wobble a little and Robby practically throws himself at you to catch you and keep you upright. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper, face closer to his than it’s ever been before. You could just lean in two more inches and your lips would be on his. But you can’t do that, you can’t take advantage of him and his vulnerability he’s shown you tonight on the roof, and especially not when someone else has joined you two. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Jack barks out a laugh from the doorway. 

“Nope,” your voice cracks, and you carefully step away from Robby this time.

“Just trying to keep (Y/L/N) from falling,” Michael answers at the same time.

You thought the stairwell door opening was jarring, but nothing matches the cold feeling of reality washing over you at the use of your last name. It’s not like you expected him to fall to his knees and beg you to give him a child, but you at least thought after bearing his soul to you Robby could call you by your first name in front of other people, especially his best friend.

“Well I won’t take up anymore of your boyfriend's time,” you try to cut the tension, but it’s so thick you can’t even hack away at it.

“Myrna calls us the same thing,” Dr. Abbot shakes his head and offers you his hand.

“Thank you,” you smile at your second favorite attending as he helps you climb back over the railing. 

~

Everyone you worked with in the Pitt knew that you were having a tough time deciding if you wanted to be an ED attending or go into pediatrics once you graduate. You’ve always had a soft spot for kids, and they seem to always be attached to you, no matter how shy they were when they walked or were rolled through the doors. And that’s why Dana always makes sure you take the cases involving children. Today for instance, there’s a two year old back in the ER for the third time in just as many months because her fevers keep spiking and causing her to have seizures. 

Robby watches you with the girl, Eliana, you recognized her right away from her last few visits. He watches the way you crouch down to her height when she wants to ask you a question, making sure that you’re eye level with her. Watches the way you pull a dumdum out of your scrub pocket, you always have some in there in case a little comes in. The way you effortlessly scoop her into your arms to get her to stay still long enough to check to see if she bit her tongue or cheek too hard. 

Today you’ve promised Eliana that you’ll stay after your shift and sit with her until her parents arrive, both were at work when Eliana had her seizure at daycare. When Robby looks back over at you, you're curled up on a chair that he brought into the bay just for you, and Eliana is sitting daintily on your lap, both of you engrossed in the picture book Cassie’s son left in the break room a few years ago. If he strains his ears just enough, he can hear the different voices you give each character.

“Dude, you’re obviously in love with her,” Jack appears out of nowhere, waiting for Robby to hand off his cases.  Michael scoffs in denial, but his words are cut off, “even Gloria is betting on you guys.”

“Probably so she can send me to HR and fire me for dating a subordinate,” Robby pushes his readers back up, going back to the chart he was pretending to update while he stared at you.

“She won’t be a student anymore in one month man, I hate to break it to you, no one cares that you're her attending. Just you,” Jack sighs at his friend's stupidity. “So stop trying to come up with excuses for why you can’t go for it. I saw you two on the roof, the tension was palpable.”

“What are you, some kind of walking romance novel?” Robby puts his tablet down, the guise of updating a patient's chart long forgotten. 

“I’m just saying, if I had a woman as caring and as gorgeous as her offering to carry my babies, I would jump at the opportunity,” Jack throws his hands up in surrender at the glare Michael is sending his way. 

“How long were you out there?” 

An hour later you can finally leave, Eliana’s parents arrive with apologies, their eternal gratitude, and promises of them stopping by with donuts in the morning for the whole crew. Slowly, you trudge to your locker, doing mental math to figure how much longer it’ll be until you can slip into bed after a nice, long, steaming, shower. 

“Do you want kids?” Dr. Robby corners you by your locker, you thought he had left over an hour ago when his shift ended. 

“I’d have one in nine months if I found the right guy,” you refrain from swearing at his sudden appearance. “Why? Do you know a guy?” 

“I do,” Robby nods, backing you up into said locker. “With your nose and his gorgeous brown eyes, you two would have the cutest baby around.”

“You think?” your body relaxes into his when he rests hand on your hip, thumb sliding under your scrub top. 

“Most definitely,” he whispers, breath skimming across lips.

“Well Dr. Robby, your biological clock is ticking, we should probably get started now,” you laugh as he fumbles to open your locker, having given him the code over a year ago so he could grab you your cardigan when he grabbed his sweatshirt. He rips your purse out of the locker, grabs your hand and drags you out of the hospital. 

[asxgard]

Be. | one shot

Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!MedStudent!reader

Requested

Summary: You had no intentions of falling for the sad-eyed attending on one of your rotations. And yet, here you are.

[ Masterlist ]

Request: I know your requests are closed so this can be when you’re back because this idea is eating me alive. I was wondering if you could do a Dr. Robby x reader in their early 20s if you are comfortable with that. No one knows about them until either Abbott or Dana come to check on him at his apartment after Pitt Fest and they open the door in his sweatshirt. They talk to Robby and make jokes like “so do you have to pick her up from school?” But in the end they see his face with them and they understand why they are together. Love your writing! It’s been fueling my Pitt brain rot.

Note: Thank you for your request, @im-not-okay-i-promise1452 ! I hope you enjoy it💜

Word Count: 2.8k

Most of my works are 18+ due to adult language and content.

Warnings: age gap (reader is 23, Robby is late 40s), hospital setting, medical inaccuracies, implied smut, foul language, death of a patient, canon-typical gore, Pittfest mentions, Robby having a hard time with feelings, reader has parents (slightly older than Robby)

not beta read

It had started on med school rotation, after meeting the chief attending. You were fresh-eyed and eager, just coming off an internal medicine rotation. The ED had been a mess you were not quite expecting. You knew almost immediately that it was not the place for you, but you had every intention of finishing the rotation just to prove to yourself that you could.

You flustered in his company, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings and you felt just as delicate. A crush on your attending felt like a break in protocol, a break in your carefully curated plan of med school, residency, attending or physician in a clinic. You were hung up on his age, which helped you keep your distance, and eventually you just tried to avoid him unless he was showing you something.

Sticking closer to Langdon or Collins felt like a safer bet until the rotation was through.

It was impossible to avoid him forever, it seemed, especially in the chaos of the Pitt. Two patients had been rushed in after an MVA — and you raced behind Langdon as he got the vitals of the first patient.

Seven month pregnant woman, awake and alert, with abrasions along her arms and legs, but a bruise already forming from the seatbelt. She grabbed your hand while Langdon was rattling off her vitals as she was rolled into Trauma-1.

“You’ve got to save my baby,” she cried, face scrunched in pain. “Please, it’s too soon.”

It squeezed your heart and you wordlessly nodded at her. “We’re doing everything we can.”

Robby walked into the room with an air of confidence, and it seemed to reassure you. Until her blood pressure crashed and the code blue began — L&D had been called, but they had yet to make it. You each took turns with compressions, and you felt as if you had completely stopped breathing.

The main focus had been to bring back the woman, even as the fetal heartbeat stuttered to a stop. A L&D attending rushed in the assess the situation, and you moved out of the way until your back hit the wall, stuck frozen as the scene played out.

The attending and Robby argued back and forth over something, but everything sounded like a high pitched whine. Langdon resumed compressions and you eventually got control of your limbs again, only to run out of the room.

Your breathing had come in shallow pants, like your lungs could not take in the air you desperately needed. You vaguely heard Dana call out to you, but perhaps it had been in your head. Everything felt like it was closing in on you, like despite any efforts made, it still would never be enough.

You found the stairwell without meaning to and collapsed on the stairs. Seconds blurred into minutes as you sat there, head between your knees so you didn’t throw up or pass out. Just hours before, you had been stone faced and helpful when a man had come in holding his intestines in his hands. The blood or the gore had not phased you — but this woman? Her baby?

It rattled something to your core.

Someone sat beside you, not speaking, simply just sitting. It made your hairs stand on end, and when you pulled your head up to look at them, you realized your vision had gone blurry. You frantically wiped away your tears to see Robby sitting there, elbows on his knees, hands together, looking down at the tile like it had personally offended him.

“Dr. Robby,” you said, sticking the heels of your hands into your eyes to try to stop the tears. “I’m sorry—I won’t—it—that won’t happen again.”

He glanced over at you, “First one is always the hardest.”

You sucked in a breath, “So she’s—”

He nodded solemnly, “Fischer thinks the baby might make it.”

You swallowed thickly, “That’s good.”

Silence encased you, but the rush of anxiety being alone with him did not flush through your system. While it was a painful silence, it was one being shared.

The way his eyes swept over your face made you blush, “You’re doing good, kid.”

“I don’t think emergency medicine is for me.” You told him, like it was some moral failing.

He blinked, “Your options are always open. Your next rotation, you might find something you love.”

“When I got placed here, I guess I just wanted to prove that I could do it, you know?”

“And aren’t you?” He asked, “One patient doesn’t change the fact that you’re still doing well. Hard worker, dedicated, eager to learn and you’re excellent with patients. I can clearly see that you care.”

Heat warmed your cheeks.

He stood slowly and extended his hand, “Let’s get back out there so you can kick this rotation’s ass.”

You barked a laugh before covering your mouth with your hand. You grabbed his hand and stood, ignoring your burning cheeks.

“Thank you, Dr. Robby.”

He let go of your hand and nodded, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate, yeah?”

You smiled at him.

—

The end of your rotation came with a bit more sadness than you had expected. Not so much to be leaving the Pitt — you were quite happy about that — but the fact that you were not likely to see Robby again.

On your last day, Robby tried to have you in as many complicated cases as he could — even when only a few came through the door. He wanted for you to take as much knowledge from your time in the Pitt as possible, and you found it incredibly endearing. You shadowed him for a majority of the day, rather than Langdon or Collins.

Though, the evening came without fanfare — only people wishing you luck on your next rotation and you bid them goodbye. Robby walked with you outside.

He rubbed the back of his neck when you stopped on the sidewalk, and he looked away from you. He pulled a yellow sticky note out of his pocket, before handing it over to you. His name was scrawled at the top in his messy script, and underneath laid a seven digit number preceded by the Pittsburgh area code.

Robby’s phone number.

Your breath caught in your throat and you looked him in the eyes.

“In case you ever need anything. School. Rotations. Life. Just uh…give me a call. Or a text.”

You looked back down at it as your heart thundered nervously in your chest. After a few frantic beats, you finally got yourself to smile at him. “Thank you, Dr. Robby.

“Uh, just Robby’s fine. Or Mike—Michael, works too.”

“Thank you,” you repeated, “Robby.”

You ended up reaching out to him a lot sooner than you were expecting, asking if he was free to meet over coffee to discuss your upcoming COMAT exam. Despite having zero time to study, you truly just wanted to be able to see him again, perhaps pick his brain about some of the specialties you were thinking of, but certainly not the exam.

When you met up, it was easy to talk about what you had been up to, how you were liking family medicine, and how he had been since you had last seen him.

You were thankful that it didn’t feel awkward or forced. The attraction you had felt for him back in the Pitt had come crawling back into your chest and made it as if it had never left. His warm brown eyes on yours made it obvious it never had.

Talking over coffee became a weekly occurrence after that. Part of it felt inappropriate as the conversations ebbed away from school and his advice, and closer to something a touch more intimate and mature.

You wondered if he was just placating you, or perhaps even pitying you, until several weeks later. He had sat down red cheeked and flustered, though you were quick to see it was not from the biting Pittsburgh wind.

“You alright, Robby?”

He met your eyes quickly, before glancing away again. “I don’t know if this is forward—I was hoping you might want to grab dinner sometime?”

You stared at him, momentarily dumbfounded. “Are you asking me out?”

“That would be…” He sighed, before rushing out, “Yeah, yeah I am.”

Your smile seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“Dinner sounds good.”

—

It had been difficult to figure out, to say the least. While your age gap was controversial to many, it only reared its head to you when Robby mentioned an old movie quote that had you raising a questioning eyebrow at him. He would look mildly dumbfounded that you hadn’t seen it, or hadn’t heard the song he was humming, before resorting to show it to you.

You hadn’t enjoyed the judgment at first, but you knew his intentions were not bad — he was not looking to just have sex with you, which was refreshing. None of the guys in your program were particularly interested in anything serious, and most of the men you had met outside med school were too intimidated to seek much else. Like you, Robby was looking for something serious.

You were just surprised to find it before residency in the sad-eyed attending from your last rotation. But it was good, and no one could take that from you.

Robby wasn’t looking to rush or pressure you, and you weren’t looking to fool around and break his heart. Boundaries were easily set, and expectations laid out, and soon enough, he was calling you his girlfriend.

Your parents would likely have an aneurysm once they found out his age — they had already made a fuss to find out you were dating, “don’t let this impact your grades, young lady!” — but you had decided to wait until graduation, over a year away. Robby had respected your decision, knowing how focused you were on studying. You knew he had been nervous to meet them, and you would be lying to yourself if you weren’t nervous, too.

Robby was nearly your father’s age, which had bridged some uncomfortable conversations early on about daddy issues.

Your nose scrunched up, “I really don’t think that’s what it is. I’m not seeing you to get under his skin, or get his attention, or resolve some trauma about my father. It’s a lot less complicated than that.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I like you. I enjoy talking with you. I enjoy watching those stupid old movies,” part of your lip quirked up, “but more importantly, I like how you make me feel. I like who I am when I’m with you. I don’t feel like I have to hide or pretend, or try to be something I’m not.”

“You just get to be.” Robby said, finishing your thought.

You lit up at the way he seemed to immediately understand.

“And for the record, 80’s movies aren’t old.” His frown was playful.

You laughed, “Whatever you say, old man.”

You ended up paying for that comment all night long, more-so to prove a point, but you could hardly complain. At least not until the following morning when you woke with a soreness that should have been a crime and an ache for more that was completely impure.

A few months rolled into a year and eventually you started the fall semester with a rotation in pediatrics as an MS4. It was hard not to venture down in the Pitt to visit Robby, but after about a week, you got up the nerve to go and say hello.

You spoke with Dana, and Collins, waving at Princess and Perlah as they passed. Dana was happy to see you, and asked how you were faring upstairs.

“A lot better than I was down in here.” You chuckled.

Dana waved it off, “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, kid. I know you’ll find something.”

You bid a goodbye with a promise to stop by again — subtly looking for Robby, and now having an excuse to see him during this rotation. He looked surprised to see you, and played up the pleasantries as to not look obvious.

“What a surprise. You wanna come back to the Pitt?”

You laughed, “No.”

Robby liked to keep his private life out of prying eyes, and certainly away from the gossiping nurses, and you respected that. You let him walk you out, exchanging small talk. Once outside, he snuck a quick kiss.

“Meet you at mine tonight?”

“Me and my textbooks will be there.” You said with a smile.

—

Pittfest had been a nightmare made real, and finding Robby on that roof after only twelve hours since Jack had been in the same spot had made him worry. Robby had looked so broken, and after the day Dana had, Jack had volunteered to be the one to go check on him.

Knocking on Robby’s apartment door, a six pack in hand to have an excuse to show up, the last thing Jack had expected was a pretty young thing to answer his door. Jack blinked dumbly, looking back to the apartment number, thinking perhaps he had knocked on the wrong door.

Looking back to you, Jack noticed you were dressed in a hoodie he knew was Robby’s — hems frayed and collar worn out, the university lettering fading with use. Your eyes moved from his face to the case of beer in his hand then back to his face.

Jack finally got his lips to move, “Is Robby home?”

You only blinked, and then smiled softly. You called for him over your shoulder, and Robby came from around the corner with his eyebrows drawn close in confusion. He still looked completely worn down, but he was in new clothes.

“Hey, brother,” Jack ventured, glancing at you in the corner of his eye.

Robby’s head moved just a hair in the slightest nod. It was a movement Jack barely registered, but you had.

You introduced yourself quickly, and Jack shook your hand before coming inside. You disappeared into the kitchen, out of eyesight.

Jack raised an eyebrow at him, setting the beer on the coffee table.

“I didn’t realize you were…seeing someone.”

Robby rubbed the back of his neck, sighing, “Yeah.”

Jack sat on one of the L-shaped couch, cracking open one of the beers. He handed one over and Robby took it.

“Wanted to check in…finding you on that rooftop, I didn’t want you to be alone.” Jack looked toward the kitchen. “Didn’t realize you wouldn’t be.”

Robby only shrugged, “Told her to stay home, meet me here.”

Jack absorbed the information, “She a…resident?”

It was easy to see the rose color tinting at his cheeks, “Med student.”

Jack let out a low whistle, “How the hell did you manage that?”

“She passed through the Pitt on rotation.” Robby offered, looking at the beer in his hand. “Started seeing each other after that.”

“So you’ve got game.” Jack nodded, smirking slightly.

Robby chuckled, sipping his beer.

“Can she even drink one of these?”

Robby choked on the liquid, coughing a few times before looking at Jack wildly. “She’s twenty-three.”

Jack raised his hands in defense, “Had to ask.”

Robby’s nose scrunched up, “I’m not a—”

“I know, I know.” Jack said, “So you drop off at school?”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Robby shook his head, rubbing a hand on his face.

“Alright, she drop you off at the old folks—”

“You done?” Robby deadpanned.

“Okay, okay. That was the last one.” Jack chuckled.

Robby laughed, so many pent up emotions clearly overflowing. He took a few deep breaths and shook his head.

“What a day. Thought I had a few more months before I broke the news to everyone slowly.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at him, “You were gonna tell us?”

“Eventually. We wanted to take our time — knew how people were likely going to respond.”

Jack frowned.

You appeared again, sweatpants now joining the oversized sweatshirt — Robby’s sweatshirt. You smiled sheepishly, taking a seat beside Robby. The sleeves were just a bit too long for you, but you looked at home in it.

Jack’s mind was swimming — looking to just check in on his friend and instead finding a relationship Robby had kept secret from everyone. His mind kept jumping to you using his friend, or his friend seeking companionship in problematic places — until your hands intertwined and Robby’s entire body relaxed.

The way your eyes swept over Robby’s face with affection dripping with love and care, or the way he kissed the back of your hand like it was holding him together. The way Robby looked at you like Jack was not even there, and you smiled back at him with a soft adoration, quiet and tired, but deliberate. Deliberate in the way someone chose to care about someone else, a decision made every day, even when it got hard.

Jack settled deeper into the couch, no longer on guard, no longer concerned his friend would fall flat on his face after falling in too deep.

“I’m happy for you.” Jack told you both, and Robby smiled at him genuinely. Jack took a quick swing of his beer, smiling to himself.

Dana was going to love Jack’s update in the morning.

want to join any of my taglists? shoot me a message!

Dr. Robby taglist: @cherriready @seeyalaterinnovator @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @bxxbxy @18lkpeters @flyinglama @hagarsays @mayabbot @anakingreys @happyfox43 @dark-twisted-and-mechanical-mind @sarah-the-bird-nerd @girl-obsessed-with-things @laurenkate79 @woodxtock @rosie-posie08 @artsymaddie @partofthelouniverse @diasnohibng @qardasngan @looneylooomis @happyfestpanda-blog

The Pitt taglist: @cannonindeez @spoiledflor @kittenhawkk @nessamc @thatchickwiththecamera @sharkluver @loud-mouph @ksyn-faith @sunfairyy @dragonsondragons @mischiefsemimanaged @pastelbunnelby @jetjuliette @that-one-fangirl69 @moonlightmvrvel @andabuttonnose @boldlyherdream @cosmosnkaz @brnesblogposts @concentratedconcrete @satanxklaus @gardeniarose13

All: @nixandtonic

This feels like it might inspire something longer👀a reader this young might be problematic, but damn it’s fun! And fictional!

[myfictionaldreams]

⁀➷ Beneath the Bubbles // Poly!Marauders x F!Reader

Summary: A playful bet between her three boyfriends turns an innocent pool day with friends into a secret game of distraction, control, and quiet desperation—and she has no idea she’s the prize.

Requested by: @fictionalgoddess -- thank you so so much for this request! I absolutely loved writing this, I hope you enjoy!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom marauders, sub reader, big dick!Remus (!!), public sex, cockwarming, praise kink, teasing, size kink (!), dirty talk

Words: 3.1k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The bag sitting by your family's fireplace had been packed and ready for days. It had also been packed and repacked multiple times to help pass the time.

“Why so glum, love? Only another ten minutes.”

You tried to fake a smile as you stared down at the two-way mirror in your hand, staring at Sirius's relaxed expression. He was lying in bed, arm behind his head, and hair curling over his forehead. The mirror was a creation of Sirius and James. It was used initially to talk while Sirius was home with his hellish parents; however, now that he was living at the Potter mansion, you were the safe keeper of the mirror.

It had been great over the last couple of days when missing your boyfriends, though Remus’ face was still one that you needed to see, missing the sound of his calming voice.

Now, you were becoming unsettled. You wanted to be in their arms, smell their bodies, and feel the warmth of their skin rubbing against yours.

“Ten minutes is a long time,” you explain with a defeated tone, shoulders hunching over from where you’re waiting on your sofa.

“Aww Darling, I know it is. But it’ll be worth it, and we’ve got to make sure Moony gets here first so you both don’t clash in the floo network. I don’t want to risk  your pretty little head.”

“Hmm.”

You’re being grumpy, but really, you’re excited. Seven days seems like such a short amount of time to be away from your boyfriends in the grand scheme of things, but having been at Hogwarts for months, waking in their arms, constantly being attached to one of them, it was easy to fall into a comfortable routine. 

Sleep had been difficult to come by, and the amount of masturbating you’d been doing was probably unhealthy. But once again, you were going to put it down to the fact that you’d been having sex with three men daily, and now, you had a large appetite for all things pleasurable.

“PADS HURRY UP! MOONY IS HERE!” came the distant shout of James in the background, where Sirius was.

“Coming!” he shouts with a handsome grin, his eyes lighting up with excitement as he sits up on his bed. “See, I told you it wouldn’t take long, Darling. Safe travels, see you in a couple of minutes. Say hi to your parents for me.”

“Will do! See you soon!” you say with rejuvenated motivation. Rushing from the sofa, you say your goodbyes to your parents and collect the bag you’d been staring at for too long.

You’ve barely had the chance to step out of the green flames in the Potter’s dining room before you are wrapped in a blur of bronze skin, wild hair and frantic voices.

James was the first to tackle-hug you, arms circling your waist as he picks you up and spins in a circle as you cling to his neck. “You’re here! Finally!”

You laughed even as your feet planted back onto the floor again, only to be pulled away by Sirius, who practically buried his face into your neck, fingers digging into the back of your shirt as your hands moved into his hair. “A week without you? Torture, Honey. I almost set fire to the Potters’ kitchen again to feel something.”

“I thought you said seven days wasn’t that long!” you exclaim, looking back into his pouting face.

“Fine, I lied. I missed you every single second. " With a soft kiss to the tip of your nose, he finally releases you to allow the tallest Marauder his reunion.

Remus steps forward, calmer as always compared to James and Sirius, but you could see in his eyes how they softened when he looked you over. His jaw had a subtle clench like he’d been holding something in all week. He didn’t say anything. Just stepped up, taking your face carefully in his big hands, and kissed you slowly, steadily, and so full of longing that your knees nearly gave out.

“Hi,” you whisper as he pulls back, in a daze and breathless.

“Hi, love.”

When I was back with them, everything fell back into place—the laughter, the comfort, the safety. It was just right. However, James’ parents were only away for the weekend, so the four of you took the opportunity of an empty, beautiful home to host a little gathering with your friends.

An hour later, the mansion is buzzing with life. Lily and Marlene have brought drinks, Dorcas, Mary, and Alice are setting up the music on the back patio, and Frank has thrown pool floaties everywhere.

James’ parents' house was always breathtakingly beautiful, no matter how many times you visited. Despite its size, it still felt homely, thanks to Mrs Potter’s effort. The garden was really the prize, though, with freshly cut green grass that spread for acres, surrounded by a thick forest. More towards the house is a sizeable pool, with a hot tub to one side that bubbled away and the patio that stretched the width of the house.

You were lounging in one of James’ quidditch shirts, your bikini underneath, leaning against Sirius on a pool chair while he ran his fingers up and down your arm. Remus sat beside the two of you with a book, one hand always resting on your thigh, which was pulled into his lap.

James, meanwhile, had energy to burn. He was shirtless and loud, tossing a quaffle with Frank, and flexing his arms and abs every time he caught your admiring eye.

“I’ve decided”, James announces loudly, making sure he’s heard over the music, grinning. “I’m the hottest person here.”

“Not even close, “Sirius deadpanned, leaning over to take a sip from your drink. “Look at this face.” He points at his own smug expression.

“Look at her face, “Remus interrupts, not looking up from his book. “Much better view.”

Your face warms immediately as you pull your shirt collar up to hide your face, and the others laugh at your embarrassed response.

Hours later, after the shared butterbeer, a failed BBQ attempt ends with charred food and pizzas ordered instead. Everyone is having a good time, catching up on each other's summers, giggling, laughing, and singing. The sun has since set, which means that the floating orange lights gently illuminate the back garden with the help of the now roaring fire. It’s a memorable evening with friends.

You didn’t think twice as Remus began to pull on your clasped hand, dragging your body towards the hot tub portion of the pool.

“We’ll only be a minute”, Remus calls over his shoulder to where the others were dancing around the fire. “She’s cold.”

You thought it was an odd excuse considering that Remus had perfectly kept you warm as you rested in his arms, laughing at your friends, but you went along with him, glad to have some quiet time with him.

After removing James’ shirt from your body, Remus helps you into the warm, bubbling water. The water was surprisingly loud, and you struggled to hear your friends even if they were only a couple of meters away. Remus then eases himself in, sitting on the bench in the tub, pulling your body into his lap.

Sighing into the touch, your fingers dig into his forearms, which curl against your waist as his chin rests against your shoulder. It was calm and serene, and you could still smell his aftershave over the chlorine.

The dainty touch of his lips against your shoulder causes a full-body shimmer, despite not being cold. Remus smiles against your skin, moving further up the slope of your neck as you tilt your face towards him.

Your noses brush together as you tune his arms. You lean in to close the final distance, but he holds himself back. “I want you to keep looking in the direction of our friends. Do you think you can do that?”

Biting your lip, you hum in response, turning back to your friends. You notice Sirius and James moving animatedly now, whilst the others are resting on the seats surrounding the fire.

“I missed you,” Remus speaks into your ear, his voice just above a whisper so that you could hear over the noise of the hot tub machine. “I’ve missed your voice, your smell, those little giggles when you’re embarrassed. It feels like I’ve been lost with you.”

The words had emotions soon rising as you wiggle in his lap, trying to hold onto him tighter, needing to feel his entire body on yours.

With one arm still secured around your waist, the other moved to the inside of your knee, helping each of your legs onto the outside of his thighs so that when he stretched out, your legs spread, upper body slumping back against his chest until the waterline hovered up to your collarbones.

“And I know you’ve missed us, haven’t you? Sirius told me about your late-night chats, my poor needy girl,” Remus continues, his lips hovering by the shell of your ear. Your body shivers once more for an entirely different reason now as you think back to those nights when Sirius had talked you through touching yourself using the two-way mirror.

“Tell me, Sweetheart, do you want me to look after you? I think you’ve been patient enough these last seven days. Let me help you.”

Swallowing hard, you nod.

“Use your words, Love.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

You;d expected his fingers, maybe some teasing strokes–but what you didn’t expect was the way he shifted beneath you, the slow grind of his hips, the subtle press of his hard cock beneath the water.

“Remus,” you breathe, eyes darting toward your friends. Laughter. Singing. James is yelling about rules in a game whilst Sirius attempts to do a cartwheel dangerously close to the fire.

No one was looking.

And Remus was easing his shorts lower on his hips.

The bubbling water distorted the view so if anyone did look over, they wouldn’t necessarily see that his swim shorts were just pulled down enough that his cock was freed.

“Got to stay nice and still for me, can you do that?” Remus encouraged as his fingers ghost along the seam of your bikini bottoms.

“Yes, sir.”

The rush of water against your bare pussy was comforting for a moment. Then Remus’s bare cock is sliding between your thighs. Thick. Hot. Heavy.

And so fucking big.

Remus hears your quick breath as his thumb brushes comfortingly against your side. “I know,” he said softly, already moving your hips so that he’s able to press the tip of his cock to your clenching hole. “I know how much it hurts, baby. You always need a minute to take me.”

Because he was he biggest, Sirius may be the wildest. James might be the loudest. But Remus? The man was obscene.

He was the one who went last when you were all intimate together, had to go last, because you’d be too sore for anyone else after. You swore it didn’t even make sense how he fit, how he stretched you so wide you were surely the evidence of his cock would bulging your tummy.

And now, with your friends just a few feet away, he was sliding inside you.

Slowly. Deeply. Until your walls burn, clenching in a way that makes it feel like your body was trying to push him out of you because it was just too much.

“F-fuck,” you whimper, nails digging into his arms as your eyes flutter close, legs moving to shut on instinct, but his thighs keep them open.

“You can take it,” he encouraged, kissing your cheek sweetly. “You always do. Just sit pretty, Sweetheart. That’s it. Take every inch for me. Keep those eyes open for me, nice and quiet.”

Your eyes widened as you looked back towards your friend, now able to hear Sirius and James shouting at their friends jokingly.

You couldn’t move. Not with the stretch, the perfect and devastating stretch, pinning you open, gaping, holding you still.

Remus didn’t thrust. Didn’t pump his hips, just simply stayed inside of you. Deep and full. And already you were aching.

“You’re stuffed so tight, huh? Squeezing my cock like it’s your lifeline, Love. Bet they’d all know if they looked over what’s inside of you, there’s no hiding that pretty little face when you’ve just been fucked.”

Remus, as passive and laidback as he was with most day-to-day activities, was in charge of sex and relationships. Whether it was with you, Sirius, or James, he was the leader, giving orders, making sure you’re all in the right headspace to keep going, and that aftercare was enough.

It was difficult staying still, staying quiet. Even if you weren’t sure that you’d have the energy to move up and down on his big cock, even just not squirming in his hold was difficult to do.

Seemingly reading your mind, Remus speaks firmly, “I’m not going to fuck you, I don’t want to break you, Love. I just want to reward you. I’ve missed being inside of you. So that’s what we’re going to do. With all of our friends just over there, we are going to sit here, me inside you, nice and deep, whilst you get all wet and desperate for me.”

You were already ruined, needy, clenching repeatedly around the thickest cock you’d ever taken.

“Look at you, taking all of me without making noise. I’m so proud of you.”

Those praises had you feeling lighter, like your body was made of clouds, ready to float away.

“JAMES, YOU CANNOT THROW A BEER AT ME MID-BACKFLIP–”

“OH I ABSOLUTELY CAN SIRIUS–LOOK MARLENE, WATCH THIS!-”

Your boyfriends were being obnoxiously loud, caputinrg your friends attention and you’re so fucking thankful for this.

Warming his cock with your pussy, you eventually run out of energy, slumping further back in his hold. To anyone else, it would look like you’re falling asleep in his arms, but Remus knew it was because you were exhausted from teetering on the edge of orgasm for so long.

You were too full, too hot, too aware of Remus pulsing inside you, his cock thick and unmoving, buried to the hilt. Every breath, little shift, made you clench down violently in a helpless reaction.

He knew you were balancing on that very limit. Your thighs were trembling non stop, the fierce dig of your nails calming but only because your energy was directed to your cunt, to the muscles that were pulsing and clenching around his dick.

“Please,” you finally whimpered, tilting your head to lean back against his shoulder, face nuzzling into his neck. “Remus, sir, I can’t-”

“You can”, he gently rubs soft circles along your stomach. “You’ve been doing so well. You just need a little push, don’t you?”

You nod desperately, never having been so wound up before in your life. 

Then you felt it, his fingers dipping between your thighs, resting heavily against your clit. There was hardly any movement, just a subtle nudge, but it was enough to send you flying.

You choked on a gasp, biting on the inside of your cheek painfully. The orgasm was blinding, hot, your body quaking and clenching down. Your breath stuttered, your orgasm rolling through you like a slow, devastating tide with each squeeze of your internal muscles. 

“Good girl, my best girl. There it is. Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”

Your head is spinning by the time you can catch your breath. The ache between your legs now from the emptiness as Remus eases out, having found his quiet release whilst you were holding on for dear life.

The others were still laughing, loud and clueless as Remus readjusted both of your swim suits.

Later, when you are wrapped in a fluffy towel, cuddled against the patio sofa with your cheeks still hot to the touch and legs wobbling. James plopped beside you, arm curving around your shoulder until you’re pulled against his chest.

“You good, baby?” he asks casually, giving you a comforting squeeze.

Tilting your face up to stare at his, you answer, “Y-Yeah.”

Irius sat on your other side, his hand resting on your thigh, grinning like he could see into your soul. “You looked like you saw Merlin himself over there.”

Your eyes widened. “I- what?”

“You came, baby”, Sirius said with a low, teasing laugh. “We saw.”

Your face lit up in horror, but before you could bolt, assuming that it meant that all of your friends saw the same thing, James reached out and gently tugged your towel tighter around you.

“Relax,” he cooed. “They didn’t notice. Not the way we did.”

Remus walks up just in time, handing you a bottle of water and a couple of blocks of chocolate.

“You said no one would notice,” you hiss with embarrassment.

Remus squats down, smirking before kissing your head. “They didn’t.”

“But they did,” you say, nodding your head towards James and Sirius on either side of you.

“Oh, Darling,” Sirius purrs, squeezing his arm under your knees and pulling your body into his lap. “How could we not?”

“You were absolutely fucked out,” James teases, moving closer to your back that now faced him. “All dazed, little pout on your lips, still clenching your thighs together like you are trying to hold him in.”

“And let’s be honest, only Remus’ cock could do that to you. Our girl always looks ruined after he’s been inside her.” Sirius kisses your temple as his arms tighten around you.

“You’re not the only one who needs comfort after him,” James adds with a wicked grin.

“Oh my god,” you groan, hiding your face in Sirius’ shoulder.

“Don’t listen to their teasing, Love. You were perfect,” Remus reassured.

You peek at him through your lashes. But James’ cheeky face pops into your eyesight as he leans over your shoulder. “Okay, so small confession time.”

Sirius chuckles as Remus rolls his eyes. “There was a bet. Remus had to make you cum without anyone noticing, so me and Sirius helped to keep the others distracted.”

Your jaw dropped, “You what?”

“You won,” Sirius said proudly. “You were so good for him, Darling. Took him so deep, didn’t even move. And then when you had to hide your face as you were cumming, just beautiful!”

“I hate you all,” you declare into Sirius’ chest, where you were hiding your face.

“Do you though?” Remus asks as his hand massages your thigh. “You looked very happy sitting on my cock.”

Your face feels impossibly hot, but you don’t move from Sirius’s lap. You just sigh softly as one of them kisses your forehead.

“Love you,” James murmurs as he leans against your shoulder.

“Love you too.” Because even if they were smug little shits, you were happy and content being in their arms.

[humanjarvis]

call it what you want

synopsis: when you visit a gathering of childhood friends, they’re wary of you and caleb’s relationship. and while you take it in stride, he takes it to heart. 

tags: fluff, angst, heart to heart, happy ending, calebmc judged by childhood friends for their relationship, mc withstands it but caleb withdraws, barely yandere caleb, he does watch mc when they’re apart though, caleb breaks somebody’s teeth with his evol, calebmc relationship depicted as the jumbled up mess that it is, there’s not really pseudocest though, calebmc are each other’s first kiss, caleb is insecure, mc comforts the hell out of him, references to caleb’s mental illness, allusions to sex. inspired by “call it what you want” by taylor swift  pairing: caleb x fem!reader, reader is mc word count: 8.1k (woah!)

a/n: behold my thesis on the intricate siblingfriendpartnership of calebmc. it’s the best thing i’ve written and i’m so glad. but also this has ended up doubling as my 2k followers special 🎉🎉🎉 that is an unfathomable amount of people subjecting themselves to my writing and i’m seriously so grateful. thank you for motivating me to create! anyway, i truly hope you get something out of this, but even if you don’t, i’m proud of it 💞

“C’mon, pip-squeak. We can't ignore it forever. I’m here now, and I'll be right by your side. All those bad memories…you won’t have to face them alone anymore.”

“I know. And I’m glad. But still, it’s…different now,” you smile weakly, failing to suppress a heavy sigh. 

Caleb was in Linkon for the week, having put his foot down about his well-earned time off. And you, having gotten used to the constant Fleet interruptions, had gone the extra mile to make him unreachable: locking his communicator in your bedside drawer. 

After three days of making new memories—you’d ticked the movies, the zoo, and a concert off your list—his love for nostalgia had finally gotten the better of him. He’d set his sights on reminiscence, and all morning, he’d been pestering you to visit your old neighborhood. Where your childhood home had once stood.

“We can just take a look around. Five minutes, tops. Aren’t you curious about that old playset you used to drag me to? Always made me spot you under the monkey bars in case you fell. I’m sure they miss you,” he teases, hope shining in his ametrine eyes. 

And as you picture it—the iron bars of the jungle gym, now rusted with time; the grayish, well-traveled cobblestone streets; the wild honeysuckle bushes scattered around the block—you know this is a battle you can’t win. 

“Fine,” you huff. “But you’re driving.” 

“As if I’d refuse. And hey,” he softens, grabbing your arm gently. “If it’s too much, let me know. We’ll come back right away.” 

***

Your stomach roils as familiar street signs come into view.  

Green lawns and picket fences. Symbols of safety you could no longer trust. 

Humming along to an old pop hit on the radio—a valiant attempt to distract you—Caleb turns into your neighborhood, and you clench your teeth involuntarily. 

Luckily, you don’t have too much time to worry. Because seconds later, he pulls over a few houses from home and puts the car in park. 

You sit for a moment. Watching. Breathing.  

Thinking of how the last time you came here, he was dead.

“I’ll race ya,” he says suddenly, shutting the engine off and throwing his door open. And with a strained chuckle, you follow suit.

You lose on purpose, slowing your steps the closer you get to Gran’s house. You know he can tell.  

But soon, you run out of room to stall. 

As you stand beside the “FOR SALE” sign, feeling like a stranger, the freshly polished wood and foreign color scheme deepen the pit inside your stomach. 

Caleb whistles lowly. “Sure looks different, doesn’t it?”

But you’re not listening. You’re remembering. 

You remember the smell—the charred scent that stuck with you for so long after the explosion, your nostrils blistered from too much blowing. The way ashes fell endlessly from the sky, and you didn’t know what—or who—they were made of. The last-minute salon visit you’d had to schedule to chop the singed ends of your hair off. 

“C’mon. That playground is just this way,” he offers, coaxing voice saving you from too much rumination. 

“Okay,” you whisper, sliding your hand into his.

It was an age-old lesson, one you’d learned a hundred times: summer heat and monkey bars don’t mix.

As you flinch away with a startled hiss, Caleb casually pulls spare gloves from his pocket—as if he kept them on him for a situation like this—and carefully slips them onto you. For someone whose hands dwarf yours, they fit suspiciously well. 

“Up you go,” he sings, lifting you to reach the handles. And just like all those years before, he walks beside you as you cross, steadying you with his gentle touch. 

When you reach the end, instead of jumping down, you shift your momentum to swing backwards, skater dress twirling with the motion. 

But as your front faces the street again, you realize your mistake a moment too late. 

“Oh my gosh, is that who I think it is?!” 

As a vaguely recognizable voice squeals, you freeze in place, hands squeezing around the iron bars in a death grip. 

“Oh, it totally is! You haven’t come around here in forever—it’s so good to see you!” the voice continues. 

Turning your head—slowly, like the main character in a horror film—your eyes land on an all too familiar figure. Sarah, a girl around your age you used to envy for her toy collection, stands just feet away from you, long leash corralling a massive German Shepherd held tightly in her manicured hand. 

With two light taps on your back—Caleb’s signal for you to come down—you loosen your hold and land almost gracefully on the pea gravel below. 

This was a situation you’d only been in once before. When Gideon had crossed paths with you at the cemetery and learned his dead friend was, well…not. 

In any case, the circumstances then had been rare enough for you to carry on without establishing a protocol. And now, as you stand at the mercy of someone with no reason to keep Caleb’s secret, you’ll be forced to improvise. 

“Hi…Sarah,” you grin awkwardly, fiddling with your hands in front of you. “Thought you’d have moved by now.”

“Nope!” she chirps, not catching your apprehension. “We’re gonna give it one more year. After my husband saves up from his new job, we want to travel a bit before settling down.” 

You nod brusquely. 

“By the way, we haven’t really seen you here since the accident. I’m so sorry about your grandmother and Caleb—I know how close you two were. But—oh! Excuse my manners,” she pivots, looking behind you as if a lightbulb flicked on overhead. “Who’s th—”

Sarah’s tanned face blanches. 

“Hey Sarah. It’s been a while,” he greets casually. 

And the woman in front of you looks between you both as if she’s seconds away from siccing that dog on you. 

“You…caught us at a bad time,” you giggle nervously. “It’s kind of a secret, but…that was a…false report, after the explosion. Caleb actually managed to flee the area with a few burns. The authorities just kept the whole thing under wraps in case it was a targeted attack, or something. So I’ve been keeping an eye on him ever since!” you smile tightly, squeezing his dry palm with your clammy one. 

“Oh…well…what a relief, I guess!” she chuckles uncomfortably. “Well…if you’re not laying too low, Caleb,” she starts, extroverted nature beating out her rationality, “we’re having a get-together with all the neighborhood kids tomorrow! You guys should totally come. We’d hate to miss our favorite duo—you were always so funny, nagging each other like siblings.” 

You bristle at the term, gripping Caleb’s hand so tightly it could bruise. “Um, thanks for the offer, Sarah, but we…” you trail off, looking at him to help you. 

“We’d love to come!” he doesn’t. 

“Uh, we…would?” you question, perplexed by his sudden enthusiasm. 

“Yeah, why not, pips? It’d do you good to reconnect with some of the girls you liked hangin’ around. Plus, I’ll be right there with you,” he smiles brightly. 

Though his reasoning barely quells your anxiety, your heart softens at the gesture.

“Alright, then,” you turn to Sarah. “We’ll be there.”

The old mall down the block is halfway through renovations. 

Neon orange construction cones litter the parking lot, and every door but the main entrance is sealed off with yellow caution tape. 

Navigating through the weekend traffic, you and Caleb wander through the swarming, noisy corridors, leaving store after store empty-handed. 

You don’t know what to wear. 

Meeting so many people after such a long time…there’s an irrational need to impress, to look like you have your life together.

And somehow, every outfit seems off on you. It’s not false advertising—the mannequins are gorgeous as ever. But there’s something about you that ruins every look. 

As you rummaged through different displays, Caleb had done some light hovering—staying near, but letting you do your own thing, overall. 

But as you return another dress to the rack with a frustrated growl, he swoops in to put his scary intuition to good use. 

“This would suit you,” he grins kindly, brandishing a pastel blue sundress. “Wanna try it on?”

You eye the fabric skeptically. It’s not your usual style, but you take it into the dressing room anyway. 

And of course, the first thing Caleb picks out for you is perfect. 

“Told ya,” he laughs when you call him inside, back hugging you in the mirror. “You look beautiful. ‘Course it helps that it was my idea, and all.”

Swatting him gently, you giggle as you try to push him out of the cramped space, grunting with annoyance when he sandbags you. 

“Get out of here!” you protest. “We still have to find your outfit, and the mall closes soon.”

“Okay, okay, I'm going,” he relents cheekily. “Snap a picture for me before you take it off, though, alright?”

***

Once you’d paid—or he’d paid, having levitated your purse in the air while you scowled at him—you’d dragged him over to the men’s section, where you’d found an outfit just his size with a similar color scheme.

He’d preened when you held it out to him, puffing his chest out with pride at the fact you knew his tastes so well. And in his sparkling eyes, you’d spotted a flicker of possessiveness as he looked between your clear garment bag and the clothes in his hands, not so subtly comparing the blues to each other. 

And evidently, with the way he’d refused to even try anything on before heading back to the register, he’d been satisfied. 

As you make your way back to his car, Caleb tugs you in by the waist to claim your lips in a tender kiss. 

“It’s perfect,” he breathes. “It’ll be perfect. And even though we’ll be matchin’…I get the feeling you’ll be the one people can’t look away from.”

Caleb’s hand is on the small of your back as you step through Sarah’s front door, but it leaves you as he encourages you to mingle. “Go catch up,” he urges with his signature grin. 

You know what he’s doing. What this whole thing has been. A way to push you out of your comfort zone, a prolonged apology, and a promise to be less overbearing, all in one.

He needs it just as much as you do. Needs you to know that he’s trying. So as you nod softly and make your way through the throng of laughing faces, you hope he sees you trying, too.

Sarah’s parents had both been lawyers, and if the diplomas lining the far wall of the living room didn’t make that clear enough, the sheer size of their house sure did. 

The layout is vaguely familiar—Caleb had been friends with her older brother, and you’d practically begged him to tag along on playdates so you could see the fancy house down the street. 

As you take it all in—the flat screen TVs (plural) broadcasting different channels, the iridescent streamers lining the bannisters, the variety of appetizers spread out across the first floor—you only grow more envious. 

Turning away with a petty huff, you focus on the people instead. As you study faces new and old, you wonder how many guests here brought their partners. How many know that you brought yours.

Sarah—ever the gracious host, never the gossip—had informed the attendees about Caleb’s situation in hopes that he wouldn’t be bombarded the second he stepped inside. And it was working, somehow, as far as you could tell. Aside from a few wary glances sent his way, people greeted him just like they did before: as the golden boy whose presence was a gift. 

At some point, as you’d hovered aimlessly by the drink table, a girl you remembered fondly had strolled up to you. Marley, her name was. With her lively eyes, kind smile, and eagerness to play dolls with you, she’d been your closest non-Caleb friend in the neighborhood. 

“Who would’ve thought the girl next door would grow up to be a hunter, huh?” she jokes, gently elbowing your ribs. 

“It’s really not that special,” you laugh, halfheartedly dodging her pokes. “Just something necessary, I guess, since the Wanderers came. I thought it’d be cool, high-stakes action movie stuff every day, but I kinda feel like a firefighter saving a cat from a tree sometimes.”

“Oh, please. You’re practically a superhero! Caleb, too, being a whole pilot and all. Time really flies—I still remember when he helped you set up your lemonade stand that one summer,” she giggles. “You were always so in sync.” 

“Still are,” you smile softly, gaze subconsciously finding Caleb from across the room. He's chatting in a group of his old buddies, but as always, it’s like he can sense you looking at him. His eyes find yours in an instant, as if he already knew where you were standing—because of course he did—and he shoots you a boyish wink.

“But, if you don’t mind me asking,” Marley hesitates, her eyes shifting perplexedly between you. “Are you two…together…now? You seem even closer than you were as kids, if that’s even possible,” she mutters sarcastically, talking from the side of her mouth. 

As the question hits you for the first time that night, you plaster a big, fake smile on your face. “We sure are! It was five months last week.” 

“Well, congrats, I guess,” she tries to exclaim, but her confusion stunts her sincerity. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s just…I never expected you guys would date! You always seemed more like…ah…friends,” she cringes, her own fake smile twitching slightly.

Friends.

As the word fights its way out of her mouth, likely beating several less polite alternatives, the weight of her hesitance is not lost on you.

“Friends, huh?” you echo, and your smile is real this time. A show of your teeth, a hint that she’s just entered dangerous waters. “What kind of friends grow up in the same house, Marley? Raised by the same person, and all. Pretty rare if you ask me,” you cock your head in mock contemplation. “C’mon, what do you really mean to say?”

You’d been taught well. 

“Okay, okay!” she huffs, folding like a lawn chair under the pressure. “I always thought you were like siblings. Thought you guys thought you were like siblings. I’m just surprised, is all.”

“There’s nothing to be surprised about,” you nod curtly. “You lived next door, not with us. You don’t know how we felt about each other.”

Your voice is robotic as you meet her with a deadened stare. No matter how much you’d expected it, no matter how much you’d prepared, the judgment catches you off guard. 

The rumors, the gossip—it’s one reason you thought Caleb would decline the invite. To protect you, if nothing else. But with a bitter, inward laugh, you guess that him trying means letting you be in situations you might’ve begged him to shield you from.

“I need some air,” you decide suddenly, interrupting Marley’s frantic apologies to turn toward the door. “It was nice catching up.” 

A cool breeze kisses your exposed skin as you watch the fireflies blink from the patio. And as beautiful as they are, glittering in the night sky, there are other things on your mind at the moment.

If Caleb was ever a brother to you, he was the best brother anyone ever had.

You’d seen the way your friends acted with their brothers. Always kept a watchful eye on their interactions, as if comparing their relationships to yours. Middle school, high school, college.

And over all those years, no brother had ever been as attentive—as doting, as patient, as loving—as Caleb. 

After the explosion, when you were left to deal with your feelings alone—no nagging, oversized puppy to distract you—you’d pondered how you saw him. Deep down, under the structure and order and propriety that was forced upon you too young. Regretted that it was too late to ask him how he saw you. 

And if those quiet nights crying so hard it felt like drowning had taught you anything, it was this: as much as Caleb was brotherly, he had always been more—so much more than what he had to be to you.

He could’ve shut himself in his room for hours, leaving you to fend for yourself. He could’ve ghosted you the minute you no longer went to the same school. Could’ve found a girlfriend, had kids early, and moved his real family far away from you. All these things, you’d seen happen.

But through it all, Caleb had stayed, and he’d done it with his signature smile. Even when you’d worried he’d outgrown you, had outpaced you with his stellar achievements, he’d just pinched your cheek with a fond grin. Who d’ya think I do all that for, silly? he’d laughed. 

By your reunion, when he’d stared down at you so cruelly, you’d known what he was to you. The only man you’d ever loved, in all meanings of the phrase. That’s why it had hurt so much. 

And Caleb had scared you off. Your feelings were fragile, only newly realized. But his…were developed. Intense. More intense than you were ready for, coming from someone who’d been off-limits for 15 years. 

So you’d resisted. Resisted his spiraling admissions, resisted the feelings you knew he had for you, resisted his frantic attempts to steal you from the world. 

It would take time for you to accept a love like his. You’d told him as much five months ago—that you needed to meet in the middle. And he’d promised to try. 

As the days went by, you got used to treating him like a lover. To putting new meanings behind every touch. And every time you kissed him, he carved out more of his own paradise in your mind, escaping the liminal area he’d occupied in unfulfilling restraint. 

It was only in moments like this when prying eyes and hushed whispers wore you down. People who thought that, because they knew you once—for a summer, for a semester, for a school year—they knew who you were and how you felt. But there was something paradoxically mercurial about you and Caleb: the more you stayed the same, the more you changed. And only the two of you were privy to it. 

Even still, some leers and questions got to you, just as they had tonight. Apprehension and a resented sense of shame had filled your gut, as if you’d been “caught” stealing from your own wallet. 

But of all the things Caleb was to you, only one mattered: he was yours. And as a firefly lands on your outstretched palm, twinkling beautifully in the darkness that threatens it, you know no one can take that from you. 

Caleb had had better nights. 

He’d had worse, for sure—agony and loneliness come to mind—but he’d definitely had better. 

He’s spent this one mingling among the names he hadn’t cared to remember, all as an attempt to show you he won’t cage you in. You can have fun, have friends outside of him, as much as the thought makes his stomach churn. 

And what better way to start than with people he already knew? Baby steps.

As he cranes his neck to find you again (which shouldn’t be hard, since he just has to look for the one dressed like him), he vaguely registers an incessant buzz of a voice talking his ear off. Jared, he calls himself. 

“Anyway, I can’t believe you did that to her. That’s fucked up, man,” the voice says, clapping Caleb’s back with an obnoxious chortle. 

And as much as he needs to find you, Caleb really wishes he’d spared some of his attention for the homunculus beside him. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asks lowly, lifting the hand from his shoulder with a firmness that any sober person would find threatening. 

He’s almost certain you’re not in the room, now, your calming presence lost in the sea of discarded memories. Alarms sound in his head at the realization, only to be drowned out by something more damning.

“It’s just…you grew up together! Had the same grandma. That's like your sister, dude. But you know what, to each their own. The way she looks, I can’t say I would've held myself back any better than you did. Probably worse, man. Matter of fact, you fucked her y—?”

The force of Caleb’s Evol clamps Jared’s mouth shut.

And, if his muffled yelp is any indication, hopefully breaks a few of his teeth, their bloodied chips settling on his tongue.

“This sorry excuse for a conversation is over. Leave. Now. And if I see you talking to her on your way out, I’ll make sure you never get the chance to again.”

Jared nods fearfully, and after one last snarl, Caleb lifts his Evol, albeit begrudgingly. It takes Jared a few seconds to notice his newfound freedom, but the moment he does, he’s scurrying out of the house. Good. 

You’re back in Caleb’s sight, now. But as he takes in your shy smile, the faint melody of your laughter filling his keen ears, he doesn’t feel the comfort he normally would. 

Instead, he feels his dog tag. 

Your precious gift to him. A symbol of how you needed him, of your anticipation that he’d always be in your life. Of his hope that one day, you’d return his feelings. 

He recalls the once comfortable weight, the way his body heat would flow into the cool metal, linking it to him in a warm embrace. 

The chain now burns against his throat.

Jared had been brash.

Crude, crass, and certainly cocky, thinking he was deserving of you. 

So as Caleb watches you chat among a mixed group of guests, swirling his full cup in agitation, he decides he doesn’t care about the delivery. It’s the content that troubles him. 

Because Jared, in his drunken state, had managed to hit a nerve Caleb had tried to sever five months ago. 

Are you sure you want this? he’d asked you shakily. Want it from me? With me?

And in clear confirmation, you’d claimed his first kiss.

But even still, the thoughts lingered at the back of his brain. That he was tainting you, taking advantage of you, stealing your life away. 

He knows Jared isn’t worth the scum beneath his shoe, but those unsavory thoughts made his own worries resurface. 

And as fickle as his mind was, he’d only ever known to trust it. 

So when Caleb sees you beam at another man’s compliment, glowing like you’d been sent from heaven itself, he feels like maybe he’d been right.

For the rest of the night, Caleb dreaded the drive home. Luckily, you’d slept for most of the way back. 

But as he parks outside your building, gently rousing you from your sleep, the feeling returns in full force. 

“Good morning,” you giggle, stretching drowsily. “Sorry I fell asleep on you—I can’t remember the last time I talked that much. Did you have fun?” 

“Something like that,” he says, popping the driver’s door open. “You?”

“I did, I think,” you start, opening your own side and sliding out of his car. “I really did. It was a little rough at first, but it got better. What about you? Anybody try to stab your brains out? Since you’re undead and all.” 

He chuckles dryly. “Not exactly.”

As you trudge toward your apartment, Caleb trails behind you. You’re so dazed, you almost don’t notice it. But you miss the familiar warmth of his left hand.

Your tired fingers quiver as you fail to unlock your door, and with a gentle nudge, Caleb slides the key in for you. 

Mumbling a “thank you,” you step through the doorway, making space for him to follow. When he doesn’t, you turn to face him, frowning lightly in confusion. Gleaming in the moonlight, the metal threshold separates your feet: yours on the inside, his on the outside. 

“I’ve been called back to Skyhaven. It’s nothing too serious, but I’ll have to cut this visit short. Don’t worry about me.”

The words pierce your chest like a dagger, but his cold delivery twists the knife.

“Oh,” you breathe, not knowing what to do or where to look or how to hide your disappointment. “I didn’t know they had any way of contacting you. Your communicator’s still in my nightstand, you know,” you quip lamely. “But I guess four days has to be enough this time. I’m lucky to have gotten that.”

Smiling weakly, you lean in to kiss him. But with his sudden reservation, the moment is more chaste than you’d intended. 

As he starts to turn away, you instinctively grab his hand. “Are you…is everything okay? You’re being weird,” you whisper, eyes searching him in concern. 

“No I’m not,” he retorts, forcing life back into his voice. The weight of his hand ruffling your hair feels wrong, somehow, and his airy tone is a contrast to the darkness in his gaze. “Get some rest, pip-squeak.”

Caleb never thought the jewelry box you’d left at his place would come in handy. 

He had no use for it—the only piece he truly needed to preserve stayed looped around his neck at all times. 

But as he stares at the silver chain hung carefully on a hook, its ruby-crested apple dangling in the evening sunlight, he silently thanks you for your forgetfulness. 

It’s been two days since he returned to Skyhaven, but the events of that night remain fresh wounds in a fragile mind. 

I can’t believe you did that to her.

I can’t believe you did that to her.

To you. Not with.

As if his love was an assault. 

All his life, Caleb had tried to show you only the good sides of him. To tamper down his intensities so you’d eat from his palm. You were a skittish thing, failed one too many times by an inadequate world. So he’d approached you gently, practicing docility until it became second nature. To keep his eager hands from defiling you. 

He’d molded himself into whoever you needed him to be, never admitting what he wanted to be to you. All so you would tolerate him, want to keep him around for his services, if nothing else. Because as much as he claimed to protect you, your safety was his anchor. If you were loved, warm, and unharmed—if he kept you that way—then every consequence was worth it. 

He’d learned to live like a chameleon, his temperament matching your mood. And as much as a forgotten part of him yearned for identity, it was a role he’d settled into playing—until his weakened back had snapped under the pressure. 

When you’d confessed that you felt the same—that you loved him in more ways than the one you should—he’d deluded himself into thinking those years of restraint were over. That he could stop watching over you and start walking with you. That you would fall from propriety hand in hand. 

He’d never thought himself naive. Always launched himself ahead of the curve so that would never be an option for him. Naive was something someone with his responsibility couldn’t afford to be. 

But now, as his lifeline swings back and forth on its new perch, jingling with what could only be mockery, the feeling swallows Caleb whole. 

It would’ve killed him to see you with someone else. He’d had nightmares about it every month, save for the last five, ever since he was a teenager. But even if you chose to live with someone else by your side…at least he would have gotten to see you do it. To watch you be happy, carefree, without you wondering if it was your right to be. Without the guilt of robbing your life from you, tainting your purity with his sin.

He knew you were wary. You’d gotten better about it—at hiding it, at least—but he could still feel the panicked clench of your hand in his when someone looked at you too long. You were trying, for him, just as he tried for you. But if trying meant the unfiltered scrutiny that Jared had spewed could one day reach you, it wasn’t worth it, he decided. 

You deserved more than the headache he’d give you. 

***

The days drag on. 

Caleb’s vacation ends as little more than purgatory, and when he dons his Colonel uniform once more, the Fleet’s affairs feel his presence now more than ever. 

He’s sharper now, meaner. Mistakes that would usually earn a light slap on the wrist now end in termination. Figurative or literal, the recruits aren’t sure. 

He knows he’s spiraling. He hears the whispers: “The Colonel’s finally lost it” met with “As if he ever had it.” But rebuke from any voice but yours doesn’t reach him. 

During flights, he plays his missions a little less safe, making rash decisions sure to end in incident, eventually. He justifies it, in his head, by thinking that maybe an injury would inflict upon him the suffering he deserves. 

He’s been drifting, lately. Through the hallways, through the streets, through space. 

But aimless as he is, Caleb can’t bring himself to desert you completely. Those 15 years of gentle servitude had become so ingrained in him, he thinks a total cutoff would only make him more reckless. So he pacifies you with brief, polite answers, sharing none of his usual charm and emoticons. This flighty, diluted version of himself was all that he could offer. 

But each day, when Caleb stumbles back into the necessary solitude of his house, wheezing with overexertion, he heads straight to the hidden room where you’d discovered his bionic arm. Where, under dark wooden panels, a row of monitors hide. 

Their feeds are clear as they’ve always been. Your cubicle, your route home, your front door, your kitchen. Your bedroom. 

And until he succumbs to exhaustion, Caleb watches you. 

Watches you sift through reports, eyes open but unseeing. 

Watches you stumble on the way home, your foot catching on a stray root that he would’ve spotted in time. 

Watches you crumble, after a while, and curl up on the side of your bed where he always slept. 

Watches until the rhythmic rocks of your crying body lull you to sleep in place of his heartbeat.

As the clock strikes midnight, you complete your count to 23.

It’s been 23 days since you’d received anything more than a one-word response from Caleb. 

At first, you’d given him grace—thought he just wasn’t feeling well. He was always one to withdraw from you when sick, locking himself away for a while before emerging like nothing happened. 

But even then, he was never this curt with you. He always reassured you that he was okay.

Days passed, and the mysterious illness theory flew out the window. As you fired off another concerned text, all but pleading for him to say something, you wondered if he was mad at you—but what could you have done? Not to mention that when he was mad at you, it usually ended with him apologizing, somehow. It’s always Caleb’s fault, huh? he’d cooed at you, rubbing your back tenderly. I’m sorry, baby. 

Something was just…wrong. Terribly, scarily wrong. And whatever it was, you had to figure it out alone.

With a frustrated growl, you snatch your phone up from its place on your nightstand and scroll to your latest messages, hoping he’s decided to take you out of time-out. 

you: hi. i know you’re probably sick of me asking, but can you call when you get a chance? haven’t heard your voice in a while.

>:( : later.

Nothing. He was giving you absolutely nothing.

You want to scream. Want to hunt him down, grab him by the collar, and thrash him around for being so difficult. But as your gaze flits to the photo on your desk—a silly selfie you’d taken on your first official date—your heart constricts from how badly miss him. 

You miss him so desperately that the pain in your chest is worse than when he left for college. At least you’d known he would come back to you, then.  

As hot tears well in your eyes—far from the first time—you remember the words he’d written to you once, never intending for you to read them: “Any man who makes you cry isn't worth your time,” you repeat, snorting softly at the irony.

But unluckily for him, Caleb wasn't any man.

Any man wouldn't braid your hair from childhood to now, never teaching you to do it yourself because he wasn’t willing to give up doing it. Any man wouldn't skip the senior trip he’d saved hundreds for just to nurse you through a stomach bug. Any man wouldn't dedicate half his life to making sure yours was painless. 

So no, Caleb wasn’t any man. He was smart, skilled, and devoted. He was reliable, doting, and selfishly self-sacrificing. He was the reason you’d grown up so well, always wanting to make him proud. And he was yours.

Tugging harshly at the roots of your hair—a habit he’d always tried to break—you pace around your bedroom like a frenzied animal.

You were going to go to him, that much was obvious. To ambush him and make him explain what you’d done for him to discard you like this. To apologize, if he’d hear it. 

But how, if he wouldn’t give you the time of day? The man lived in a giant sky fortress, for God’s sake. And with his neverending suspicions, it wasn’t like he trusted any other members of the Fleet enough to give you their contact informati—

Except, you interrupt yourself, freezing mid-step. He did.

Liam.

Caleb’s faithful adjutant, the one you’d spoken to—or spoken at, while he looked at you unnervingly—just a handful of times.

Sometimes, bad ideas are the only ones available.

Retrieving your phone from where it lies face down on your rumpled blanket, you scroll and scroll to the bottom of your contact list, where Liam’s name stares back at you forebodingly. 

Steeling yourself with a shaky nod, you press call and wait with bated breath. He answers on the second ring. 

“Miss, may I ask why you’re calling? Are you in any trouble?” his deep, dispassionate voice, devoid of any true concern, rings out.

You swallow thickly before trusting your voice enough to sound as anything more than a pitiful squeak. “I-I have Caleb’s communicator,” you maneuver skillfully despite your nerves. “He left it at my apartment. Can you take me to him? So I can give it back.”

“You’d be better off turning it in to one of our administrators. The Colonel is very busy right now and—”

“Take me to him, please,” you repeat stubbornly, raised voice echoing off ivory drywall. 

“Miss, I'm only allowed to speak with you if you’re in immediate danger. I'm under strict orders not to facilitate any interaction with the Colonel.”

He’s going to hang up soon, you panic. And then your only chance is gone. 

A flare of anger heats your skin as you realize you don’t have an appointment to see your own boyfriend. The one who can pester you and break your boundaries with a barely apologetic smile, but shuts you out the second you try to do the same.

Channeling your tears from earlier—they still line your eyes, after all—you sniffle into the speaker. Desperate times… 

“What do you think will happen when I tell him you made me cry? You won’t be under any orders anymore,” you bait him quietly, relying on the fragile hope that Caleb was still as fiercely protective of you as he’d been before. 

The pregnant pause on the other line tells you you’d succeeded. “I…” he clears his throat. “Please arrive at the Skyhaven airport at your earliest convenience. I'll be there to take you to the Colonel.”

When Liam’s aircraft lands on the familiar floating island, you rush out with a muttered “thanks” and jam your thumb onto the sensor.

But as the doors slide open and you stomp inside, the silence you’re met with tells you Caleb isn’t home. 

Sighing heavily, you survey your surroundings: the spotless kitchen, barren like it hadn’t been used in weeks; the dust collecting on his most-used surfaces; the tray on the coffee table, missing its usual array of apples. Had he been eating? Had he been coming here at all?

Your worries carry you through the other rooms, but none hold the answers to your questions. 

And as you step into his bedroom, the place you were most likely to find a clue, you wish you hadn’t. 

Because there, hanging tauntingly on a familiar looking jewelry box, is Caleb’s dog tag. The chain he never went without. 

The ache in your chest becomes a gaping void. 

Blood rushes to your ears and makes them ring so loudly that you can’t hear the despondent noise you make. On unsteady feet, you lurch farther into the room and lower your trembling body onto the mattress. 

As you stare at the mahogany jewelry box, looming mockingly on the dresser, you think the walls spin around you. 

In all the years you’d known Caleb, he had never been one to just give up—so what about you was so condemnable that it finally made him?

He wasn’t here to answer. 

So you take the chain for what it is: resignation. Eviction. 

It feels like you shouldn’t be here anymore. Like you’re an intruder in a sacred space. Like maybe you shouldn’t have even made it in, but he just hadn’t had the time to axe your thumbprint from the system yet. 

You need to leave. That much is clear. But here, stranded in the sky, you don’t exactly have a getaway plan. 

Without the leverage of Caleb’s love, you doubt Liam would take too kindly to being threatened again, just hours after the first time. 

As fruitless minutes tick by, it’s clear that waiting is your only option. But as you curl up in the center of the bed, chest heaving with labored breaths, you no longer anticipate Caleb’s return. 

When your eyes blink open in the dead of night, you know he’s there before you see him.

The air in the room feels different. Heavy and charged, like just before a thunderstorm. 

Anything could happen when you face him. But he’s deprived you of so much lately, that at least something would. 

Shoving the thought to the front of your mind for motivation, you raise your head to find him in the darkness of the room, lit only by a lone streetlight. 

And the sight of him makes your stomach drop.

Caleb, uniform torn and tattered, slumps against the wall closest to the bed, eyes closed and head lowered. 

A smear of blood paints his cheek, and as you zero in on it, you notice the eyebags so dark they look like bruises. Like he hasn’t slept in days. 

But even with his eyes closed, you should know by now that you don’t have the time to ogle him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispers hoarsely. 

“Where else would I go?” 

And those violet irises find yours. 

“Do you regret it? That you have nowhere else to go?” he asks softly, bloodshot gaze searching your huddled form. Checking, like he always did. 

No is your immediate answer. But you figure you should ask him first. That way, when you say it, he might actually believe you. “What?”

“Do you regret what I’ve done to you?” he elaborates, voice dropping near the end. 

The explanation doesn’t help. “What have you done to me, Caleb?”

He winces at the phrasing, though he knows it’s not an accusation. 

Cocking his head cynically, he lets a hollow chuckle escape. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to go to that party. Guess that’s what I get for trying.” 

“What are you talking about?” you probe, shifting to the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“What’s wrong with me,” he mimics, “is that I’m trying to stay away from you. For your own sake.” 

“You weren’t there to see it. Hung up in another room, or outside, or something. It was the only time I lost sight of you,” he recalls bitterly. “And this guy started mouthin’ off about how fucked it was for us to be together. Said I was sick for the things I must’ve done to you.” 

A sliver of understanding eases the tension in your muscles. But you need to hear it from him. “And you believed him?” you ask, eyeing him warily. 

“It wasn't him who I had to believe. I already knew. Have known, for a while now, no matter how much I tried to pretend I didn’t. The way I thought my hands deserved to touch you—it’s a sin, isn’t it? One you shouldn’t have to carry. That’s why I left—so you could live a life unburdened by me.” 

At his words, an all too familiar irritation stirs within you. Alongside sadness that he’d thought it best to feel this way alone. 

Pushing forcefully off the bed, you kneel between his knees, gripping his bloodied face between your hands. “Who said you had permission to leave?” you ask lowly, and you hear his voice in yours. 

“I asked you what happened that night,” you continue. “More than once. And I'd have listened if you told me. Would’ve been there to tell you that none of it mattered. But you said it was nothing—another way to protect me, I guess. And then you left me on my doorstep, wondering how I’d hurt you.” 

Caleb’s mouth drops slightly, but you don’t let him interrupt. “When you said you would try, you overlooked one thing. Part of trying is considering how I feel. Like when I saw your necklace—how do you think I felt? I thought…you didn’t want me anymore. That you’d decided I was too big a burden for you,” you breathe, and when your voice breaks at the end, Caleb covers your hands with his.

“If your sin involves me, you don’t get to live through it alone. You pulled away from me without wondering if I wanted to be complicit. If I wanted to share it with you. You don’t get to make me a victim without asking if I feel like one. And I never have.”

He freezes at that, gazing up at you imploringly. When he finds what he’s looking for, he turns his head slightly, lips brushing your wrist in a hesitant kiss. “I know—” he swallows. “I know you feel ashamed sometimes. Of being with me, now, when I was who I was to you. Even if you don’t want to be, when we go out together, I can feel it.”

“You’re right,” you nod simply, and he fails to stifle a choked gasp. “But I don’t let it change anything.”

Now, it’s Caleb’s turn to ask. “What do you mean?”

“Remember Marley?” you start softly, stroking his tousled hair. “Girl I used to play dolls with when you were too busy? She asked about us, too. And I told her the truth: we’re together, and we’re happy, and our story is ours. It’s not just your choice, Caleb. I’m with you because I want the same. I always have.” 

And as much as you know he wants to believe it, to accept it and move on, things were never that simple with him. 

“You don’t understand,” he murmurs shakily, returning your hands to your lap as if they’ve burned him. “I can't…I've only ever wanted to keep you safe. No matter who I had to be to you. And when you let me have you—how I want to, how I’d wanted to…I wasn’t strong enough to turn you away. I’m not strong enough to do what’s best for you,” he whispers with glistening eyes.

Slowly, gently, you reach out to him a second time. To splay a hand on his exposed chest, to get him used to the feeling of your touch again. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” you murmur, stroking your thumb against him. “Because I think you’re very strong.” 

“I thought you were strong when you saved me from those bullies in middle school. Still remember the black eyes you gave them. When I saw that…I thought you were a hero. And I wanted to be just like you.” Pausing, you lean down to kiss his collarbone, and though he shudders, you take his pleading gaze as a sign to continue. 

“I thought you were strong when Gran got really sick, and you had to do everything. Cooking, cleaning, taking me to school. And you did it with a smile.” Giving him one of your own, you cradle his flushed face in your hands, stroking his darkening cheeks tenderly. Violet eyes watch you with disbelief—a reflection of six months ago, when you’d entrusted your first kiss to him. 

“And when you kissed me back that first time? When I felt how much you wanted to, how you kept it bottled up inside you for so long—I thought you were so strong,” you whisper, mouth hovering over his. “You’ve always been strong, Caleb. It’s why I love you so much.”

In time with his sharp inhale, you press your lips to his. But as large hands flex against your sides, he doesn’t respond to your touch. 

So you press harder, deeper, as if your kiss will awaken what’s dormant within him: his molten, unabashed need for you. The need that holds purity in its paradox, even if he doesn’t know it yet.

And when you circle your hand around his throat, where his necklace once collared him in your name, Caleb kisses you back. 

It’s an exploratory kiss, but a passionate one. As if your reacquainted lips are making up for lost time. 

You guide him with the steady suction of your lips, and when you tug at his frayed lapel, Caleb takes the lead. 

His tongue surges into your mouth, reclaiming what he’d missed, and you moan at the welcome intrusion. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, backing away slightly. “Sometimes I just wonder…if you’d be better off without me.” 

“I wouldn't,” you soothe, pulling him in for a reassuring peck. “You’re a part of me. I want you wherever I am, whichever version of you will have me.”

“All of them,” he mumbles against you. “And then some.”

And as you slip his hand under your shirt, there’s no reluctance in his tender grasp. Like he belongs there. 

Soft strokes on your bare shoulder wake you as the sun rises. 

“I missed seein’ you like this,” murmurs the voice you’d missed just as much. 

“And whose fault is that?” you chide, cutting your eyes to glare up at him playfully. 

“Mine,” he concedes instantly. “All mine.”

“Mhm. Speaking of,” you begin, stepping out of bed gingerly. “If you’re going to be my Caleb, there’s one more thing you need to do. Close your eyes,” you instruct. 

And Caleb complies—something that’s come easy the past six months. 

The room is silent for a moment, with only the distant sounds of jet planes piercing the air. 

Then, a soft clink. 

And as the mattress dips with your return to him, Caleb lifts his head instinctively. And the cool surface of metal slips around his neck. 

As Caleb spares you a glance from the passenger’s seat, the apple charm on his dog tag glints in the sunlight. 

Row after row of familiar houses comes into view, but you seem calm, this time. Unburdened. 

With some compliments and exaggerated enthusiasm, Sarah had been more than happy to host another party. And you’d been more than patient as you’d encouraged Caleb to attend. 

He’d been cautious, at first, for obvious reasons. But you didn’t dare push. 

So as the date loomed closer, he’d decided to try. 

And when you cross the threshold hand in hand to a sea of curious faces, the tension he expects to compress his pulsing heart never comes.

Instead, something kinder blossoms: pure, weightless pride.

[rynwrites4fun]

Across The Hall (2) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: You tried baking cookies for your boyfriend, but instead of a sweet surprise, your apartment quickly filled with smoke. The window you'd asked your boyfriend to fix weeks ago is still jammed shut, trapping the haze inside. Panicking, you rush across the hall and knock on your neighbor Michael’s door, hoping he can help.

Word Count: 3439

Warning: Age Gap (Mid 20s / Early 50s)

Author's Note: omg thank you for all the Across The Hall love. In no way I was expecting it to do numbers...The pressure is on now...yikes lol. More to come soon. (also happy teacher appreciation week!!!)- ryn

It had been a week or two since Michael saved your evening—and somehow, everything felt just a little different now.

The two of you had always exchanged the usual neighborly nods, the polite “hey” in the hallway or small talk here and there. But now, those brief moments have stretched into something more. Small talk in the elevator turned into real conversation—books, weekend plans, favorite takeout spots. More than once, you found yourselves lingering in the hallway long after reaching your doors, caught in easy banter that neither of you seemed in a rush to end.

Sometimes it happened in the lobby, a coffee in one hand, keys in the other, both of you half on your way somewhere—but never quite leaving. Other times it was on the front steps of the building, the evening airsoft, the streetlights humming above as you talked about everything and nothing. Conversations with Michael had a way of unfolding naturally, without effort or pressure, as if you’d known each other much longer than a few weeks.

There was a quiet comfort in it. A kind of attention he gave you that didn’t feel performative or polite—it just felt present. 

Sunday 7:10pm 

You were baking Aiden’s favorite cookies for tonight, hoping to lift his spirits. It had been a rough week for him at work—a particularly grueling case, the same one that made him cancel dinner just a week or two ago. You understood. That’s why you wanted everything to be perfect: soft centers, golden edges, just the way he liked them.

But something had gone terribly wrong.

Instead of comfort, you pulled ruin from the oven—cookies charred beyond recognition, blackened into something closer to charcoal than dessert. Smoke billowed out in thick, bitter clouds, curling through the kitchen as the acrid stench of burnt sugar and scorched flour filled the apartment.

Panicked, you’d tried the window—the window. The one Aiden had promised to get unjammed weeks ago. Still stuck. Of course.

The smoke detector began its shrill protest, echoing through your tiny space, refusing to be ignored. You waved at it with a dish towel, to no effect. The haze was thickening, your eyes stinging. With no other option, you rushed into the hallway and knocked on Michael’s door, your heart pounding hard enough to feel in your throat.

“Crap!” you muttered, glancing down at yourself in your embarrassingly loud pajamas.

Garfield. Everywhere. Orange, grumpy, judgmental Garfield.

You barely had time to regret your life choices before Michael opened his door halfway.

“Hi,” you said, breathless and flushed—partly from running to his door partly from mortification.

He took in the scene: you in your cartoon-themed PJ set, mismatched slippers, hair messily braided like you'd just rolled out of a nap you never intended to take.

“Uh—hey,” he replied, brow arching in amused curiosity. His gaze lingered a beat too long on the giant frowning cat across your chest. He opened his mouth—clearly about to say something, probably teasing—when a piercing beep cut him off.

Then another.

And another.

The unmistakable shriek of your smoke alarm.

Michael’s expression shifted. His eyes flicked past you, toward the open door of your apartment, where a gray haze curled into the hallway like a guilty secret. The acrid scent of burnt sugar and flour trailed after you like a cloud of shame.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone shifting, stepping forward slightly now.

You nodded a little too quickly. “Yeah—I mean, I’m fine. I was baking and I burned the cookies and now the alarm won’t stop—smoke everywhere—my window is jammed and I can’t get it open to air my apartment out and I thought maybe—”

You stopped, realizing you were rambling, words tumbling over each other in a frantic rush. Your hands flailed uselessly in the air as if gesturing could somehow undo the disaster or explain why you were standing in a hallway dressed like a sleep-deprived cartoon enthusiast in crisis.

Then he nodded. “Right. Okay.” 

You stepped aside as Michael brushed past, moving with calm purpose. Inside your apartment, the smoke was thicker than you realized—your eyes watered, and your throat caught with the stale bitterness of it.

Michael went over to your large window. 

“My boyfriend was supposed to unjam it for me a while ago,” you muttered, coughing slightly, unable to stop yourself from adding, “Guess he forgot.”

“Forgot, huh?” he said lightly. Sounds like a guy with a questionable sense of priorities, he thinks to himself. 

Michael noticed the fire escape outside, and his irritation toward your boyfriend grew with each passing second. The window was jammed shut. The fire escape, a possible lifeline, was completely inaccessible because of your boyfriend’s inaction. He should have unjammed the window when you asked, he thought, frustration building. What if there had been a real fire? What if your only escape route had been blocked because of his laziness? His jaw tightened, the nagging feeling that your boyfriend’s indifference could have put you in serious danger gnawing at him.

He didn’t say anything, but his gaze flickered to the fire escape for a moment longer than necessary. You were so close to something more than just inconvenience. You were this close to something much worse—and your boyfriend, the person you trusted most, hadn’t taken the problem seriously enough.

Shaking off the thought, he focused on the task in front of him. His brow furrowed in concentration, his hands steady and efficient as he worked at the stubborn window. His fingers gripped the edge, testing it, giving it a few sharp tugs. The frame creaked but didn’t move.

It wouldn’t budge. Michael rolled up his sleeves. 

Frustration flared again, but Michael swallowed it down. He was glad he was home. Glad he was here. It wasn’t supposed to feel like this—like fixing the window was more than just a neighborly favor. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed, the muscles in his forearms tightening with each practiced movement. There was something almost hypnotic about the way his hands worked—fluid, precise, like he’d done this a hundred times before. You quickly shook the thoughts away. And Michael was just your neighbor, a person you were slowly becoming friends with. 

Still, you weren’t blind. You could appreciate a handsome man when he was right in front of you—sleeves rolled up, fixing your window like it was the easiest thing in the world. There was an effortless competence to him, the kind that made it hard not to watch, even harder not to wonder.

The screech of the wood under his hands broke through his thoughts, and he pushed harder, silently willing the frame to give. He had no interest in playing the hero; he just didn’t want you to be at risk.

There was a soft click as the window finally loosened, the frame shifting ever so slightly. Michael exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, and with a final, firm push, the window gave way. It slid open with a satisfying whoosh, the cool air rushing in, sweeping the smoke from the room in a way that almost felt like a small victory.

You let out a soft sigh of relief as the room slowly began to clear. For a moment, you both stood there, letting the fresh air fill the space. The heavy, burnt scent seemed to lift with the smoke, leaving behind only the faintest trace of disaster.

He dusted off his hands on his jeans.“There. Crisis averted.”

“Thanks,” you said, your voice quieter now.

Michael gave you a quick, understanding glance, the tension in his shoulders easing now that the window finally slid open. “You’re welcome. Just…” He paused, eyes searching yours, his voice quieter now. “Be careful, okay? Don’t wait on him next time. If something’s broken, get it fixed.”

Then, with a quiet conviction that left no room for doubt, he added, “Or come find me. I’ll help you deal with it.”

There was a weight to his words, simple but solid—like a promise he meant to keep.

You blinked, processing his words, but the tone behind them hit you harder than you expected. “I will,” 

Michael’s eyes softened slightly, as though he could tell that wasn’t the only thing weighing on your mind. He took a small step back, nodding like he’d done his part as if that was enough. Then his eyes caught yours, held them. For a moment, neither of you moved. Something lingered in the silence—not tension, exactly, but something close to it.

You realized you were still staring.

He noticed too.

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the oven. “I’m usually not this much of a walking disaster.”

Michael gave a small laugh, just the corner of his mouth curling. “I don’t know. Garfield pajamas, scorched cookies, a smoke-filled apartment—it’s a strong aesthetic. Bold.”

You groaned, half-laughing. “I can’t even bake cookies without almost burning down my apartment.”

He chuckled again, the sound warm and easy, grounding. “Well, at least you didn’t burn down the whole apartment. That’s a win in my book.”

You gave a half-hearted laugh, your eyes drifting toward the still-hazy kitchen. The smell of burnt sugar clung stubbornly to the air, like a reminder you couldn’t quite scrub away. “Yeah,” you murmured, “I guess I’ve got that goin’ for me.”

Your gaze landed on the tray of blackened cookies still sitting on the stove—charred little offerings to a plan gone sideways. You groaned. “The cookies were supposed to be for Aiden. My boyfriend.”

Michael’s smile faltered—just briefly. It was subtle: the slight shift in his eyes, the faint tightening of his jaw. You didn’t notice.

“For Aiden,” he repeated, voice careful, neutral. It was the first time he’d heard the name.

Michael hadn’t officially met your boyfriend, but he already didn’t like him. Not after stepping in to salvage your evening when Aiden bailed, and certainly not now—knowing Aiden had left your window jammed, turning what should’ve been a harmless mishap into a real safety hazard. Still, Michael kept his growing dislike of your boyfriend to himself.

You nodded, a new flush of embarrassment creeping up your neck. “He’s coming by tonight. I thought if I made something sweet, it might... I don’t know. Lighten things up a little. He’s been really stressed lately—he’s a lawyer, working this huge case.” You trailed off, unsure whether to explain more, unsure whether you wanted to.

Michael didn’t push. Instead, he stepped closer to the stove, tilting his head slightly as he regarded the tray like it was some abstract piece of modern art.

After a moment, he glanced back at you with a crooked smile. “Well,” he said, “you tried. That counts for something.”

You let out a soft laugh, dragging a hand down your face. “Yeah. Tried and failed spectacularly.”

“I just wanted to do something kind… I should’ve just bought cookies. Way less risk involved. Now I’ve got a kitchen that smells like smoke and a tray of cookies that could probably be used as a weapon.”

Without missing a beat, Michael walked over to the stove and picked up one of the blackened cookies between two fingers. He let out a low whistle, examining it like an artifact.

Then, with mock solemnity, he banged it against the edge of the tray.

A loud clack echoed through the room.

“Oh yeah,” he said, brow furrowed in theatrical seriousness, “this could take someone down flat. Definitely not FDA approved.”

You burst out laughing—real, full laughter that caught you off guard. It rang out in the smoky air, cutting through the heaviness that had settled in your chest. For a moment, everything felt lighter.

Michael smiled, small and satisfied, like he’d achieved exactly what he’d intended. He liked your laugh—unfiltered, unguarded, genuine.

Without a word, he turned and began dumping the ruined cookies into the trash. He slid the tray into the sink and ran a thin stream of water over the scorched metal, his movements fluid and easy, like he’d done it a hundred times before.

Like he’d done it here.

Like he belonged.

You watched him for a moment, the ease of his movements, the quiet competence. The way he didn’t try to make a big deal of helping—but didn’t hesitate, either.

“I promise I don’t usually invite people over just to make them throw out my failures,” you said, smiling, the lightness of the moment creeping in despite the earlier chaos.

Michael chuckled softly, wiping his hands on a towel before leaning back against the counter, his posture easy. “Good,” he said, his voice warm, “because I only throw out cookies for people I like.”

The words hung in the air for a beat—just long enough for the weight of them to settle, but not enough to make the moment feel heavy. He looked at you then, his expression not quite teasing, not quite serious. "Besides," he added, a playful glint in his eyes, "they weren’t a failure. They were… experimental."

His arms crossed, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “So. What kind of cookies were these supposed to be? Just so I know what I almost died for.”

You rolled your eyes, the humor lightening your mood. “Chocolate chip. Or… supposed to be.”

Michael nodded solemnly, clearly indulging in the joke. “A tragic loss.”

“Well…” he started, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “If you ever feel like baking again—with supervision—my oven works. And my windows open.”

The offer caught you by surprise, and you blinked, unsure how to respond. Michael pushed off from leaning on the counter, his posture relaxed but still carrying that same easy confidence.

“You’re offering to chaperone my cookie redemption arc?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He smiled, a flicker of mischief in his eyes. “Strictly for safety reasons. You know, some of these kitchen appliances could be dangerous without proper supervision.”

You couldn't help but grin at his playful tone. "Well, in that case," you said, trying to keep the mood light, "I’ll take you up on it. Couldn’t hurt to have a backup plan for next time. But just so you know, if we’re going the safety route, I’m going to need you in full protective gear—apron, oven mitts, maybe even goggles."

Michael chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. “I’m ready. Just let me know when you want to give it another shot. I’ll bring the fire extinguisher, too, just in case.”

"Deal," you said with a nod, feeling something warm and easy settle between you two. "Next time, we’ll aim for cookies that aren’t hazardous to public health."

"Looking forward to it," he said, his smile softening, like he genuinely meant it.

And as he turned to head toward the door, his hand lingered on the doorframe for a moment, resting there like he was holding onto something, before he looked back at you one last time. A nod, a small smile, and then he was gone, retreating to his side of the hall without another word. The door clicked shut behind him

The room seemed just a little brighter, the air a little clearer, like the chaos had been swept away by the easy camaraderie. The weight of the evening shifted, and for the first time, you weren’t thinking about the burnt cookies or the mess you’d made—you were just looking forward to the next time you’d share a laugh with Michael.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d get those cookies right.

—-

You stood there for a moment, surrounded by the fading smoke and the lingering scent of burnt cookies, staring out the now-open window. The air was cooler, fresher, but something still felt heavy inside you—like the weight of all the things you’d left unsaid.

Then, a knock.

It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t hurried. Just… there.

You already knew who it was.

You wiped your hands on a dish towel and opened the door.

Aiden stood there, phone in hand, earbuds still in place, barely looking up as he gave you a quick, distracted peck on the lips. “Hey. Sorry I’m late,” he mumbled, already starting to step past you.

“I made cookies,” you said, gesturing vaguely behind you, your tone lighter than you felt. “Well… tried to.”

He sniffed the air, finally looking up, his expression flat. “Smells like you burned them.”

You nodded once, your face giving nothing away. “Yeah. Window was jammed. Whole place is filled with smoke.”

Aiden frowned, stepping further into the apartment without asking, moving through your space with that casual confidence he always had. Like nothing had happened. Like the last few weeks hadn’t been filled with moments you’d asked him for help—moments he hadn’t shown up for.

He glanced into the trash, saw the tray of ruined cookies, and let out a soft, almost dismissive laugh. “Damn. These are toast.”

You didn’t bring up that they were supposed to be for him.

Your arms crossed slowly, more to steady yourself than anything else, but Aiden didn’t seem to notice the shift in the air, the distance that had been creeping in between you two for a while now.

“I asked you to fix the window three weeks ago,” you said quietly, your voice cool now. The words weren’t angry—just resigned.

Aiden looked back at you, confusion flickering in his eyes. “I said I’d get to it. You know how busy work’s been.”

You nodded once, your gaze steady and a little too composed. “Right.”

He didn’t catch the edge in your voice, the small but significant change. He never did.

He glanced at the open window, then back at you with a lazy shrug. “I see you managed to get it open, so problem solved, right?”

You didn’t bring up Michael. Didn’t mention how he had been the one to help you fix it, to clear the smoke, to make sure you were okay.

No, you just stood there, arms crossed, and tried not to feel like a stranger in your own space.

The silence stretched between you.

Aiden, oblivious to the tension in the air, tossed his jacket onto the couch with a carefree grunt, already making his way to the TV. He didn’t even ask if you wanted to watch anything, or if you were still upset about the window, or even the cookies that had failed so spectacularly.

He just pulled out his phone again, scrolling through it while his fingers idly pressed buttons on the remote. The quiet hum of the television started up, filling the space between you, but not really bridging anything.

You stood there, watching him settle into the couch, his legs stretching out comfortably like he owned the place—like everything was still exactly how it had been, no changes, no questions.

Your eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than usual, noting the small, absent-minded way he took up space. How he could just slip in and out of your life with that same half-attached, half-carefree attitude that used to feel like freedom but now felt like something else. Something far less generous.

"Want to watch this?" he asked, his voice light, already glancing at you from over the rim of his phone. The question was almost an afterthought, like an extension of the routine, as if nothing was out of place. As if you hadn't just stood there in silence, the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you.

You didn’t answer right away, just letting the question hang in the air. The light flickered from the TV screen, casting a dull glow over the room that seemed to only accentuate the distance between you two. Finally, you sighed softly, letting your arms drop to your sides. Maybe the moment had passed. Maybe this was just what it had become.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, almost too quietly. "Sure." You walked over and sat beside him on the couch, not really focusing on the TV, but on the way the space felt different now. On the way you had to settle yourself into the silence. A silence that didn’t feel comfortable anymore. Not like it used to.

Aiden didn’t notice. He never did.

The silence between you wasn’t just the absence of words. It was the absence of anything that felt like it mattered.

He got lost in whatever was on the screen, and you were just sitting there, staring at the flickering images that blurred together, wondering if you could still pretend it was all fine.

tag: @im-nowhere-but-also-somewhere @beebeechaos @antisocialfiore @delicatetrashtree @xxxkat3xxx @homebytheharbor

Across The Hall (1) (2)

[spideyjimin]

Break my heart | jjk (teaser)

—  pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x female reader 

—  genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, kind of friends to enemies, and enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut 

— rating: 18+ 

—  summary: jungkook, a mask, and a party. three things that made you weak enough to break all the rules of friendship. you did with him what you usually do with strangers… but he was never supposed to be a one-night stand. there’s too much history. too much comfort. and now, the aftermath of that wild and steamy night has made living with him unbearable, but also impossible to walk away. because you’re falling. fast. deep. and maybe deep enough to let each other break your own hearts.

—  words: 535 for the teaser

—  warnings: tension, flirting, strong language, and implied sex

—  author’s note: soooo i've already worked on this & i'm posting the little teaser to give you a little taste of what's coming 🫣 this is the college au i teased you about some time ago & i've been working on it for a little while, but i don't know when it's going to be released. this fics is inspired by many shows and movies i've watched lately (because i've done only that for the past 2 months 😫) i hope you'll enjoy it ❤️

— you can find another teaser here

— join the taglist ✨

“Will you be home at two?” you ask as he walks past you.  

“Why?” he says, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk like he couldn’t care less.

“Some guy is coming,” you answer, your eyes following his strong figure.

You watch his muscles flex as he reaches for a glass. It’s almost unfair how someone so infuriating can look that good. Buff. Strong. Dangerous in all the right ways. If he weren’t such an asshole, you might just let him ruin you again.

“Who?” he asks without looking at you.  

“Why do you want to know?” you counter, eyes glued on him.

He avoids your gaze, pouring the milk like the carton suddenly became fascinating.

“Because you’re the one talking about it,” he mumbles

A devious smirk grows on your face as you step closer—dangerously close now. He straightens up, facing you, eyes finally locking with yours.

“Are you looking for a guy?” you ask, cocking your head with a teasing grin.

“What?” his scowl is immediate, and you try as hard as possible to repress the smile growing on your face.  

You almost laugh at his expression. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile him up. But you hold it in. No cracks. Not yet. You're about to push him further. Annoying him is your new favorite pastime.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” you tease him.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking his milk. Otherwise, he would have choked. His brows draw together, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not gay,” he says flatly, casually even, but his tone is clipped.

“Jungkook,” you shrug innocently. “You can be whoever you want. I support you, bestie.”

He rolls his eyes and drinks a sip of milk from the cup. Despite being annoyed, his heart skips a beat when you call him ‘bestie’. He hasn’t heard that nickname since that infamous night. You’ve called him jerk, asshole, idiot, stupid, fuckboy, dickhead, and many other things like that for the past three weeks.

“Why are you insisting?”

A little mustache of milk forms on his upper lip when he removes the cup. He looks absolutely adorable, like a little boy trapped in the body of a man who could destroy you with a single touch.

“Because I get it,” you smile. “I like men too.”

He wipes the milk mustache off with the back of his hand, but this time, the playful glint in his eyes disappears. He’s serious now.

“Stop it, yn,” his voice is sharp, like a warning. “You know I don’t like men.”

“Me?” you pretend to be innocent. “I don’t know anything. You’re very mysterious lately.”

Without a warning, he steps closer—your heart hammers in your chest with this sudden proximity. The air thickens between you, and you feel his hot and minty breath against your cheek. This reminds you of that wild night in the ballroom

“Yes, you do,” he whispers, voice dropping into something husky. His lips graze your ear. “And if you’ve forgotten, I can remind you.”

His fingers brush your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can make you moan my name again…” he pauses for a split second. “Or scream it, if you’d prefer.”

[kxsagi]

hii, i hope you're doing well ^^ I really enjoy your style of writing :) i was wondering if you can make my request with tooth rotting fluff the reader's love is so gentle and she takes time trying to understand her S/O and she will always ask for permission to touch them even if they given her permission already, the reader cares for her S/O so gently and delicate like something so dear to her life? Feel free to do this with any blue lock characters ^^ and you can also ignore this if it's way too much work haha, another thing is that i love your works and please take some rest whenever you need it.

“𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞”

a/n: hi! i'm doing well and i hope you are too beautiful :) and thank you so much!!! take rest whenever you need it as well

this was some good needed fluff

ft. itoshi rin, isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, chigiri hyoma, kaiser michael, shidou ryusei, itoshi sae, ness alexis, niko ikki, hiori yo

itoshi rin

at first, he doesn't understand why you're so soft with him. you’re careful when touching his hand, always asking “can i hold you?��� like he’ll shatter if you don't ask. 

it overwhelms him. the kind of love that doesn't demand, doesn’t press, but patiently waits for him to be ready. 

you’d brush hair from his face with trembling fingers and say, “is this okay?” even after years of dating, and he’d nod, ears pink, mumbling, “you don’t have to ask.” 

“i want to,” you’d smile. “you’re important to me.” 

that sentence alone makes his chest hurt (in a good way). 

sometimes he stares at you while you're fussing over his bruises, and all he can think is how the hell did i get this lucky? 

isagi yoichi

he melts like butter in the sun. absolutely smitten with how gently you love him. 

the first time you tucked a blanket around him after a long match, whispering, “can i kiss your forehead?” he blinked at you like you'd just proposed. 

he’s not used to being treated like he’s fragile, but you do it so sincerely that it never feels emasculating. just loving. 

you’ll brush your fingers over his knuckles and ask, “can i?” even though you’ve kissed him a million times, and he’ll smile like it’s the first time every time. 

he tries to match your softness. fails most of the time because he’s clumsy with words, but the love shows in how tightly he holds your pinky when you're walking together. 

bachira meguru

thinks your gentleness is the best thing to ever happen to him. 

he’s so used to loud, chaotic love that your careful affection hits different. it makes him slow down. breathe. 

when you cup his face and softly say, “can i kiss you right here?” pointing to his cheek, his grin goes all lopsided and shy. 

“why do you always ask?” he teases, nose bumping yours. 

“because you’re someone i never want to take for granted.” 

he’ll blink, then full-body tackle hug you like a golden retriever in love. “you’re my favorite human.” 

you take care of him in the little things: asking if he wants to be held, if he’s overstimulated, if he needs quiet or chaos, and he falls a little more in love every time. 

nagi seishiro

was confused at first. “you can just touch me, y’know. i’m fine with it.” 

but when you still ask every single time – "can i sit closer?" "can i touch your hair?" – he realizes something. 

you don’t do it because you think he’ll say no. you do it because you respect him. you love him with your whole heart, but never assume. 

“you’re so… careful,” he murmurs once as you gently rub lotion on his sore hands. 

“you’re important to me. and i want you to feel safe with me.” 

he didn’t even know he needed to feel safe until you made it so easy. 

now he’ll pout if you don’t ask first. “you forgot to ask,” he says, even though he’s already curled up in your lap like a sleepy cat. 

mikage reo

falls so stupidly hard for your gentle love. 

he’s used to grand gestures and flash, but your love is quiet and reverent, and it wrecks him. 

when you brush your thumb over his temple and whisper, “can i hold you for a little while?” he just nods and pulls you in like he’ll never let go. 

he’s amazed at how someone can be so kind, so considerate, and yet still make him feel absolutely cherished. 

you remember all the little things – asking before touching his hair, checking if he wants space after a stressful day – and it makes him fall in love a little harder every day. 

sometimes he’ll just stare at you and go, “you’re seriously the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

chigiri hyoma

you love him like he’s made of porcelain, and it gets him every single time. 

he acts cool about it – rolls his eyes when you ask for permission to touch his hair – but the tips of his ears go pink and he can’t stop smiling. 

after injuries and fear of fragility, your tenderness heals something deeper in him. 

“you can touch me,” he’ll whisper. “you don’t have to ask.” 

“i know,” you smile, “but i like knowing you still want me to.” 

that? that makes him blush so hard he covers his face with a pillow. 

he feels like a beloved treasure when he’s with you, and it makes his heart ache in the best way. 

kaiser michael

used to flirty, shallow affection, most times none, so your pure, patient love absolutely unravels him. 

you treat him like he’s so much more than his ego or his game. 

“can i touch your hair?” you ask, even after months together. and he just stares, like you’re something otherworldly. 

“you already know the answer,” he says, softer than he means to. 

“i want to hear it anyway.” 

you care for him like he’s someone worth loving for who he is, not what he shows, and for the first time, he believes it. 

when you hold his hand with both of yours and treat it like something precious, he suddenly forgets how to flirt. he’s just… quiet, overwhelmed, grateful. 

shidou ryusei

surprisingly receptive to your gentle love, even if he plays it off with grins and jokes. 

“asking permission? what is this, kindergarten?” he smirks. 

but the way he goes quiet when you softly say, “can i hold your hand?” gives him away. 

you’re the only person who touches him like he’s not a weapon, just a boy who wants to be held. 

sometimes, in rare moments of vulnerability, he’ll whisper, “you’re the only one who makes me feel... human.” 

and when you cradle his face like he’s something beautiful instead of dangerous, he leans into your palms like they’re the safest place on earth. 

itoshi sae

at first? he's confused. suspicious, even. 

he’s used to people either putting him on a pedestal or wanting something from him, so when you gently tuck his hair behind his ear and whisper, “can i touch you?”, he just blinks. like, actually short-circuits. 

“you’re already doing it,” he mumbles. but his voice comes out softer than he intends. 

and you just smile and say, “i still want to ask. you matter to me.” 

and that? that undoes him. 

you treat him like he’s not a prodigy, not a golden boy, but someone worth loving gently. and that’s something he didn’t know he needed. 

when you ask, “can i kiss you?” even after you've kissed him dozens of times, he’ll whisper, “yeah… but don’t stop asking.” 

he doesn’t say it outright, but he lives for the way you love him like something fragile. because sometimes, deep down, he feels like he is. 

he’ll rest his head in your lap during quiet nights, pretending to scroll on his phone. but the second you whisper, “can i play with your hair?”, his screen’s forgotten and he’s quietly nodding, eyes closing, letting himself exist in your love. 

it takes time, but eventually, he starts asking too. awkwardly. stiffly. like: “can i hold your hand?” “can i lean on you?” “can i stay over tonight?” 

all while pretending to be nonchalant, but his ears are burning, and he gets so soft when you say yes like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

ness alexis

he’s so touch-starved and desperate for validation that when you treat him with gentle respect, he thinks he’s dreaming. 

you’ll brush your fingers along his arm and softly ask, “is this okay?” and he just blinks, stunned, because no one’s ever cared enough to ask. 

he says “yes” every time – quick, eager, needy – but the way you keep asking anyway? it makes his heart ache in the best way. 

“you’re so careful with me…” he murmurs one night as you tuck a blanket around his shoulders. “like i’m someone who matters.” 

“you are,” you say it simply, like it’s fact. 

and ness hides his face in your shoulder because he’s never felt so loved before.

he starts to mirror your habits – asking “can i hug you?” or “can i play with your hair?” – because you’ve made him believe love can be soft and mutual. 

niko ikki

gets really flustered at first. like, blushing to the tips of his ears when you ask, “can i hold your hand?” 

“y-you don’t need to ask,” he stammers, already squeezing your fingers. 

but when you keep doing it, every time, even for the smallest touches, he gets it. 

you don’t ask because you doubt, you ask because you respect him. and that’s what makes him fall so hard for you. 

niko’s love language becomes sitting in comfortable silence, your pinkies linked, as you glance over and softly whisper, “can i lean on you?” 

he nods every time, too stunned to speak. 

“you treat me like i’m precious,” he says one day, voice quiet. 

“you are,” you reply, just as gently, and niko short-circuits on the spot. 

hiori yo

oh, you destroy him (in the softest way possible). 

he’s always been scared of getting too close, of being a burden. but then you come along – so patient, so kind – and ask, “is this okay?” before every hug, every kiss, every forehead touch. 

and hiori just… melts. fully, completely, beautifully. 

you cup his face with both hands and ask, “can i hold you like this?” and he’s already nodding, eyes glossy with emotion. 

you ask him if he’s okay when he zones out. you check if he wants to be alone or held. you don’t assume, you care. 

“you make me feel safe,” he confesses one night, voice barely a whisper. “like… no one’s ever done that before.” 

you brush your thumb under his eye, smiling softly. “you deserve to be loved that way.” 

and hiori hugs you tighter than he ever has before, like he never wants to let go. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[gf2bellamy]

hii i absolutely LOVE your writing,, its just so perfect🤭

may i please request a story with spencer realizing he has a crush on reader and so he starts getting nervous and stutter-y around reader. so then reader gets a little upset thinking she did something wrong and they end up talking about what’s happening and it leads to a confession + kiss

thank you!!💖💖

crush — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) content warnings: a tiny bit of angst bc reader thinks she did something wrong a/n: hii !! this request is so cute <3 i hope you like this <333

Spencer had it bad. 

Like, really bad. 

It wasn’t even up for debate anymore—he was completely, undeniably, and overwhelmingly crushing on you.

Right now, he was sitting at his desk, staring at you as you leaned casually against it, deep in conversation with Emily at her desk across from his. You were animated, gesturing with your hands as you made a passionate argument. 

“No, look, the movie sucks,” you insisted, pointing a finger at Emily. “You have to read the book. It’s so much better.” 

Emily rolled her eyes but smirked, clearly enjoying the debate. “I don’t know, I think the movie has its moments—” 

“Absolutely not.” You cut her off, shaking your head. “The book has so much more depth. The movie just—” You let out a dramatic sigh, exasperated. “It butchers it.” 

Spencer wasn’t even listening to Emily. He was too busy watching you, completely entranced. 

Two days ago, he’d come to a life-altering realization. 

He liked you. 

Not in the casual, oh-she’s-nice-to-be-around kind of way. No. This was the heart-racing, brain-melting, can’t-think-straight-when-you-smile-at-him kind of way. 

And it had all started with a cup of coffee. 

You had placed it in front of him, your fingers brushing his for a fleeting moment as he reached for it. A harmless, everyday interaction—except that it wasn’t harmless. Because then, you had smiled at him. Soft and warm. 

“New tie?” you had asked, tilting your head slightly as you pointed at the green tie he was wearing. 

Spencer had looked down at it, momentarily forgetting how words worked. “Oh—uh—yeah. Yeah, I got it yesterday.” 

You had grinned. “Looks good on you. I like it.” 

And then, as if your words hadn’t already short-circuited his brain, you had reached out—just for a second—adjusting the fabric between your fingers before turning away and heading back to your desk. 

That was the moment. The exact second Spencer knew he was doomed. 

And now? Two days later, he was struggling. 

Struggling to focus. Struggling to act normal. Struggling to not stare at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the entire world—which, let’s be honest, you were. 

“Spence.” 

Your voice pulled him from his thoughts, and he blinked, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you were. You had turned to him now, one hand resting lightly on his arm as you smiled. 

“Tell her the book is better than the movie,” you said, tilting your head toward Emily. “Back me up here.” 

Spencer knew, logically, that he had said those exact words to you a few weeks ago. He agreed with you. He had data, facts, and literary analysis to support the claim. It was an easy argument. 

And yet— 

He was completely, entirely tongue-tied. 

You were looking at him expectantly, your touch burning through the fabric of his sleeve like a brand. 

“I—uhm—I think—” He swallowed, feeling his face heat up. 

You frowned slightly, confused by his sudden inability to form a coherent sentence. 

He needed to get it together. 

“Yes,” he finally forced out, clearing his throat. “Uh, the book is—definitely better. Than the movie.” 

You grinned, triumphant. “See? Told you.” 

Emily just smirked at Spencer, amusement flickering in her eyes. 

You, then , watched as Spencer quickly withdrew his hand from your touch, avoiding your eyes like it physically pained him to look at you. 

And over the next day, it kept happening. 

It was subtle at first—small moments that could’ve easily been brushed off as coincidences. But then they started piling up. 

Like when you were working on the geographical profile together. You had been standing close to him, pointing at a section of the map, asking for his input. But instead of responding immediately, Spencer had frozen. 

Completely. 

You had glanced up, expecting one of his usual rapid-fire responses, filled with statistics and insightful observations. But nothing came. Instead, he stood there, his jaw slightly clenched, his fingers gripping the edge of the table.

You had frowned, waiting. 

A long, awkward silence stretched between you until someone else had walked by, snapping him out of it. He mumbled a quick, barely audible response before abruptly walking away. 

Then there was the night the team went out for drinks. You had slid into a booth at the bar, expecting Spencer to take the seat beside you—like he always did. It was a habit. Something that just was. 

Except this time, he didn’t. 

He sat at the far end of the table, wedging himself between JJ and Rossi, not even acknowledging you. 

That was when the doubts started creeping in. 

Had you done something wrong? Had you said something to upset him? 

You replayed the past week in your mind, searching for anything that might have caused this shift. But there was nothing. At least, nothing you could think of. 

Still, it didn’t stop the sinking feeling in your chest every time Spencer avoided your gaze, every time he hesitated before answering you, every time he refused to sit near you. 

And now, back at Quantico, the case closed, reports needing to be filed, you sat at your desk, watching him. 

The office was quieter than usual—most of the team had taken the morning off to rest, leaving only you and Spencer to handle the paperwork, just as you always did. 

Except this time, Spencer wasn’t talking to you. 

He sat across the room, his eyes fixed on his files, his pen moving rapidly across the paper. And still—not once—did he look up at you. 

Your fingers curled slightly against the report in front of you, a dull ache settling in your chest. 

The silence between you was suffocating. 

Hours passed, the only sounds filling the room were the scratch of pens against paper and the occasional shuffle of files. It was unnatural—terribly unnatural. The two of you were never this quiet around each other. 

Spencer wanted to talk to you. He always wanted to talk to you. But every time he opened his mouth, he managed to embarrass himself. So, he just... stopped trying. 

And then there was the other problem—his newfound hyper-awareness of you. 

Every touch, no matter how small, felt like an electric current running through his skin. Like when the two of you were sitting in the back of the SUV on the way back from a case, and your knee had accidentally brushed against his. It had been nothing to you, a completely normal, casual thing. But to him? To him, it had set his entire body on fire. 

Or when you touched his arm , casually, the way you always did—except now, it wasn’t just casual to him. Now, it was overwhelming. Too much. 

So he did what he thought was best—he avoided it. Avoided you. 

It was time to leave, and coincidentally, both of you started packing your bags at the same time. 

Somehow, despite everything, you still moved in sync. 

It was a habit at this point. You always left work together, falling into step beside one another like second nature. Some nights, you’d end up at the movies, where Spencer would hesitantly—almost shyly—share his food with you. Something he never did with anyone else. Not with his germophobia. Not even with the team. 

But with you it had never been a problem. 

Other nights, you’d wind up at his apartment, curled up on his couch, just hanging out. Just you and him. And in hindsight, Spencer supposed he should’ve seen this coming. 

Should’ve realized that whatever this was—whatever you were to him—wasn’t just friendship. 

Maybe he’d been crushing on you all along. 

The two of you walked to the elevator, the air thick with awkwardness. You exchanged shy smiles, unsure of what to say or do.

Finally, you both spoke at the same time. 

"Are you okay?" 

The words tumbled out of your mouths in perfect unison, and for a moment, you both froze, staring at each other. Then you both chuckled awkwardly, the sound breaking the tension, just for a second. 

“Go ahead,” Spencer nodded at you, pressing the button to call the elevator.  

“You—just... I feel like I haven’t talked to you properly in ages,” you admitted, a nervous laugh escaping as you fiddled with the strap of your bag. 

Spencer looked away quickly, a guilty blush creeping up his neck. 

Oh god, why couldn’t he just act normal around you? 

“Did I do something wrong?” You blurted out, suddenly worried. "Because I—I’m not entirely sure what it was, but you haven’t been looking at me, or talking to me, and I’m just—” 

Before you could ramble on any longer, Spencer cut you off. His voice was a little too loud, too eager. 

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong!” He shook his head quickly, almost desperately, as if trying to reassure you. His wide eyes met yours, and there was a softness in them. “I promise.” 

The elevator doors slid open, and the two of you stepped inside. 

You pressed the button to the ground floor, still watching him, trying to make sense of everything. 

“So, what is it then?” you asked, your voice more hesitant now, as the elevator began its descent. 

Spencer bit his lip, his fingers nervously tapping against the strap of his bag. What was he supposed to say? That he had a huge crush on you, but he couldn’t even stand to be near you without fumbling through his words and avoiding your gaze? It sounded so stupid when he thought about it. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, staring at the doors in front of him as the elevator descended slowly. His mouth opened, but no words came out. 

“See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” you pointed at him, a hint of teasing in your voice, but the concern still lingered. “You’re acting like this because something’s going on, and I’m just—I don’t know what it is.” 

Spencer’s heart raced.

The doors finally opened, and you both headed towards the exit , where you stepped out into the chilly night air. You instinctively pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, waiting for him to speak. 

Spencer hesitated again. His mind was spinning.

“No, I swear it’s not you,” Spencer muttered, tugging on the strap of his satchel, trying to buy himself some time. “It’s just I—I…” 

You waited, eyes fixed on him, your breath fogging in the cold air. You were getting impatient, and the more time passed, the more you started to worry that whatever had been going on was something you had no control over. Something that was maybe your fault. 

You were now standing by your car, watching him. Spencer looked torn, his fingers gripping the strap of his satchel tightly, his body tense like he was debating whether to run or stay. His lips parted slightly, and then, as if he couldn’t hold it in anymore, the words tumbled out. 

“I like you.” His voice was quiet.

For a moment, you just stared at him, confusion flickering across your face. 

“I… didn’t realize you disliked me until now?” You frowned slightly, your voice uncertain, trying to make sense of what he was saying. 

Spencer’s eyes widened in panic. “Wait—no!” He rushed to correct himself, shaking his head frantically. “That’s not what I meant—I didn’t mean that.” 

His breath came out in a nervous puff of air, his cheeks burning red as he struggled to find the right words. 

“I mean—I like you. Like, like like you.” His voice dropped to a mumble, the last part barely above a whisper. “Like, I have a crush on you.” 

He swallowed hard, his heart hammering in his chest as he finally said it. 

And then, silence. 

His eyes darted to you hesitantly, searching your face for a reaction, his stomach twisting with anticipation. 

You stood frozen. Did he just say what you think he said? 

“I… what?” you blinked, your breath hitching. 

Spencer’s face was already bright red, his hands fidgeting nervously at his sides. He looked like he wanted to disappear into the pavement, like he regretted saying anything at all. His voice had been so quiet at the end, barely above a whisper, but you heard him. 

He liked you. Like liked you. 

“I have a crush on you,” he repeated, this time slightly louder, but his voice was still laced with hesitation. His eyes flickered between yours and the ground, as if he was trying to gauge your reaction but couldn’t bear to look for too long. “That’s… that’s why I’ve been acting so weird.” 

A rush of emotions hit you all at once. Relief. Surprise. And something else—something warm, something thrilling. 

You let out a small breathy laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “Spencer, you’ve been avoiding me for days because you have a crush on me?” 

He winced slightly. “Yes?” 

A smile tugged at your lips. The pieces started falling into place—the nervous stammering, the awkward silences, the way he’d flinched at even the smallest touches. You had spent the entire week wondering if you’d somehow upset him when, in reality, he was just… flustered. 

Over you. 

It was almost funny. No—it was funny. 

Spencer watched you carefully, his anxiety spiking at your silence. He had just spilled his feelings to you in the most awkward way possible, and now you were just standing there, staring at him with this unreadable look. He braced himself for rejection, for you to awkwardly brush it off, for you to tell him that you didn’t feel the same way— 

Instead, you smiled. 

And then you laughed. 

Spencer blinked. “Are you—are you laughing at me?” He sounded both confused and slightly horrified. 

You quickly shook your head, even though you were still grinning. “No! No, I swear, I’m not laughing at you.” You bit your lip to stifle another giggle, but it wasn’t working. “It’s just—you’ve been torturing yourself over this ?” 

Spencer huffed, looking away. “I wouldn’t call it torture—” 

“You literally stopped making eye contact with me.” 

“That’s—okay, that’s fair.” He sighed. “I just… I didn’t know how to act. Every time I tried to talk to you, I ended up embarrassing myself, and I figured it would be easier if I just… didn’t.” 

You softened at that. 

“Spence,” you said gently, reaching for his hand before he could overthink it. The second your fingers brushed his, you felt him stiffen. But he didn’t pull away. “You know you could’ve just told me, right?” 

He let out a breath, finally meeting your eyes. “I was afraid that if I told you… things would change.” 

You squeezed his hand lightly, feeling a rush of fondness for him. His brain was the most brilliant one you’d ever known, but sometimes he made things so complicated. 

“Well, things are going to change,” you admitted, watching his expression closely. 

His heart stuttered. “Oh.” 

A flicker of panic flashed across his face, and you quickly squeezed his hand again before he spiraled. 

“Not in a bad way,” you reassured him, stepping a little closer. You tilted your head, smiling softly. “I like you too, Spencer.” 

Spencer’s breath caught. “You…?” 

“Mhm.” 

He blinked rapidly, like he was trying to process your words, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility that you might feel the same way. 

And then—oh. 

Oh. 

His entire body relaxed, the tension melting from his shoulders. He let out a breathy laugh, running his free hand through his hair as he shook his head. 

You smiled as you leaned back against your car, watching the relief wash over Spencer.

He stared at you, his eyes flickering between your own and your lips, and you could practically see the thoughts racing through his mind.

Spencer swallowed, his hands fidgeting at his sides. And then, as if the rush of confidence from his confession hadn’t completely worn off yet, he asked, “Can—can I kiss you?” 

Your stomach flipped at his words, your smile widening. “Thought you’d never ask.” 

Spencer exhaled something that sounded like half a laugh, half a breath of relief, before you reached for him, your fingers curling gently around the fabric of his cardigan as you tugged him toward you.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands hovering for only a second before settling on your cheeks. His fingers were warm despite the cold air.

His fingertips barely grazing your skin like he was memorizing the shape of you. His thumbs brushed your cheeks, and for a second, he just looked at you—like he wanted to take his time, like he wanted to remember everything about this moment before it even happened.

Then, finally, he leaned in. 

The first touch of his lips was soft, almost tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn’t—when you kissed him back just as eagerly—he let himself relax. His hands cupped your face more firmly, his body leaning just slightly into yours.

You sighed against him, your hands sliding up to rest against his shoulders, your fingers gently threading into the curls at the nape of his neck. That was all it took. You felt him shiver slightly under your touch, a quiet hum of contentment vibrating in his chest.

When you finally pulled away for air, your foreheads rested together, both of you breathless but smiling.

Spencer opened his eyes, his pupils slightly blown, a soft, dazed smile tugging at his lips.

“I can’t believe that just happened,” he murmured.

You chuckled, your hands still resting against his neck. “You really thought I didn’t like you back?”

He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. “I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

You brushed your thumb along his cheek, tilting your head playfully. “Well, you should’ve. Because I really like you, Spencer.”

His smile widened, something utterly adorable in the way his entire face lit up at your words.

“I like you too,” he said again, as if he still couldn’t believe he was allowed to say it out loud.

You grinned. “Yeah, I think I got that part.”

[kikidoul]

── NEEDY DISTRACTION.

ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ 심재윤 x fem! reader ᥫ᭡ warning explicit sexual content established relationship not proofread unprotected sex (wrap it up pls) cockwarming needy! jake (what else is new) usage of petnames degrading (usage of the word slut like twice?) hair pulling . . .!? 1093 — mlist.

note. hope you know jake at coachella changed my life and opened a new world to me. i seriously need to focus on desire unleashed whoops. taglist. @tfwbluu @hoonstqr @riqomi @bloomiize

To Jake, this was pure torture for him. He felt like this was unfair, unreasonable and most importantly; stupid. No matter how hard he begs you, trying to appeal to you, to get to your good side and even going the extra mile of using his signature puppy eyes on you, you were stubborn. But your boyfriend can be just as stubborn as you are. Perhaps the saying ‘peas in a pod’ can be applied here, right?

“C’mon, please please please? I’ll be good!” Jake whined, nuzzling into the crook of your neck with his lips brushing against your skin. 

You sighed, not turning to face him as you continued typing away on your laptop. “Jake, I already said no. I’m busy and I need to finish this project today.” 

“But you’re always busy! You’ve barely paid me any attention today!” He complained, sounding akin to a kicked puppy. Normally, you would have cooed and teased him but at the moment, you have more crucial matters to focus on. 

“The moment I give you my attention, you’re going to hog me away from my work, Jaeyun. Seriously, since when did you turn into a sex addict?” You retorted, slapping his hand away when you felt it snaking its way past the hems of your shorts, eliciting a pained yelp from him. 

“Since I started dating you. Pussy so good it got me craving for more,” he mumbled, his words alighting a fire in your stomach but you refused to show any signs of how it affected you. 

“...Fine, I can cockwarm you, but that’s it. Nothing else. The moment I feel you moving, you’re out,” you relented, light-heartedly rolling your eyes at the sound of victory he made. 

Jake eagerly helped you shimmied your way out of your shorts and panties, hands clumsily fumbling to pull his sweatpants off. You snort, amused when you saw how he wasn’t wearing boxers and braced your hands on the table, allowing him to align himself against your entrance. A shaky sigh left your lips as he rubbed the tip against your already wet cunt, using your slick as lubricant to make the glide smoother. 

“Jake, fuck,” you breathed out, gripping onto the table edge as you feel him lowering you down on his cock, splitting you apart. 

His grip on your waist tightened, nails digging into your skin that you were certain marks will be left behind. His head spins at how tight and warm you felt, thighs muscles tensed as he resists the tempting urge to thrust upwards. The way your gummy, velvety walls clung onto his cock wasn’t making it any easier either. Jake leans forward, the movement causing both of you to groan at how his cock kisses your cervix. 

He tried to remain still, really he tried. But it was hard with how welcoming your pussy felt. Resting his head on your shoulder, he watched in a daze as you continued working, like you weren’t cockwarming your boyfriend. Jake absentmindedly moved his hand lower and lower, until it reached the spot between your legs where you were connected. You jumped when his fingers brushed against your spread pussy lips, the brief contact forcing goosebumps to form. 

“Jaeyun,” you hissed, throwing him a glare but he innocently blinked his eyes. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he replied, but his actions tell a different story from his words. 

You were about to reply with something snarky, only for your voice to die in your throat when he gave a light, experimental thrust up from underneath. The only form of warning you got was him holding you by your waist, reaching forward to push your laptop aside before you were pressed against the table, your cheek squished against the cool surface.

“Jake, don’t—ngh,” you protested but it was too late. 

Your boyfriend wasted no time pounding into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in your apartment, causing your ears to turn red when you realised how loud it was. The thought of your neighbours launching a noise complaint flew out of your mind when his cock hit the spot, making you see stars behind your vision. You were reduced to a whining, moaning mess, getting drunk on the intoxicating feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you. 

The loud squelching sounds made it sound like you’re filming a cliche pornographic movie. A devilish grin appeared on Jake’s face once he took note of your fucked-out state. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling you upwards and forced you to bend your back at an awkward angle. He leans down so his clothed chest is firmly pressed against your back, tilting his head to whisper into your ear. 

“What happened to wanting to kick me out, hm?” He sneers, mockery evident in his voice. Jake chuckled at the pathetic mewl you let out and how you were already drooling, wetting the table. 

“Can’t speak the moment you get a cock in you, can you? You’re nothing but a desperate cockslut, aren’t you? Maybe next time, I’ll shut you up with my cock.” 

You whimpered at his crude words, clenching down on him, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“You like that, right? Maybe I should make you cockwarm me every time and everywhere. Let your friends see how much of a slut you are,” he mocks you. 

“J-Jaeyunnie, fuck, s’good,” you slurred, eyes rolling up to the back of your head as he quickened his pace, pushing you to your climax. 

It didn’t take you long to cum and Jake followed suit seconds after, spilling deep inside of you. You whined at how full you felt, letting him pump you full of his cum. Jake slowly pulled out with caution, making you hissed at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Your legs were trembling like fallen leaves and you could feel his eyes on you.

“Jake!” You gasped when he carried you in his arms and proceeded to toss you onto the bed. 

In a blink of an eye, he was hovering over you. You nervously gulped at the sight of his eyes darkening a shade with nothing but desire written all over his face. He positioned himself between your legs, already pushing in again without giving you another second to breathe. You hated how easily you let him in, back arching off the bed at the familiar stretch. 

“One more time, alright baby? Gonna fuck you so good,” he murmured and if anything, Jake is a man of his own words. 

[sundives]

Decode ✶ psh.

Learning from you that I can walk away, too.

Summary: You're the textbook definition of the perfect daughter. With everything laid out to you, the only thing you should do is follow the footsteps of your parents and become a doctor. If not, marry a soon-to-be doctor and be the perfect wife for him.

Easily, you can do both. Despite being a college student, you are already arranged to marry Park Sunghoon, the son of your parents' business partner. While you're doing everything to tie him to your perfect life, Sunghoon is very much determined to ran away from it, chasing after a dream of passion which you could never understand.

✰ Song inspiration: Decode by Sabrina Carpenter, Autumn by Niki, Already Over by Sabrina Carpenter

✰ Word Count: 23.9k (what the hell sure.)

✰ Tags: Arranged marriage, angst!!, a bit of unrequited love, hurt a little bit of comfort, lots of lots of miscommunication (these two can’t communicate ffs), angst with happy ending ig, short fluff, smut! College setting, reader is a perfectionist and soooo stubborn, Park Sunghoon is a mess, he’s also in a band. Mentions of drinking and alcohol, and mild violence. Toxic relationships, so much drama, Wonyoung and Ningning as your best friends, mentions of enhypen members, fancy dinners and shits, lots of cursing lmao. 

✰ CW: smut! Plot with little porn, loss of virginity (both of them are virgins lmao but they kinda know what to do though, don’t ask how), extremely soft vanilla sex!! P in v sex, short mutual masturbation, fingering, mentions of blood, use of condom (!!!), praise, big dick! Sunghoon, aftercare. I might have forgotten some but yeah, shitty smut hope you enjoy nonetheless.

✰ Asul’s note: okay med students don’t come to me, I know that you need to pass a board exam before attending med school, or not, i think that’s based on your undergraduate program sdkfkjddfk. (I base it on my country lmao) so inaccuracies about becoming a doctor might be present here, so now, I am apologizing for the inaccuracies. (anyways, this is a fanfic guys, let it slide.) This is also not proofread lmao.

Anyways, this is the second installment for Arcanum series yay! you guys loved Jay's fic that I decided to write for the other members. :D hope you enjoy this one. <3

Read Jay's fic here.

✰ Taglist: @kiikiisblog @bussolares @semi-wife @starry-eyed-bimbo @sievenderz @jakeslvt

-

You have a routine. 

By six in the morning, regardless if you have class that day, you’ll be awake. You start your day by taking a 5km walk in the community plaza in your subdivision, wherein the sun has already risen but not enough for you to feel hot. 

You should also be home by seven in the morning, wherein you do your morning routine like taking a bath, cooking breakfast, and maybe spare thirty minutes to read the book on your reading list before driving off to Decelis University. If you don’t have any classes that day, you’ll spend the day advance reading  your subjects. 

Everything in your life has always been like that. Having a routine keeps you organized, calms your mind and keeps your body circling everyday — leaving no room for mistakes, because making mistakes for you isn’t an ideal thing to do.

You’re the only child of your family. You grew up with loving parents who showered you with love and everything that you want. Spoiled but not rotten, everything wasn’t given to you in a snap. They always taught you that everything they give to you, should be repaired. Hence, you grew up with expectations given to you, and you have every determination not to fail your parents. 

That’s why you’re studying medical biology, following the footsteps of your father who owns the biggest medical center in your city. Ever since your father exposed you to his work, your dream has been to become a doctor like him, and they were happy that you’re following their path. 

While they are anticipating for you to become a doctor, your parents didn’t hesitate to give you a second option — a doctor’s wife like your mother. Someone who tends to their husband, becoming a housewife or trophy wife who spends their husband’s money with no problem, your mother would always joke. 

Coincidentally, your parents didn’t even let you choose between the options because easily, you can have both. While your ring finger remains empty, you know you’re bound to be married to someone by the time you graduate college. 

“Sunghoon,” you called out, shaking the boy’s shoulder. You were given a short groan as Sunghoon turned sideways and covered his head with the blanket.

“Sunghoon, wake up! We have class at ten!” you shouted, pulling the blanket once again. It didn’t take a minute for Sunghoon to sit up with a loud groan escaping his lips. 

“y/n, it’s only eight in the morning, you can go to Decelis if you want to, but let me fucking rest for another hour,” he said mindlessly, eyes still close. 

“You’ll skip class again because you overslept,” you pointed out. “Are you still drunk?”

“I have a hangover, thanks for asking,” Sunghoon replied sarcastically. “Also, why do you care if I skip class for today? It’s just a minor subject for fuck’s sake, just go.” 

“Make sure you go to Decelis today,” you reminded before leaving his room. Sunghoon didn’t even bother replying to you, he only lay down in his bed once again and dozed off, which only made you heave a sigh. 

You’ve known Park Sunghoon ever since you two were kids. You remember the first time you two met, at his father’s birthday, wherein he played the piano for the audience. You watched as he effortlessly played a song you’re unfamiliar with. Eyes locked at him, it was the first time you felt that rush of in your heart, cheeks heating up as you admired him from where you were standing. 

Ever since that day, you wanted to marry Sunghoon. His parents own the largest pharmaceutical company in your district which means that he’s bound to inherit his parents’ business. You think that it was destiny. If you two were to get married, your parents’ businesses would merge and you envision yourself as a doctor along with Sunghoon. 

It was as if the perfect life had been given to you. While you never formally requested to your parents that you wanted to marry Sunghoon, they pretty much set you two up. You grew up with Sunghoon, played and studied with him, and went to the same school together. 

He was your best friend. Although the lingering crush inside you still gives you butterflies every time you’re with Sunghoon, your platonic love for him still outweighs. You two passed Decelis University together, but before you two entered college, the formal arrangement between the two of you was held in a private dinner — completely shattering your relationship with him. 

From there, everything changed, the wariness that you two will get married after graduation lingers, and the fact that you two were forced to live in a house together, alone, made it more awkward for the two of you. 

Both your parents insisted that it’s for you two to prepare for your marriage. At first, it was hard to adjust, having small talks and walking on eggshells during the first few months despite you two growing up together. But slowly, you two had become well-adjusted with each other.

Going to Decelis together, study dates, and senseless conversations after dinner happened because not only you two live together, you two are also classmates. You two became well-known in your department. With your family’s background and reputation, everyone knows that you two are engaged to each other, and by the end of your freshman year, you two were considered as the medical sciences department’s “power couple.” 

Although you two had adjusted well, the two of you knew that what you had were only platonic, two best friends who live together under the same roof, ignoring the future that awaits for both of you. 

But when sophomore year came, Sunghoon formed a band along with some friends and a junior of his, and they named it, “Arcanum,” and ever since that day, Sunghoon was no longer the Sunghoon that you knew. 

You always thought that his talent for piano will only be a talent of his, but you didn’t expect it to become a passion that he will come chasing after. Ever since Arcanum happened, the sound of his keyboard can be heard all over your house, and instead of medical books and notes from your subjects being on his table, it has become lyrical sheets and chords that only Sunghoon can read. 

While Sunghoon still excels in class and passes his subjects with ease, it’s not hard to ignore that his college program isn’t his priority anymore. You found yourself alone in your house every night, Sunghoon separating from you by the end of the class because he has a gig or band practice. Sometimes he goes home drunk, and you’re wondering why the hell he is letting himself get drunk despite his low alcohol tolerance. 

You know that it’ll get worse if he continues doing it. You tried to talk him out of it but Sunghoon got angry with you instead, lashing out that why can’t you just support his passion instead. It was the first time he ever got angry with you and yet, it fueled something in you, the way he looked at you that night, you’re convinced that he’s not the Sunghoon that you know — which persisted you more to make him go back to the way he was. 

You tried. Everyday, you tried to make sure he goes to his class, waking him up and checking up on him became part of your routine. But it all seems useless because the more you pick up Sunghoon’s mess, the more he becomes annoyed at you. It became something you two always fought about, slowly you two didn’t realise that you two had drifted apart. 

“Class dismissed,” the professor announced. You could only close your notebook as you shake your head with disappointment.

Sunghoon didn’t show up, he’s probably in his room, still asleep. You hated how he didn’t show up, and all of it is because of a hangover from yesterday’s gig. You always told him that he shouldn’t drink during school days but it’s Sunghoon, he never listens to you. 

As you  grabbed your things and placed them in your bag, your professor called you out suddenly, which made you head towards him. 

“Yes sir?” you asked. 

“It’s about Sunghoon,” he started, your eyes widened but you only nodded, it wasn’t a surprise to you that your professors go to you if there’s any concerns regarding your fiance.

“He might as well drop my subject because he’s already failing,” your professor explained.

“What?” you asked, almost stumbling on your own tongue.

“He’s been absent for the past few weeks, and you know that attendance is still a crucial part of my subject. If he keeps on missing my classes, he’ll receive a failing grade in my subject, no considerations,” he said with a stern voice. 

You kept quiet for a moment, but only nodded. “I will inform him about this one, thank you so much sir.”

“I know that Arcanum is slowly becoming popular, but he still has to prioritize his studies,” your professor comments. 

You only gave him a formal smile before excusing yourself. As soon as you reached the hallway, you felt yourself in relief, but there was a hurtful tug on your heart. You couldn’t help but to grab your phone, dialing Sunghoon’s number. 

But all your calls went to his voicemail, you only stared at your phone, frozen from where you were standing. Your heart is beating at an abnormal pace and you hate that feeling.

You’re nervous. You hated feeling nervous. You’re nervous about Sunghoon, if he fails this subject, he’ll be delayed to graduate. He can’t delay. No, you two were supposed to graduate this year and after a few months, you two will get married before attending medical school. That’s the plan. There shouldn’t be any other options other than that. 

Of course you have to tell him about it, but the question was, does Sunghoon care? That’s what scares you the most. Because there’s a large possibility that he doesn’t care about it, he’ll let himself fail a subject if it means proving you wrong.

You couldn’t concentrate for the remaining day. Thoughts keep running in your mind, and to make it worse, none of your subjects were attended by Sunghoon. You don’t know his whereabouts since he wasn’t replying to your texts and calls, and you know that you’re going home to an empty house again.

Sunghoon is probably in his gig again, or maybe practicing somewhere. That’s what you thought when you entered the house, and your guess is right, it was empty and dark. As you close the door, there’s a small pain in your heart staring at the huge yet hollow house, wondering if this would be the house that you’ll go home to in a few years.

But your pondering was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating, as you grabbed it and opened, you were surprised that Sunghoon’s calling you. 

“I’ve been calling you since earlier!” you shouted the moment you answered the call. 

“My parents’ are here, I spent the day with them in case you’re wondering why I was absent for today,” Sunghoon said boredly, and despite his cold tone, you were relieved to hear his explanation.

“You should’ve told me that instead of having me wonder where the hell are you,” you replied.

“Get dressed, they’re taking us out for dinner, I know you’re home by now, so we’ll pick you around thirty minutes,” and with that, Sunghoon ends the call. He didn’t even acknowledge your answer. You could only look at your phone for a minute before deciding to go to your room and find a nice outfit for dinner. 

Sunghoon’s parents  are a lovely couple who treated you like their own daughter. As soon as they arrive at your place to pick you up, Mrs. Park immediately approaches you with a smile on her face, hugging you tightly which you only reciprocate. 

“Y/n dear! Look at you, so pretty as ever,” she said with a smile, brushing your hair which only made you smile wider. “Don’t get too stressed, okay? I know with graduation nearing, it can be stressful for you two. Just don’t worry about your marriage, focus on your studies first.”

You only let out a small chuckle, “of course auntie, thank you for the concern.”

“You’re looking out for Sunghoon,” she whispered, knowing that the subject was in the room. “It can be hard sometimes, right? I’m just happy that you’re the one that he’s going to marry. He doesn’t know how lucky he is.”

The smile on your face almost slipped, but you managed to give her a nod. The beaming smile on Mrs. Park’s lips make you wonder what she would feel if she learned about how disastrous her son is now — or how his fiance couldn’t even tame him down. 

“Of course, thank you for putting your trust in me.” instead, fake words slipped out of your mouth perfectly even though you were itching to snitch your fiance to his mother. 

Mrs. Park only pats your cheeks one last time before calling out Mr. Park and Sunghoon, indicating that the four of you should go now. 

Arriving at the restaurant, the four of you went straight to the VIP room where food was already served. Dinner immediately commenced with a few talks and chit-chats.

“Graduation is near,” Mr. Park said in the middle of the dinner, glancing at you and Sunghoon. “Any plans? University of choice for your med school?”

“Decelis’ medical school is one of the top,” you answered diligently. “I might stay there.”

“Ah, I do remember, both your parents attended Decelis Medical School, good choice for you y/n,” Mr. Park pointed out. 

“How about you Sunghoon dear?” Mrs. Park asked. 

You only glanced at Sunghoon who busied himself with the food. He gives his parents a bored stare before picking up the meat on his plate, “Probably Decelis too.”

“Ah I see, you don’t want to get separated from y/n, such a sweetheart,” Mrs. Park teasingly said. 

Sunghoon softly scoffs, making you glance at him. His action were left unnoticed by his parents. When Sunghoon glanced at you, he raised an eyebrow, and you wanted to say something but you held yourself back. Knowing that you two are just putting up a show to his parents.

The remaining hours were filled with nothing but silence, which you are used to. Talks about college were all the conversation revolved around, and somehow, Sunghoon managed to answer his parents’ questions like he was a diligent student who’s top of his class. 

“Take care of the two of you okay? We’ll see you during your break,” after a few goodbyes and hugs, Sunghoon’s parents have left the two of you back in your house. The two of you watched their car leave and with that, Sunghoon turns around and enters the house. 

You followed him, heels clanking against the marble floor. You watched as he unbuttons his sleeved shirt’s button, walking towards his room when you called him out. 

“You should be glad that I didn’t tell them that you’re on the edge of failing a subject,” you blurted out. 

Sunghoon merely laughs in disbelief, “oh, now I should be glad that you saved my ass earlier? Thank you then.”

You chose to ignore his sarcastic remark, “Sunghoon, you can’t give up now, we’re graduating, do you really want to get yourself delayed?” 

Sunghoon only stared at you, “what if I do? Is there something you can do about it?”

You only blink for a second. “Fine, go on and get delayed, fail a subject if you want to. But do I have to remind you that Arcanum’s a university band? And by Decelis’ rules, they allow bands to perform as long as they don’t have a failing grade? So if you want to be so hard-headed about not attending class, say goodbye to your band then.” 

“You’re so annoying aren’t you? Using Arcanum just so I can continue studying medicine,” Sunghoon exhales. 

A haunting smirk plastered on your face, “oh no sweetheart, I’m just reminding you that you can’t chase after Arcanum, especially when it’s still tied in Decelis and your studies. So maybe rethink your life choices now before your parents find out about the mess that you’ve been doing.” 

Sunghoon mockingly laughs, “you’re such a stuck-up to my parents.”

“Then make a fucking choice Hoon,” you challenged. “Them finding out through me or Decelis? Either way, it’s not going to end well, so fix yourself and get some sleep tonight. We have class tomorrow at eight. Goodnight to you.”

You end the conversation by passing by him. Going straight to your room where you immediately locked yourself. You lean against the door, Eyes shutting tightly as you try to steady your breathing. You can feel all the energy leaving your body, wanting nothing more to sleep.

You always say to yourself that you won’t give up on Sunghoon, but days like these feel like every effort you give to him is useless. 

-

The following day, you and Sunghoon arrived at Decelis University together, creating a buzz in the campus. It was a rare occurrence for you to attend together.

Everyone knows. It's obvious that your relationship has been becoming astray, and yet, your “power couple” status remains the same. No one attempted to pursue you nor girls couldn’t flirt with Sunghoon not only because you two are tied together, but because you two are deemed untouchable because of your background. 

You two entered the classroom, Sunghoon going to the corner seat near the window while you opted for the second row near the aisle. A few mutters can be heard, but you chose to ignore it, getting used to people talking about you and Sunghoon’s ‘stray relationship.’

The day goes on, classes and laboratories continue on and on, and you’ve done the class with ease. You didn’t talk to Sunghoon but you observed that he managed to catch up with your lectures despite his absences. Natural Sunghoon, he can be gone for half of the semester, and still manage to top his grades. 

“Go home already,” Sunghoon said to you by the end of the class. “I have a gig tonight.”

You only gave him a bitter smile, “of course you have.”

But instead of leaving you there, Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, “you know this y/n.”

“And I’m used to it,” you sharply said. “Why are you still standing there? Go now before I convince you to not go to your gig tonight.’

Sunghoon gave you another look before turning around, watching him leave the classroom as you stood there. Short conversations, sarcastic remarks, and bitter statements that’ll lead to arguments. You wonder when will this end?

“What’s wrong? You’re out of focus today,” Yizhuo asked with a worried tone. You only place your tennis racket down as you grab your water bottle.

“Just the same usual thing,” you answer, sitting on the bench as your best friend did the same thing. She places her hand on your thigh, lightly patting it. 

“Sunghoon again? You know you should stop chasing after him.”

“It’s not that I am chasing him, I’m already tied to him —” you heaved out another heavy sigh. “He’s the one chasing after a dream. Bands? What’s his future with them? After college, they’ll be gone, it’s not like they’ll continue playing after college.”

“He seems to be so passionate about it,” Yizhuo pointed out. “Watched their performance last week at The Rabbit Hole, they’re great by the way.”

“He should be focusing on med school,” you explained. “But he’s out there performing and getting drunk, I don’t know Ning, I don’t know what to do with him. His parents trusted me to take care of him —”

“There you go again, worrying about things that aren’t your control,” your best friend gently pats your back. “You know, you can always back out of the marriage? You’re still young! You might even meet someone better in med school.”

That’s when you stifle a laugh, “how can I? My parents arranged this one.”

“Ran away! Do you really want to spend your life with that idiot?”

You didn’t answer your friend. Your smile disappeared, and for a moment, you only looked at the court where strangers were playing tennis. Your focus shifted to the tennis ball bouncing back and forth from the players until it went out of the court. 

“I do,” you said softly, because from the very start, it has always been Sunghoon. You couldn’t imagine yourself looking for others when Sunghoon is right there from the very start. 

“You’re going to let yourself be a fool for him huh?” Yizhuo asked with a disappointed tone. 

But you only looked at your best friend with a determined smile, “no, I’m going to make him quit the band.”

“You know you’re already doing it but nothing’s changing,” Yizhuo said. You only gave her a smile before standing up from the bench, you two went back to the table where your bags are located. 

“Then I just have to keep on trying more,” you pointed out, fishing out your phone, you opened it and saw missed calls from Sunghoon — which is a surprise. 

You pressed Sunghoon’s number and after a few rings, it answered. 

“Hello?” an unfamiliar voice called. 

“Hello, who is this?” you asked.

“It’s Heeseung, Sunghoon’s bandmate.”

“Oh! I remember you, you study education right?”

Heeseung faintly chuckles from the background, “yes, that would be me, but listen, uhm…Sunghoon’s drunk right now —”

“Already? It’s only ten in the evening.” 

“Yeah, but you know his alcohol tolerance — listen, uhm can you pick him up? He’s passed out on the couch but doesn’t want to get inside Jay’s car for some reason.” you can sense Heeseung’s apologetic tone, which only made you roll your eyes.

“It’s not like I can leave him there right? Can you send me the location, I’ll be there in a few minutes, I’m just at Decelis’ tennis club,” you said.

“I’ll send it right now, thank you y/n.” And with that, the call ended. You grabbed your bag and bid Yizhuo goodbye. 

“Just reminding you that you can always leave him!” your best friend shouted, and you only gave her a glare before sprinting towards your car.

Sunghoon’s location drove you to a huge house, just a few blocks away from the university. Parking your car nearby, you got off from it and headed towards the entrance, ringing the bell twice. 

The door opened, revealing a tall and familiar guy who you assumed was Heeseung.

“You’re here, that’s great, we’ll get Sunghoon but come in first,” he said with a smile, you only nod as you enter the house. 

“You’re Heeseung right?” you asked as you two walked towards the living room. Heeseung stops and looks at you, he looks surprised but only nods. 

“Yeah, this is probably the first time we met, I only see you inside the campus and that’s a rare occurrence.” he said. 

Entering the living room, the first thing you saw was Sunghoon flat-out dead on the couch while some boys were cleaning the mess on the coffee table along with some girls. Can beers and bottles of vodkas placed on the table along with some snacks, while their instruments are set-up on a corner. 

“He said that he was on a gig,” you stated, walking towards Sunghoon. 

“Yeah, we just finished it earlier and he kinda insisted that we celebrate it,” Heeseung shrugs. 

“He has the guts to drink his heart out and then not go to class the next day,” you muttered under breath as you lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“He’s not gonna wake up anytime soon,” said another voice. “I’m Jay, and this is Jungwon.”

“Hi, sorry for the hassle,” the blonde boy said.

“I’m sorry for Sunghoon too, I feel like you guys always have to take care of him whenever he’s like this.” 

“We’re used to it, no worries,” Jay assured. 

“And that worries me more because he just doesn’t stop,” you pointed out. “You’ll end up tolerating his bad habits.”

No one said a thing. The three of them watched as you attempted to pull Sunghoon to sit up from his place, you were struggling but you were persistent.

They know how much you dislike Arcanum, seeing it as nothing but a university band who performs. Despite all of Sunghoon’s rants and complaints about you, the remaining three decided to be civil with you since they know that you’re going to be Sunghoon’s future wife.

“If that’s your worry, we don’t tolerate bad habits here,” Heeseung breaks the silence approaching you as he lifts Sunghoon on his shoulders, along with the other two who held his limbs. 

“That’s not my only worry,” you whispered, Heeseung glances at you before proceeding to carry Sunghoon outside towards your car. 

They set him neatly on the passenger seat, Sunghoon didn’t move nor made a sound as they put on his seatbelt. It’s safe to assume that he’s passed-out drunk and frustration is written all over your face. They weren’t that stupid to notice it, Sunghoon has lately become too attached with alcohol.

“You guys know that he’s studying medicine right? After college, he’s going to med school,” you asked them, who only glanced at each other, knowing that it’s the total opposite of what Sunghoon has been telling them. 

“If he keeps going on like this, I don’t know what will happen to him in the future,” you said one last time before going inside your car and driving away from the place. 

The silence was devouring, you kept on glancing at Sunghoon from time to time, checking if he had gained consciousness or not. You only tighten your hold on the steering wheel as you speeden your drive towards your place. 

As you arrive at your house, that’s when you face the challenge of carrying Sunghoon inside your place. You opened the door of the passenger seat and lightly shake Sunghoon’s shoulder. He didn’t budge for a moment, that’s when you called out his name, shaking it harsher than before. 

You watch as Sunghoon’s eyebrows knit, letting out a frustrated groan as he attempts to open his eyes. 

“Get up now, we’re home,” you told him.

“y/n?” he asked before closing his eyes. 

“Sunghoon! Wake up please!” you pleaded. But he didn’t move again, so you stood there, thinking about what to do with him. That’s when you used all your strength to swing his heavy arms around your shoulders but as soon as you attempted to pull him out of the car, he didn’t budge. 

“Fucking hell,” you curse, removing his shoulder. This time, you shake his head while screaming his name. For a few seconds, he opens his eyes confused and drowsy. 

“Just lean on me,” you instructed, you grabbed his shoulders once again and this time, Sunghoon managed to move on his own, leaning his huge body against yours. You could only groan as you helped him walk inside your house. 

You didn’t even manage to reach his room, Sunghoon found himself stumbling in the living room — towards the couch where you couldn’t do anything but to fix his position. You left the living room and returned in a minute with a blanket and a pillow for him. 

Gently, you place the pillow below his head and put the blanket on him. Then you stood there, eyes never leaving Sunghoon who’s sleeping now. You kneeled in front of him, brushing his messy bangs so that you could see his face closer.

“What am I going to do with you Hoon?” you whispered, eyes never leaving his face. Sunghoon looks so peaceful and gentle in his sleep — this is probably the only time you see him this peaceful. 

A bitter smile escapes your lips because the more you look at him, the more it slowly sinks into you that tomorrow won’t be like this.  “Goodnight Sunghoon,” you mumbled, patting his head one last time before returning to your room. 

-

Your routine was disrupted when Sunghoon barged into the kitchen, angry and frustrated. 

“Y/n!? What the fuck!?” you stopped your tracks, turning off the stove before turning around to see a disheveled and mad Sunghoon in front of you. 

“Is there something wrong?” you asked.

“Don’t act so fucking innocent now, you know what you did,” Sunghood accused you. 

“Maybe get straight to the point rather than pointing fingers on me,” you replied. 

“You told my friends about med school,” he answered. “Now they think that Arcanum’s messing up my future.”

“Well isn’t it? Sunghoon, you really think that you’re going to play in that band forever?” you taunted. It’s been a few days since you had a talk with his band members. The following day that time, everything seems to be normal for you — not until now that Sunghoon had discovered it. 

“What if I want to? What if I told you that I am not planning to go to med school and I want to perform instead?” he taunted back, stepping forward in front of you which made you step backward, trapping you between the kitchen counter. 

“That’s not what’s planned Sunghoon,” you breathe, forehead creasing as you only stare at him dead. “You knew from the start, ever since we got engaged — engagement, college, marriage, then med school. That was the plan.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe things might change y/n? Maybe I want to perform now rather than take over my father’s business.”

“So you’ll be a disappointment?” you mocked. “You’ll go after your dream? Performing stupid songs and covers rather than repaying your parents’ efforts on you?”

“At least I know what I want, can’t say that to you since you can’t decide for yourself,” Sunghoon mocks. 

A stinging pain burned on Sunghoon’s cheeks. It took him a minute to sink in what you just did, but he could only laugh mockingly as your eyes remained at him, wide but filled with anger. Your palms numbed as it rounded to conceal yourself from doing it again.

“At least I know what’s best for me, and you may not like it but we’re engaged Sunghoon, and I’m not going to let our future be ruined by some mere passion of yours,” you stated, gritting your teeth as your stare became cold. 

Sunghoon didn’t say another word. His eyes speak for it that he’s angry, and he’s only controlling himself from hurting you despite the fact that you hurt him first. You could only stare at him, not attempting to back down. 

But it was as if there’s an angel watching over you, the doorbell rang, indicating a visitor. The two of you turned your head towards the door, and before anyone could say another word, you pushed Sunghoon out of your way, walking towards the door and opening it. 

“Wonyoung!?” you shouted, surprised to see your best friend. 

“Surprise!” the girl shouted in glee, stretching her arms to pull you a hug which you dearly reciprocated. 

“Oh my god, you’re here?” you asked, breaking out from the hug.

“I just got back from Milan and went straight here,” Wonyoung winks before she steps inside your house, your eyes following her as she goes to Sunghoon. 

“Sunghoon! I miss you!” Wonyoung shouted, embracing Sunghoon who only reciprocated it. 

“Long time no see, Wonnie,” Sunghoon gently said.

“It’s great — what happened to your face?” Wonyoung asked, seeing his left cheeks red. 

“Bumped on a wall, but it doesn’t hurt,” Sunghoon lied, before glancing at you who only stared at him coldly.

Wonyoung seems to be convinced by it, laughing it off before pulling you two to a hug. Squealing how much she has missed you two — oblivious about the fight that happened just minutes ago. 

“Do you want some drinks? Come on, sit down for a while,” Sunghoon insisted, ignoring you as he ushered Wonyoung towards the living room. You immediately noticed how Sunghoon’s face lit up, his smile becoming wider that his eyes turned into two curves — the first time in the many months that you saw Sunghoon’s genuine smile. 

It wasn’t always you and Sunghoon ever since you two were kids — there were the three of you. 

Wonyoung is a best friend of yours. A sister that you always needed. She’s a free-spirited girl who always indulges in fun even if it means getting the three of you in trouble. 

Unlike you and Sunghoon, Wonyoung’s family is richer. She was rich enough to have a choice not to attend college and spend her parents’ money that won’t even dent their bank account. While you and Sunghoon are studying in Decelis, Wonyoung was traveling a lot, attending fashion weeks, and brand launches. Slowly, she became a well-known influencer and socialite that collaborates with well-known brands and walks for their runway. It was hard to get a glimpse of her, that’s why it surprised you that she’s here in the city. 

“So, what brings you here instead of going back to our hometown?” you asked, placing the glass of juice in front of her. 

“Mom and dad’s here, they’re actually planning on renewing their vows — oh by the way, you two are invited there and so are your parents, it’s an intimate event but you know them, they want it grandiose and perfect, so I have to help in organizing it,” Wonyoung diligently said. “And I miss you guys! It’s been like a year since we last hung out, hopefully I’m not intruding on whatever plans you have though.”

Talking about wrong timing. You thought. Everything is crumbling between you and Sunghoon but you don’t want Wonyoung to know about that, so you only gave her smile and said, “everything’s fine, a bit hectic because it’s senior year, but it’s a rare case that you’re here, so we’ll make time.” 

Wonyoung only pouts, “you guys, I really miss you, seriously! I love my job but it gets lonely sometimes.”

“You can always go back to college,” Sunghoon teased, making Wonyoung glare at him. 

“Ugh, you dumbass, if I returned to college, you guys would have already graduated!” Wonyoung whined while Sunghoon only laughed. 

“Anyways, I just dropped by to show up to you guys, just tell me when you guys are free, maybe we could go out for dinner — oh, I wanted to see Decelis too! How’s that sound?” Wonyoung delightfully suggested. 

“We’ll make time for you Won, just tell us when you’re free,” Sunghoon answered, making you glance at him. 

Wonyoung only smiled at the answer. She told the two of you that she’s free all the time since there’s not much preparation going on. As she bid goodbye to you, you only gave her a short smile before she was walked out of the door by Sunghoon. Watching the two of them exchange banters before Sunghoon closes the door. 

You stood up from your seat, ready to leave when Sunghoon cornered you immediately. 

“You think we’re done? I’m not done yet y/n,” Sunghoon growled. 

But you only gave him a bored smile, “Wonyoung’s here Hoon, can we just not do this? I don’t want her seeing us fight —”

“You care more about what others think of us huh? Of course, you don’t want everyone to see the ‘perfect daughter’ imperfect.”

“It’s seldom for us to see Wonnie, I don’t want her to think that our friendship is ruined, we’re the only one that she has,” you pointed out. 

“Well, too bad for her, it’s already ruined, the moment both of us got engaged.” Sunghoon didn’t even let you say another word. He eventually went back to his room, slamming the door loudly like he always does. 

You remained there standing, words deeply cutting through your mind. You looked at Sunghoon’s door once again, before heaving a sigh. The palm of your hand remained heavy, guilt swallowing you knowing that perhaps, you went too far this time. 

-

Over the weekend, the three of you went out as per Wonyoung’s request. Going to a nearby mall where you three had brunch, played at the arcade, and even took photos at the photobooth. The whole day felt nice for you, it felt like you three are back as teens who would sneak out at night just to hangout and drive around town. 

While you and Sunghoon are still not okay, a silent truce was made for Wonyoung. You two never tried to argue or fight whenever she’s around, and although it can be suffocating for the both of you, you two tried to act as normal as possible. 

“I do wonder what would happen to us if I stayed and studied college,” Wonyoung ponders. The three of you decided to have ramen and convenience store snacks by the end of the day, opting to watch the sunset at a nearby park. It was Wonyoung’s request because she was curious what it feels like, seeing it on social media not knowing that this is also the first time you and Sunghoon had experienced it. 

“What makes you think about that?” you asked.

Wonyoung only smiles, “you guys seem to be so secured with your future, becoming doctors and stuff, while me? I don’t know what I am doing.”

“You’re doing what you love,” Sunghoon butts in. “And that matters, you know? At least you love what you’re doing, not because it’ll secure you a good future.” 

You know what Sunghoon was trying to say, but you remained quiet, watching as Wonyoung nodded at Sunghoon’s advice. 

“You’re right, I do love the free pr packages and clothes,” Wonyoung jokes, laughing before pulling you two to a hug. “You guys are the best, hope nothing changes with the three of us.”

A meaningful glance was exchanged between you and Sunghoon. Not one said a word, only actions spoke as both of you embraced your best friend back.

The following week, Decelis University had a one-day event, cancelling academic activities which was an opportunity for you to invite Wonyoung to tour around Decelis. She arrived around three in the afternoon, hugging you and Sunghoon as she complained how organizing her parents’ renewal of vows became hectic, happy that she was able to relax for today. 

The tour went on with ease, Wonyoung was curioused at the different department buildings of Decelis since its structure differed from others. Taking photos using her film camera which she used to take photos of the three of you too. 

“So this is called the lover’s garden because lovers often come here?” Wonyoung asked, pointing at Decelis’ botanical garden which is actually for botany and biology students. 

“More like a lover's hideaway, it’s pitch black there during night, I’m leaving up to your imagination what couples do there,” Sunghoon explains, a teasing smile on his lips as Wonyoung’s face distorted in disgust. 

“Ew! Why can’t you guys book a hotel room or something,” she commented and yet, her camera was ready. “Oh well, might as well take a picture of both of you —”

“What?” you asked, appalled. “Won, we never did it.”

“And save myself from imagining you two banging, just stand in front of the entrance! You guys are a couple right? Come on now, you two don’t have a photo together!” Wonyoung insisted. 

An exchange of glances was given, but before you could even complain once again, Sunghoon pulled you towards the entrance. 

“Come on now, the more you complain, the more Wonyoung will insist,” Sunghoon boredly explained. You didn’t say a word, you stood there before facing the camera. 

“Pose! You guys are so stiff, it’s like you two aren’t in love with each other,” Wonyoung taunted before preparing her camera again. 

Funny because you two aren’t at all. But no protest was made when Sunghoon swings his arms around your shoulder before pulling you closer. You can feel your heart skip a beat, but it was immediately reminded by your mind. The more you complain, the more Wonyoung insists. Sunghoon did it so that it can be finished early, so you fake a smile as Wonyoung clicks the button. 

She stares at the screen, smiles wide as she looks at you two, “you guys are perfect for each other.” 

“Very funny Won,” you sarcastically replied.

After the endless walking and tour, you three stumbled at your building’s cafeteria, buying drinks as Wonyoung is still in awe about your university, totally immersing herself with your college life. 

“What about dinner? I’m pretty sure you guys have a lot of good eateries around,” Wonyoung suggested, it was five-thirty in the afternoon, the sun was almost setting which meant that it's time for early dinner for most students.

“You guys can go on,” Sunghoon said, standing from his seat. “I have to go, I have a gig.”

You internally scoff, even if Wonyoung’s here, Sunghoon couldn’t bear to miss his band’s gig.

“Wait, can we watch?” Wonyoung excitedly asked, making the two of you look at her.

“Ask y/n if she wants to,” Sunghoon bitterly said, and you only looked away from him, rolling your eyes. 

“What? You haven’t seen Sunghoon’s gig?” your best friend asked, confused before gazing her eyes back to Sunghoon.

Your lips tightened, “I’m busy…I don’t have time —”

“Then this is a great time to watch his gig! Come on!”

You weren’t able to object, Wonyoung was so excited that it only left you quiet as she pulled you away from your seat. 

Arcanum’s weekly gig was held at The Rabbit Hole — a mixture of coffee shop and bar lounge under Decelis University’s funding. The place was cozy, designed with vintage interiors with a small stage place in the end. This is the first time you went to that place, almost surprised to see that it’s full of people; locals, students, and probably fans of Arcanum crowded the small establishment. 

You and Wonyoung find yourself at a table for two far from the stage but enough to see their performance. Sunghoon excuses himself as he went to the back room where it serves as Arcanum’s waiting room. 

“Do you even know that Sunghoon plays in the band?” Wonyoung jokes, eyes never leaving the menu on her hand. 

“I do, I just don’t have time to watch his performance,” you half-lied. The truth is, you never tried to find time to watch their performance. For what? You always say to Sunghoon whenever he invites you to his gig, you rather spend the time studying or doing something much important for you. 

“Well I’m glad I’m here because we’re going to watch him perform!” your best friend giggled, you only gave her a small smile before glancing at the menu once again. 

While waiting for your food to arrive, you noticed how the place slowly became full to the point that there weren’t any tables left and some people opted to stand instead. Your eyes never left the crowd, wondering if this is the usual situation to Arcanum’s gig. 

Around seven in the evening, your food arrived but you were startled when the crowd started screaming — mostly girls of course, making you shift your attention at the stage.

There they were, Arcanum. The four-member band of Decelis University. They changed their school uniform with a casual street-style outfit. Your eyes fixated on Sunghoon who’s wearing a football jersey, pairing it with a huge chain necklace and cargo pants.

You watch as he busies himself with his keyboard — the instrument that he bought by saving up his allowance. You remember how he excitedly unboxed it in the living room, even testing it out while you sat on the couch reviewing for your midterm exams. Somehow, he was careful with it, caring for it like it’s his own child. 

“Wow, we have a full house tonight!” your attention immediately caught on Heeseung who’s in the center, holding a bass guitar as his smile was wide and gleaming. Screams can be heard from the crowd, a fangirl even shouted “I love you Heeseung!” which only made the vocalist chuckle. 

“Before that, let’s have a crowd check don’t we? Who's here for the first time?” Heeseung asked, raising his hands which a few in the crowd followed. 

“Us! It’s our first time!” you were startled when Wonyoung shouted loudly, standing up from her seat as she grabbed your hands and raised it together with hers — caughting Heeseung’s attention, an evident smirk on the male’s lips can be seen.

“Oh? I am seeing familiar faces here, do we Hoon?” the vocalist teased, Sunghoon only smirked as he crossed his arms. 

“I have to impress my guests, so you better do your best Hee,” Sunghoon nonchalantly replied before glancing at the two of you. Eyes immediately locking on yours as he raised his eyebrow knowingly — like he was telling you that he was meant to be there, performing. 

“Well better set the mood right, come on guys,” with that, Heeseung signals the band and at the count of three, they start playing synchronically. 

The crowd started screaming. You can see it, how synergized they were. They weren’t just there to perform, they were also having fun. The way Heeseung interacted with the crowd along with Jay, making the small stage as his own. He then stands in front of the microphone stand, singing the first line of a song unfamiliar to you. 

“The vocalist sounds so good!” you hear Wonyoung exclaim and you only nod at her words, it is true that Heeseung was good, but your eyes darted to Sunghoon. 

There he was, blending in the background along with Jungwon who’s at the drums, but compared to the junior, Sunghoon wasn’t banging his head as the drumsticks slammed against the drums. He wasn’t like Heeseung who controls the crowd, nor Jay who’s rocking his electric guitar like crazy. 

Sunghoon was there like a quiet mystery, a controlled relaxed expression as he immersed himself with playing the keyboard, a few head nods as his chords synchronised with others. You could only blink, deja vu hitting you all of the sudden — you remember the first time you saw Sunghoon. 

He bores the same expression that he had back when he was young. Your gaze locked on him, not noticing how your eyes met each other, but quickly, Sunghoon looked away and continued playing. Something inside you was burning, strangely your heart was beating like crazy as you watched Sunghoon perform.

You didn’t even notice that the song was finished. The crowd applauded and cheered for them, Heeseung jokingly bows before asking if the crowd wants some more. 

Throughout the whole gig, your eyes never left Sunghoon. Throughout their whole performance, you watch him change his expression more than the duration that you two had lived together, but all only fell into one conclusion — Sunghoon was happy to perform. You can see it from the way he was serious while playing the keyboard up to the way he joked with his bandmates, letting out small laughter and eye smiles throughout the small break. 

The gig ends around nine in the evening. As they stepped down from the stage, people swarmed them excitedly. Asking for pictures and small talks. You watch as Sunghoon happily accepts his fans’ request, taking pictures with them, which made Wonyoung laugh, knowing that Sunghoon can be awkward with strangers.

“Congrats! You guys are so awesome!” Wonyoung exclaimed as soon as Sunghoon approached you two. 

“Thanks Won,” Sunghoon quietly said, before glancing at you. A moment of silence hovered between the two of you before Wonyoung nudged you. 

“You did great,” you told him, giving him a small smile afterwards. 

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, surprised by your words. You only looked away, embarrassed while Sunghoon’s gaze remained at you. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. 

“It’s nothing Hoon,” you quickly turned down. 

The night ended with the three of you remaining at The Rabbit Hole for some light dinner and drinks. Sunghoon introduced Arcanum to you and Wonyoung once again, and it wasn’t a surprise that Wonyoung got along with them easily. You remain quiet throughout the night, listening to their conversation while you only take your space at the end of the table — knowing that you don’t relate to them at all.

Around eleven in the evening, you drop Wonyoung off to the hotel where she was staying, reminding you about her parents’ second wedding before bidding you two goodbye. The drive back to your home was quiet, an awkward atmosphere that both of you couldn’t comprehend. You can feel Sunghoon’s glance at you at every minute but you chose to ignore it, too tired to give it a meaning. 

“Do you mean it?” The moment you two stepped inside the living room, Sunghoon broke the tension between you two. 

You only turned around, a bored gaze staring at him but he remained unfazed. 

“Do you mean what you said earlier?” he asked, merely audible like he was embarrassed to ask you that.

For a moment you ponder. You wanted to tell him that it reminds you from the time that you two first met. Like the Sunghoon who you grew up with — but your mind stopped you. What for? If you told him that, it meant that he was right, he’s much better to be a keyboardist than a doctor. That means you accept his passion. 

“I wish you could’ve put that same energy in your studies,” so you told him that instead. A cold statement that your mind won’t stop reminding him. 

From there, you saw how the small hope in his eyes faded, followed by bitter laughter escaping from his lips. “Why did I even bother asking you again.”

He passes by you, like you’re nothing but a ghost, going straight to his room while you left there standing alone, guilt slowly growing in your heart. 

-

The second wedding of Wonyoung’s parents was extravagant just like what your best friend said. A small private reception was held at a banquet of a five-star hotel after their renewal at a small hall nearby. Flowers filled the white crystallized hall, something straight out of a royalty. You could only awe as you entered the place, arms clutched at Sunghoon who merely spoke throughout the day. 

“Sunghoon, y/n! Glad to see you two!” Mrs. Jang approached you two with a hug and kiss, you only smiled at the woman who’s like a mother to you. 

“Congratulations auntie, the vows were so sweet, I almost cried!” you said, making the woman laugh. 

“I bet you’ll write better vows than me,” she winks. “Both your parents have been talking about retirement and taking care of their grandkids from you two — gosh! You two are still young! I told them.” 

You only stifled a laugh to hide the awkwardness, Mrs. Jang only gave your arms a small squeeze, glancing at you and Sunghoon once again. “You two still have a long way to go, I hope you two won’t give up on each other.” 

You became quiet for a minute, but immediately, you gave her a smile before nodding. “Of course, thank you auntie.” 

Mrs. Jang excused herself to entertain other guests, so you took the opportunity to find your assigned seat where you and Sunghoon sat. Wonyoung was busying herself with the event organizer, you can see the stress on her face but she always lights up whenever she passes the two of you, promising you two that she’ll make it up to you two later.

It didn’t take too long for both of your parents to arrive. You and Sunghoon welcomed them with greetings and hugs, and it was obvious in their face that they were so happy to see you two together.

“Look at you two, you two are like a match made in heaven!” Mrs. Park compliments, you only chuckle at her words. 

“I can hear the wedding bells already! What do you think sweetie? Will this be a great reception for your wedding?” your mother suggested.

“Mom please, let’s not talk about that right now,” you awkwardly said. 

“It’s going to happen anyways,” your mother insisted. “But I do hope you two are doing well in your studies.”

“Of course, everything is going well auntie,” it was Sunghoon who answered, making you glance at him. Faking a smile to your mother who only pats his shoulders with glee.

“Well, that’s glad to hear,” your father answered. “I heard that you two will be attending Decelis Medical School. The passing rate is small there, I’m not scaring you two, just trying to remind you two.” 

“Dad, we’ll be fine, put trust in the two of us,” you assured. 

“Everyone’s expecting from the two of you,” Mr. Park added. “Families, friends, colleagues, everyone. They say there’s no couple who will have a better life than you two.”

Somehow, that only puts more weights on your shoulder. They’re still expecting, and you don’t know what to say to them, hence, you only put a fake smile as an awkward chuckle escapes your lips. 

“Of course,” Sunghoon answers casually like he wasn’t the one who’s actually ruining the whole engagement. “Can you excuse us for a moment? I would like to dance y/n.”

“Oh, such a sweetheart! Of course, you don’t need to tell us that,” Mrs. Park insisted. 

Sunghoon only glances at you, offering his right hand to you, which you only accepted. You knew that he didn’t actually want to dance with you, it’s just an excuse for you two to escape the conversations with both your parents before it gets worse. 

But it leads you two to an even more awkward atmosphere. Your head low as you ignore Sunghoon’s stare that has you melting like ice. Right hand clasps to each other while your other hand is on his shoulder, as his other hand is on your waist, holding you dearly as you two dance along with other couples on the circle.

It felt orchestrated, stiff like two robots forced to dance. You could only listen to the music as you follow Sunghoon’s steps. 

“You didn’t have to do this,” you said. 

“Rather have this than straight-up lie to our parents,” he said, which only made you bitterly laugh. 

“You don’t need to lie if you weren’t fucking around,” that’s when you look at him, trying to remove his hold when he tugs you closer. His eyes bore nothing but coldness, while yours was intense, filled with annoyance.

“Everyone’s watching us,” Sunghoon whispered. “You’re not going to make a mess aren’t you?”

“Why would I make a mess at someone’s wedding? That’ll be shameful Hoon,” you stated the obvious. “I’ll be surprised if you’re the one who’ll make a scene.” 

“Of course, you always think that I’ll do something like that,” he replied. 

“With all the bullshits and mess you’ve been doing lately, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” you gave him a knowing smile. His hold on you tightens, squeezing your hands and you’re convinced that a mark on your waist will bloom the following day. But you didn’t want to back down, your eyes remained at him as you two continued to dance. 

The song ended after what feels like an eternity. Immediately, you and Sunghoon stopped, making you remove his hold from you before giving him another bitter smile. 

“I need a drink, excuse me,” you said, leaving him standing there. 

You remained on the champagne section, lightly sipping the drink which you internally wince. You’re not used to alcoholic drinks but tonight feels like you needed it — maybe two or three, because you honestly don’t know what to do with your life.

The event, supposedly an event where everyone witnessed a renewal of love, made you sick rather than feel romantic. Everything’s suffocating, knowing that you’re the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s rebellion and you can’t do nothing about him while that asshole still managed to put up a show and spew lies to both your parents. 

On your fourth glass, the song suddenly changed into a bright, lively one. A disco song from the 80s that had people in gowns and tuxedos dance drunkenly. And yet, you remained in the corner, watching the crowd even seeing your parents were on the dance floor too, you stifled a laugh because they were probably reminiscing about their youth. 

From there, you caught a glimpse of them. You placed down the glass, stepping forward to see the two of them dancing. 

Sunghoon and Wonyoung. They weren’t not only dancing, but they were laughing too. You watch as the two of them dance, copying each other’s steps, synchronising as they sing along the song. You stood there, frozen. Your eyes never leave them, watching how Sunghoon twirled Wonyoung — like they’re in their own world.

Your fist turned round, nails digging on your palm as you tried to control yourself. Something about them brewed something in you. An unexplainable feeling that you don’t want to acknowledge. Watching them hold hands as they spun along to the music, while you remained nailed to a corner, your stomach wrenched into a weird feeling. — then it hit you. Everything makes sense now. 

That’s it. You didn’t think twice anymore. You went back to your table, grabbing the purse you brought and without looking back, you quietly exited the party. 

You found yourself inside the restroom, locking yourself inside as you tried to control your breathing. Closing your eyes, you tried to relax — but the scene earlier just keeps on replaying in your mind. Your hold on the sink tightens, almost scraping your nails against the marble texture. 

As much as you want to insist that you and Sunghoon are already arranged to marry each other, Sunghoon is far from being yours.

This has always been a marriage of convenience. You always remind that to yourself. Yet, there’s not a day where you wish that Sunghoon would see you differently. That you wish that he sees the reason why you’re doing everything for him. But from what you witnessed earlier, you realized that his heart beats for someone else.

All hopes lost. The signs are there. How can you let someone be married to you when he yearns for another? Everything you’ve done for him crumbled in an instant. Wasted and useless, because not only were your feelings devastated, but you also ruined your friendship with him. 

For the first time, you accept your own defeat. You stared at the mirror, seeing your reflection disgusted you. A spiraling feeling where as you stare at her, all you can see is a deceitful girl who was too selfish and prideful — wondering, if this is all Sunghoon can see in you.

With a heavy heart, you left the restroom, walking towards the empty hallway when someone called your name. You turned around to see him standing there. Your heart skipped a beat but it’s all because of the nervousness that you were feeling.

“Where did you go?” Sunghoon asked, approaching you but you walked away further, not until he grabbed you by your arms. 

“Let me go Sunghoon,” you coldly said, which made Sunghoon let go.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, I thought you’re not going to make a scene?” he sarcastically stated, making you roll your eyes, seeing that it’s just you and him in the hallway. 

“Says the guy who made a scene earlier,” you mocked.

It took a minute for Sunghoon to process what you said, eyebrows knitted as he looked at you with anger. “There’s nothing wrong with dancing with Wonyoung.”

You took a deep breath before facing him. “You like Wonyoung,”

There it is, the heavy feeling that you’ve been holding in ever since your best friend had returned. 

You can see it. You’re not dumb to not observe it. Still, it hurts as much as you want to avoid it, you couldn’t ignore the way Sunghoon’s eyes light up whenever he talks to Wonyoung. How his voice becomes soft and gentle — something that he has never done to you, and never will he.

Tonight was the final nail. As you watch them dance together, it's hard to ignore that something was sparkling between the two of them, and you hate that the truth is there is. They would make such a better couple, a healthier couple if you must say. 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Sunghoon asked, appalled. 

“You can’t fool me Sunghoon, you like Wonyoung, I can see the way you look at her, like she’s everything to you,” you explained, and every word bites you, hurting you slowly like a venom trailing on your blood. 

“I don’t like her,” Sunghoon confessed, and yet, he only stares at you deadpan. “But if I had the choice, I’ll marry her instead.” 

For a moment you were quiet, then, a bitter laugh escaped your lips because the statement hurts more than Sunghoon actually having feelings for your best friend. “You really hate me, don’t you?”

“Hate is such a deep word y/n, I don’t hate you, we are just too different,” Sunghoon explained. 

“I guess you and Wonyoung are much more similar to each other then,” you mocked. 

“She supports my passion. She understands where I am coming from,” Sunghoon pointed out. “Something you never attempt to do.” 

You only let out a deep sigh before staring at him one last time. You can feel it, the thumping beat of your heart, the short clasps of your breathing as you could only grasp on your hand tightly.

“If that’s the case Sunghoon, let's just end this engagement, nothing good will come out of this.”

Sunghoon looks at you confused, surprised that those words came out of your mouth. “What —”

“Hoon, I give up.” you confessed. “I am done cleaning up your mess, convincing you to focus on becoming a doctor while you go around playing in the band, getting drunk, and here you are, blatantly lying to your parents, acting like everything’s normal.” 

“And who asked you to do that for me? No one, right? Admit it y/n, you’re just scared because the perfect life that you’ve planned was gone.” Sunghoon pointed out.

“You’re right Sunghoon, that’s why let’s stop this engagement. I don’t want to be married to a guy like you, and clearly you don’t want to marry me either.” 

Sunghoon gives you a mocking smile. “A guy like me? Like I didn’t know your feelings for me, y/n,”

“The Sunghoon that I loved was the one who was diligent, dedicated, and nice. The one who was excited to study in Decelis to become a doctor. The one who makes me smile and cares for me. Not the drunkard asshole who’s chasing after a dream because suddenly, your life revolves around playing in the band.” you confessed, glaring at him one last time before walking away.

But it didn’t take Sunghoon a minute to reach after you, grabbing your arms and pulling you closer.

“You really think you can walk away from all of this?” Sunghoon demanded, which made you scoff. 

“What is your problem!? Shouldn’t you be happy? You’re free now!” you shouted, pushing him on his chest, making him step backward and letting you go. That’s when you felt your body weakening, you could only hold on your knees as you felt something wet streaming down your eyes. You softly tap your eyes, not noticing how fast the tears streamed down your face. 

This is the probably the first time you cried. You never cried when you fell from your bicycle. You never cried when you went second place on the honor’s list. You never cried when your parents lecture you. Crying is a sign of weakness for you and you know yourself, that you’re not weak. 

You wanted to curse everything but only a mocking laugh was all you could do. You hated yourself for being vulnerable for a split second — that you cried because of Sunghoon. Of all the reasons that made you cry, it really has to be him. 

That’s when you stood up, glancing at Sunghoon whose eyes widened to see your watery eyes. He tries to approach you but you only look away. That’s when you turned around, running towards the exit and leaving Sunghoon there frozen. 

As soon as you reached your place, you went straight to your room and locked it. You leaned against the door as you deeply exhaled — but that’s where the first outburst came. You dropped to your knees, hands covering your face as you continued to wail. It goes on for so long until your breathing becomes slow, hiccups accompanying every sob that you leave your mouth. 

You don’t feel anything but pain. It hurts. Everything just fucking hurts you. Watching Sunghoon be happy with someone else. Knowing the fact that he doesn’t want to marry you, and the dream of your perfect life was shattered in just a blink of the night. 

Everything that you planned is now nowhere to be found. You hated that it all led to this mess, blaming yourself because maybe, there’s some ways where you could’ve prevented it. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up, this may be just a moment of weakness but hearing those words from Sunghoon, tells you that there’s no hope for everything to be fixed.

Now that everything is done, you could only grab your phone, and as you open it. Your mother’s caller id jumped on the screen. You stared at it for a good minute, but the thought of your mother being disappointed that you and Sunghoon fought, worse, you broke off the engagement scared you. 

So you blocked her number and quickly dialled a number. 

“Y/n? Hello?” Yizhuo’s sleepy voice answered. 

“I’m sorry Ning but I need to crash into your place —”

“What, why? What happen —”

“I broke it off with Sunghoon.” you said, biting your lips to prevent the tears from falling again.

“What the fuck y/n!? Grabbing my keys right now, stay right there and I’m speeding to your place, give me ten minutes!” Yizhuo shouts. 

The call hung-up immediately, which was your sign. You grabbed all the important stuff that you need. Your books, notes, a few clothes and a few toiletries that’ll last you. You still have a few months left before the semester ends, all you need to do is focus on your studies — if you fail to have a perfect marriage, you’re not letting your dream of becoming a doctor slip away too. 

Dragging the luggage with you, you hear the car horn and as you step outside, you see the familiar white car Yizhuo owns. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Yizhuo said, grabbing your luggage and placing it on the back seat. You only sit in the passenger seat as you wait for your friend to enter the driver’s seat. 

“You okay?” Yizhuo asked, gently patting your shoulder. 

Tears started streaming down your face, you could only sob as your best friend pulled you for a hug.

“He’s not worth it y/n, you deserve someone better,” Yizhuo insisted as she broke out from the hug. “I know it’s hard for you because you love him, but are you really going to settle for less? If he truly cares for you, he’ll understand your side despite disliking the idea but he didn’t.”

You could only nod at her words, “I know, I give up Ning. I’m tired, he said he doesn’t want to marry me, so everything is useless.” 

“He’s going to regret letting you go,” Yizhuo swore, starting the engine before patting your shoulder once again. “You can stay in my apartment as long as you want, don’t worry about anything, I got you in this one,” Yizhuo only smiled as you drove away from the place, and as you glanced at the rearview mirror, there it was — Sunghoon’s car. 

You don’t know if he saw you leaving the place, but as you felt your phone vibrating and saw his name on your screen, you only closed your phone and glanced at the window of the car, staring at the places that you pass by, thinking that what you did was for your own good too. 

-

Days after the party, you returned to Decelis University acting like everything’s normal.

You still did your routine, minimizing some tasks since you’re living under Yizhuo’s place and you don’t want to intrude furthermore. You had plans on renting a place on your own but it’ll be a few months until your semester break. This temporary housing of yours is better than enduring living with Sunghoon.

You still don’t know how to approach your parents with the situation, afraid that it might disappoint them, though your reason wherein it’s not your fault at all is strong, you’re still scared because you just ruin everything they have planned for you. 

You only sent a short message to your father that you need time to think, before blocking his phone number too. You know that a lecture will await you, but for now, all you want is space from them. You wanted to focus on your goal without their expectations heaving on your back.

You continued going to your class. Preparations for the Decelis medical school entrance exam are near, and you’re multitasking your time doing your studies and reviewing for the exam. Despite the heavy pressure it had instilled, everything felt light for you, you felt your shoulders becoming lighter and your worries seemed to be fading day by day — perhaps it’s because you’re not worrying about Sunghoon anymore.

Sunghoon on the other hand, you don’t have any news about him. He doesn’t go to your classes either. It looks like he had made up his mind about his life, and whatever he does, you could only wish him good luck. 

As you exit the department building, you hear a familiar voice calling out your name, turning around, your eyes immediately widened at the figure. 

“Wonyoung, what are you doing here?” you asked, approaching your best friend who’s sitting on the gazebo in front of your department building. 

“I’m sorry,” she started. “I’m sorry for ruining what you and Sunghoon had, but listen to me y/n, I don’t like Sunghoon, I treat him like a brother the same way I treat you like a sister. What he said to you was so fucking stupid.” 

“You knew?” you asked, surprised.

“I went to your house the next day but Sunghoon’s the only one there. Everyone was worried y/n! They thought you two eloped, you disappeared without saying any word that night, plus you blocked auntie’s phone number.” Wonyoung explained. 

“I’m sorry, I just — I needed space, my mind’s all over the place, but Wonyoung, I’m not mad at you, it’s not your fault anyway.” 

“Sunghoon told me you broke off the engagement,” Wonyoung said. “Is it because of what he said?”

“He made it clear that he doesn’t want to marry me, so what’s the use Won?”

“You’re giving up now?” she asked. “You used to be persistent, y/n what happened?”

“Even I get tired sometimes, Won. Sunghoon…he’s a hopeless case. No matter how hard I tried to help him, he just didn't want my help.” 

“He’s a mess right now, you know that?” Wonyoung stated. “He’s been looking for you.” 

You halted because of Wonyoung’s words, but quickly, you threw her a bitter smile. “He has always been a mess Won,” you replied. “I’m just tired of picking up after him.” 

Wonyoung merely nods, giving you a pitied smile as she brushes your hair, “I understand where you’re coming from y/n, I know it was also hard for you to decide to break the engagement.”

“Hopefully, it’ll pass,” you said softly. “You’re still going to be my maid of honor no matter who I’m going to marry.” 

That made Wonyoung chuckle, which made you laugh, you hugged her once again and as you felt her arms wrapping around you, you felt relief.

You never wanted jealousy to corrupt your mind, but sometimes you couldn’t help but be insecure at how Wonyoung and Sunghoon’s relationship remained the same while him and yours disappeared in a glimpse. You know that Wonyoung’s not at fault in this one, everything was just a matter of fallout. 

“Since you’re here already, why don’t we go out for dinner? Oh, I’ll introduce you to Ning! You’ll love her!” you suggested, immediately changing the topic.

“I’ve been dying to meet her!” Wonyoung replied, immediately tugging you so that you two can meet your other friend. 

Turns out Wonyoung and Yizhuo are a two deadly duo. You were half-regretting introducing them to each other because now, they were insisting on going out for the night. 

“Come on now, you don’t have any class for tomorrow and you should relieve your stress,” Yizhuo insisted. 

“Really y/n? You’re going to graduate college without experiencing going out with your friends and partying? It’s a good thing I’m here because I am not taking a no for an answer,” Wonyoung added.

You only roll your eyes, “you know that clubs aren’t my thing.”

“That’s because you never experienced it! Come on now, you should loosen yourself up just for one night,”  Yizhuo explained. “Please, you said you need space right? Why not relax? Just for tonight, forget about your parents, their expectations, and your studies. We’ll make it worth it.” 

You only stared at the two of them, both with pleading eyes as they clasp their hands together. Another roll in your eyes was made but there’s a small smile on your face. “Fine, if I passed-out drunk, you guys take care of me.” 

Both squealed in agreement, excited as Wonyoung fished out her phone to make a reservation at a famous club in the city center, while Yizhuo immediately dragged you towards the parking lot where her car is parked, excited to go home so that you can change into something daring (she said) and party all night.

The club was full by the time the three of you arrived, Wonyoung strutted on the small walkway, excusing the strangers as she held your hand while Yizhuo’s behind you, guiding your way towards your table.

A small table for three was reserved for you, a bottle of tequila with lemon and salt was arranged neatly there. As soon as you three reached the place, you immediately sat on the couch while Yizhuo opened the bottle. 

“I hope you know how to take a shot,” she teasingly said as she poured the shot glass full. 

“I know how to, you’re making me like I’m such a nerd that doesn’t go out of her house,” you insisted.

“She drinks, she just doesn’t like going out to clubs,” Wonyoung whispered to Yizhuo who glanced at you while you boredly raised an eyebrow.

“Well, we’re going to change that, cheers!” Yizhuo shouts, raising the glass which you and Wonyoung copied. The first shot of tequila went straight down on your throat, leaving a burning feeling downwards your chest which made you sneer for a second. 

Shot after shot, you lost count the amount of times the three of you took a shot, the tequila bottle is almost half. Your mind has become hazy, spinning but you can manage it. All you can hear is the loud music coming from the speakers, the dj playing Taylor Swift’s songs which was so fucking random and yet, you didn’t care. You were singing your lungs out along with Wonyoung and Yizhuo who are also tipsy. 

“Let’s hit the dance floor!” Yizhuo suggested when the song changed to some edm music, the three of you squeezed yourself on the dance floor, dancing and singing along as you bumped onto a few people, giving them smiles and small apologies while never stopping dancing. 

You never felt more alive. You didn’t care what would happen tomorrow, all you cared about was that you’re having fun with the two girls that treat you like your sister. They were right, this is what you need and you’re just so happy that you agreed to go out with them. 

That’s why you pulled them closer together, “I love you guys!” you shouted, which only made them laugh.

“Oh my gosh, she’s the emotional type of drunk,” Yizhuo giggled. 

“She only says that when she’s drunk, so savor it,” Wonyoung replied, hugging you back. “I love you too!” making the three of you squeal together before breaking out to continue dancing. 

You only let your body sway along with the music, not noticing a hand wrapping around your waist and as you turn around, you see a guy your age, smiling at you as he hands you his shot glass. 

“No thank you,” you smiled, “I already have one.” 

But he only laughed, “there’s no harm in having another one.”

You only let out a small giggle as you shrug, taking the shot and drinking it straight. You can hear his cheer, along with some guys that you’re unfamiliar with. You failed to notice Yizhuo and Wonyoung whereabouts as you continued to dance with the stranger. 

“You come here often?” he asked, and you only shook your head. 

“It’s too crowded here!” you shouted back. The place was getting hotter, crowds becoming bigger as the guy’s body became way too close to you. 

“Crowded huh? Do you want to go somewhere less crowded?” 

Maybe it was the alcohol — you don’t know, your head’s spinning and everything has become blurry to you, but all you can remember was that you nod at his answer. “Okay! I’m just going to tell my friends I’m leaving.”

“Alright sweetheart.” he smirked, his hold from your waist loosened. 

You tried to find your friends, but your mind is spinning — you couldn’t even remember where your table was. Your head searched sideways, when you felt a tug on your arm, making you turn around.

“She’s not going with you,” Sunghoon said with a cold tone.

“Dude fuck off, go pick some other girls around here,” the stranger tried to pull you away but Sunghoon was fast, immediately backing you behind him. 

“She’s my fiance, if you don’t want any trouble, get lost,” Sunghoon warns. 

“Fuck off Sunghoon,” you rebutted, shaking your grip away from Sunghoon who was surprised by your action. “We’re through, remember?” 

The stranger chuckled, “she doesn’t even want you here, so fuck off, will ya?”

But it didn’t take a split second for Sunghoon to hit  him on the face. His fist landing directly on the nose which made the stranger stumble down. 

Everyone was surprised when the guy fell on the ground, immediately stepping out from the fight. Sunghoon attempted to give the guy another punch but Heeseung and Jay managed to grab him. You didn’t process everything until you felt Wonyoung and Yunjin were behind you. 

“What happened — Sunghoon!” Wonyoung shrieks. The stranger stood up from the ground, but Sunghoon was quick to get away from his friend and charge towards him, landing another punch, and if it wasn’t enough, he landed another, this time harder. 

It didn’t take a minute for the bouncers to enter the scene, separating the two of them. You weren’t able to understand anything, all you know was that your friends pulled you out of the club along with Sunghoon and his friends. 

“Dude calm down,” Heeseung said trying to keep his friend still but Sunghoon pulled away, almost jabbing his friend who only stepped back with hands raised. 

“How can I fucking calm down when y/n almost got in danger tonight!?” he pointed out.

“You almost killed someone!” Jay shouted, trying to get a grip on Sunghoon but he got pushed away too. 

“He should be lucky because I hold back a little bit,” Sunghoon sarcastically laughs. “He deserves it, the way he looked at y/n? I know he has bad intentions.” 

“Stop caring Sunghoon!” you shouted, senses finally hitting you. “So what if I’ll go with that guy? We’re done, remember? I can meet whoever I like.” 

“I don’t care if we’re through, you couldn’t even take care of yourself. What the fuck are you even doing at a club?” Sunghoon lectured.

That’s when you scoff, “just because you can have fun, doesn’t me I can.”

“Oh, so that’s your idea of fun? Getting drugged by a stranger and who knows what they’ll do to you — fucking careless,” Sunghoon lets out a deep sigh, his anger heightening as he glared at Wonyoung. 

“If it wasn’t for me, she would’ve been in danger tonight, what the hell Won!?” Sunghoon angrily lectures. 

“Sunghoon stop blaming us, we were there and we were just letting y/n have fun, we’re not that stupid to let her go with that guy. You just really have to interfere first,” Wonyoung explained, forehead creased with anger.

Sunghoon could only roll his eyes, groaning as he frustratedly brushed his hair. “This is fucking stupid, you three aren’t even safe there!” 

“Just go home Sunghoon,” you shouted once again, making him glance at you. “You’re ruining our night for fuck’s sake.”

But in a split second, Sunghoon pulls you away from Yizhuo, and before you could say another thing, he grabs you by your knees and swings you on his shoulders, your upper body bumping on his back. 

“Sunghoon! Put me down!” you shouted, punching his back but Sunghoon remained unfazed, he then glanced at his friends who were surprised by his action.

“No one follows, this is between the two of us,” Sunghoon warned before he walked towards his car. 

You tried to struggle your way out of his hold, but Sunghoon’s too strong for you. He managed to put you in the passenger seat, even putting on the belt on you. 

“Sunghoon —” 

“Stop struggling y/n, we’ll go home now.” 

“Sunghoon, what fuck is wrong with you? We’re done, how many times do I have to tell you that!?” you shouted at him. “You’re suffocating me.”

“And so do I with you, but we can’t always have what we want.” Sunghoon stated, slamming the door of the car. You weren’t able to say another word, not knowing what he meant by that.

The drive towards your place was quiet yet tense, you could only close your eyes as the throbbing feeling in your head started to become worse. You had too many to drink but all you know that what the guy gave you was just a normal shot. If it would’ve been drugged, then you should’ve been passed-out by now. 

As Sunghoon parked the car inside, you could only stare at the entrance of the house. You do miss your house but there’s a deep feeling of pain lingering in your heart as it reminds you of Sunghoon. You didn’t even notice that Sunghoon had opened the door for you, and you mindlessly left the car. 

Entering the living room, you only stood there as you stare at the place — Sunghoon had maintained it clean even though you left, surprising you since you spent your mornings cleaning the house. 

You can hear the door closing, softly Sunghoon’s footsteps approach you but he stops midway. That’s when you realized how suffocating the emptiness the house had. 

“What is this Sunghoon?” you immediately asked, not even bothering looking at him.

“I just took you home,” Sunghoon simply said and you wanted to laugh. Home. you knew that home meant a lively house with a loving family, not a tense one with a broken engagement. 

“Sunghoon, since it still hasn’t sunk in your mind, our engagement is done, isn’t that what you want?” you repeated. 

“Well, did you even tell that to your parents?” Sunghoon asked casually. “My parents don’t know it yet.” 

You didn’t answer and Sunghoon immediately knew. 

“Of course you haven’t,” he teased. “That technically means we’re still engaged to each other.” 

You only closed your eyes, trying to compose yourself as you felt conflicted. “I don’t understand you Sunghoon, what do you even want? You made it very clear back then that you’d prefer to marry Wonyoung instead of me. Why bring me here again!?”

“I don’t know,” Sunghoon confessed. “It’s just…it’s so lonely here.” 

“I’m not a doll that you can keep,” you heaved. 

“I miss you.” he breathes, and your eyes widen but you could only let out a bitter laugh. 

“Suddenly you miss me? Sunghoon the last time you told me, you don’t want to marry me. Shouldn’t you be happy that we’re done.”

“That doesn’t equate to the fact that I don’t want to call off the engagement,” he stated. 

“You’re confusing me Sunghoon, stand your ground, you don’t want to marry me but you don’t want the engagement to be broken? What do you even want?”

“I was hoping that your mind might change,” Sunghoon said, almost pleading. “That somewhere in you, there’s that girl who first recognized my talent.” 

Silence. You weren’t able to say another word. Slowly, you turned around to see him standing there. His gaze at you gentle and pleading, far different from the looks he gave to you. 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” Sunghoon told you. “Do you remember what you told me?”

Of course. “You have a talent for playing the piano!” you recalled. It was the first thing you said when both your parents introduced you to Sunghoon. It didn’t sinked into you that those words of your younger self would stick in Sunghoon’s mind. 

“When I first joined the band, I thought you’ll be supportive because you’re the first one to recognize my love for playing the piano, but nothing,” Sunghoon chuckles bitterly. “I was hoping that someday, you would understand why I am chasing after my passion. That’s why I was so happy that you watched our performance that night — but you’re too stuck in that dream of yours to recognize it.” 

“It’s not just a dream Hoon, it's what's expected from me, and being a doctor, that’s what’s also expected from you.”

“Have you ever thought of what you want? Are you just going to wake up everyday, listen to your parents’ expectations and follow it? Do you have any idea how sad that is?” 

“I’m my parents’ only daughter, who else is going to make them proud aside from me?” you bitterly said. “And I want this too Hoon, so I’m sorry if my dream isn’t in the form of a passion unlike yours.”

“You’re not going to change your mind aren’t you?” Sunghoon mumbled. “I only pursued my passion and suddenly I’m not fit for your life anymore?” 

“It’s not just about having a perfect life, Hoon. My parents wanted me to marry a doctor, and I’m not going to push you anymore when it’s obvious that your heart beats for your passion.” you explained. 

“What about your heart then? What does your heart yearn for? You’re not going to fight for me anymore?” he said, almost pleading. A desperate turn in his tone shifted in you. 

“I’m done fighting for you Hoon,” you bitterly smiled. “Why are you suddenly asking me all of this?”

“You’re done with me? That’s it?” 

“Sunghoon, I’m really, really tired with everything.” you pleaded. “We’re just going to hurt each other the more we stay in this engagement.”

Sunghoon only stared at you. For a moment, he wanted to rebut your words. He wanted for you to fight furthermore because he knows you. You’re hard-headed, you’re not the type that won’t give up easily. But as he looks in your eyes, all he can is your desperation, eyes that scream for him that you’re tired of everything. 

“You’re really tired aren’t you?” he asked once again. 

“Just let me go Hoon, please.” you whispered. 

“Fine,” he said, defeated. “Only if you stay for the night.”

“What?” you asked, his request was sudden.

“Stay for the night, for me,” he said, almost pleading. “After this, I won’t disturb you anymore. Please, just stay for tonight.” 

It didn’t sink in everything he said, you could only stare at him, eyes wide as you can see how his eyes were almost begging for you. 

“I just…miss you so much,” he whispered. “But after this, we’re done. I’m going to tell my parents that we’re breaking off the engagement.” 

“Okay,” you said in defeat, and Sunghoon could only nod. He grabs your hand and you let him do so.

You found yourself in his room. The silence was engulfing, you stood there clueless as Sunghoon opened his closet, grabbing a shirt and pajamas for you — like you didn’t have any clothes left in your room next door. But you let it be, grabbing the clothes and going towards his bedroom’s bathroom. 

You can feel your heart beating fast. You were nervous, you don’t know what to do since this is the first time you and Sunghoon will sleep together. Sure, you had sleepovers back when you were kids, but those were the three of you. This one is just going to be the two of you, alone, in one bed.

But that’s his only request, when tomorrow comes, everything will be over now. It’s not like you two are going to do something, Sunghoon only wishes for you to stay for the night.

As you entered the room, you saw Sunghoon sitting on the edge of his bed, already in his sleeping clothes. He only stretched out his hands which you accepted and softly, he pulled you to his bed. 

“Let’s go to sleep?” he asked, almost inaudible. You only nod at his request and with that, the two of you settled underneath the blankets. You couldn’t even move, you had your back against Sunghoon and you wondered if he’s already asleep or not. 

It was as if he had read your mind, you felt Sunghoon shifted from his place — and in a second, warm arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. Your breath halted as his hug tightened, your back almost resting on his chest, like he’s never wanting to let you go. It left you even more confused than ever, you two were never this intimate, and this will probably be the last time you two will be. 

“Goodnight y/n,” he whispered, and you can feel his lips touching the top of your head. 

Goodnight Sunghoon. You said in your mind.

“I’m sorry for everything.” Sunghoon mumbled, barely audible. 

You only closed your eyes, taking a long deep breath to hold yourself from crying. You wondered why he suddenly apologized. Why now? When everything is bound to be over. But you didn’t say a word, you tried to sleep instead, knowing that there’s no will inside you left to fight for yourself and Sunghoon. 

Goodbye Sunghoon.

-

The first semester has ended. The weather has become cold as fall passes by. Decelis University has slowly become empty with students going home to their hometown. 

The remaining months of your semester became a blur to you. You passed all your courses with ease and you managed to receive an academic honor for it. Emails from medical school offers had been appearing in your emails too, which meant that you’re secured to attend med school after graduation. Everything has been good to you — you got everything you need.

When you returned to your hometown, your parents spared you. They told you that they understand why you did it, letting it pass since you didn’t abandon your studies at all. They learned from Sunghoon’s parents that the engagement was called off. They didn’t ask you furthermore about it, and you could do nothing but to apologize not only to your parents but also to the Park family. Disappointment runs through your mind, especially when Sunghoon’s parents trusted you with their son — only for you to fail them.

A knock on the door disturbed your day, as you turned around you saw your parents entering your room. 

“Still studying dear? You’re doing too much now y/n,” your mom softly said, sitting on the edge of the bed along with your father. 

But you only smile, “I want to make sure that I’ll be able to pass Decelis’ entrance exam for medical school, you told me that the passing rate there is small.”

“Yes I know that sweetie but you’re doing too much, why don’t you do something else aside from studying?” your father suggested. 

But you only let out a laugh, “I'm all good dad, thanks for the concern though.”

“Have you ever thought of doing something else y/n? Something that you love?” your mom asked. That’s when you dropped your book, glancing at the two of them.

“Love?” 

“A hobby, what about tennis? You’re great at that sport, maybe you can be an athlete,” your mom happily said. 

“Oh, I do remember that you used to do ballet, I think you still have the skills sweetie,” your father added, which left you confused but chuckling. 

“Mom, dad, what is this all about?” you asked. Silence hovered in the room for a minute, both your parents looked at each other, trying to signal each other who should talk, which left your mother sighing. 

“Maybe, we shouldn’t have pushed you too hard to become a doctor,” your mother pointed out. “And it’s okay for us if you don’t want —”

“I want to become a doctor mom, that has always been my dream,” you rebutted, shifting your focus on your book. “I’m okay, don’t worry about me.”

“We had a talk with Sunghoon’s parents,” that’s when you stopped, glancing at them once again. “They explained why you two called it off.”

“Okay,” you shortly replied. You remember that night where you and Sunghoon slept together. His apology still lingers in your mind. There’s a part of you that wanted to know what he was sorry for. 

But the more you stay there, the more the pain deepens in your heart. You slipped away from his hold the next morning, and starting that day, you never heard anything from Sunghoon. 

He didn’t show up to any of his classes. He just disappeared like a bubble. Wonyoung told you that he doesn’t reply to her texts either. You don’t know if he continued performing in Arcanum, or did he ghost his band members. It’s funny how even though you two are already over, you still have a bit of concern for him. 

“Sweetie, we understand Sunghoon. He chose his dream and maybe it was a little disappointing for you because you always dream that you and Sunghoon will become doctors together, but there will come a point where your dream will change.” your father explained. “Sunghoon just so happens to rekindle his passion for music, it happens.” 

“And there’s nothing I can do about it,” you told them. “That’s why there’s no reason for the engagement to continue.”

“We shouldn’t have pressured you to become a doctor,” your mother insisted. “We were wrong in that part, and we’re very sorry about it dear.”

“Mom, even if you don’t pressure me, I still want to become a doctor no matter what, I will follow your footsteps, so don’t be sorry about it.”

“It’s not just about becoming a doctor,” your father pointed out. “It’s about your engagement with Sunghoon, we shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s already over, so you shouldn’t worry about it.”

“Listen y/n, when we set you and Sunghoon to marry, it’s not for our business to emerge. We just knew that you two love each other.” your father explained, hand resting on your knees. The old man faintly smiles at you. “You two were too young to understand it, but it was also our fault for putting so much expectations on the two of you — we should’ve let you two navigate your feelings on your own.” 

“But you said, I should marry a doctor,” you pointed out. “I always knew that it’s going to be Sunghoon, but he changed dad. If he can’t be the one, I’ll just find someone in med school.”

“Oh sweetie, we’re terribly sorry for saying that,” that’s when your mother pulls you to a hug. “But we still want you to marry for love, and dear, it’s not always about his profession, but how he’s going to treat you as your husband.”

“Why now? Why say that to me all of the sudden?” you questioned, breaking out from your mother’s touch.

“We didn’t think it’ll come to this point —”

“No, because from the very start you two insisted that I should marry a doctor because that’s what you two wanted for me! I was lucky that Sunghoon wanted to become a doctor but when he changed his dreams, I did everything just for him to go back!” you shouted.

Both your parents were surprised to hear your voice raise. You stood there, shaking as tears started to flow from your eyes once again.

“I did everything in my life just to please your expectations because I know that you two always know what’s best for me, and I didn’t want to fail you guys. But now, I feel so stupid because suddenly, I have the freedom to choose what I want,” a bitter laugh escapes your mouth, you brushed your hair as you bit your lips. Trying to stop the tears from falling.

“I even roped Sunghoon in my dreams because that’s what you guys want for me, and I was scared of disappointing you two if he didn’t become a doctor — you could’ve told me from the start! Then maybe, I could’ve supported Sunghoon instead of suffocating him.” 

Your parents remained quiet. Sitting there as they watch their daughter cry. Both of them were surprised, never thinking they’ll see you cry. You have always been a strong girl for them, but then again, everyone crumbles. 

“We can still fix it dear,” your mother insisted. 

“It’s too late now mom,” you answered. “It’s not just about the engagement, Sunghoon and I, we’re done with everything. We spent our lives living up to your expectations, and this is the only time we made a choice for ourselves.”

Before they could say anything. You scurried to grab your phone and jacket, storming out of your room as your parents couldn’t do anything but watch you disappear from their sight. 

You found yourself at the small playground near your house. Sitting on the end of the slide as you hiccup your cries.

You hate your parents and how their mind suddenly changed in a glimpse. Marry for love? Love was never the problem for you, it was the fact that they spent your whole life shaping you into an ideal life only for them to take it back. You’ll marry for love in a heartbeat but it never crossed your mind because their expectations came first. 

If only. You could only think of the what-ifs because somehow, you spent your whole life making your parents proud — that you couldn’t even make a choice on your own. “Do you have any idea how sad that is?” you remember Sunghoon’s words to you, making you close your eyes as tears continued to flow along with your soft sobs.

Sunghoon’s right. All your life you did your best to follow your parents’ footsteps, never tried to navigate other hobbies or passions — perhaps that’s why you weren’t able to understand Sunghoon’s dreams at all. You suddenly felt lost, not knowing what to do with your life anymore. Sunghoon and Wonyoung, they’ll be choosing the things they love.

What about you? You don’t know anymore, you don’t even know if becoming a doctor is what you want — or it’s just something that has been engraved to you by your parents that you learned to love it somehow. 

“y/n?” You looked up and to your surprise, Sunghoon’s mother was standing in front of you. 

“Auntie,” you quickly stood up and wiped the tears away. “What brings you here?”

“I was supposed to visit you today,” she said with a soft tone. “But I caught you here on the way, is there something wrong?” 

You immediately fake a smile, even though your nose was runny and eyes are puffy red, you tried your best to assure the woman that you’re okay. But she simply shakes her head before patting your head. 

“Come on, let’s have a talk.”

You two ended up in a small coffee shop nearby. You watch as Mrs. Park lightly sips on her tea, before glancing at you. She then smiles, and you can see where Sunghoon got his eye smile, and somehow, that comforts you. 

“When Sunghoon told us that he wanted to play for a band instead, we were disappointed,” Mrs. Park explained. “His dad was furious, but what else can we do? Stop him from doing what he loves?”

You only remained quiet, listening to Mrs. Park as she softly chuckled. “As parents, we only want what’s best for our children, but it’s still up to them to choose their future. For Sunghoon, we let him be, it’s what he wants.”

Then, she glances at you. “You know, Sunghoon broke the engagement because he doesn’t want to hurt you anymore?”

“I’m sorry I gave up on him.” you apologized immediately. “We — we’re just too different auntie.”

“Well, opposites do attract my dear,” she jokingly said, making you let out a small chuckle. From there, her expression softens. Looking at you pitifully, the woman can see the stress you went through and it breaks her heart, knowing that they were the reasons why you’re like that. 

“You’ve done a lot for my son y/n, and I am thankful for that,” Mrs. Park smiles. “You’ll be a great wife for him, someone who’ll come to knock his senses but — everyone gets tired sometimes.” 

You only smile at her, but Mrs. Park’s eyes glistened with a meaningful smile on her lips. “That’s why it’s important to rest, everything is not the end just because you were tired.” 

You became quiet because of her words. Mrs. Park stretches her hand, holding your hand as she squeezed it lightly. “Just rest dear, take your time for yourself, everything is not too late.”

“But —”

“Listen to your heart this time dear, only your heart knows what’s truly best for you.”

-

You returned to your shared house a week before the next semester started. 

The moment you opened the door, you were welcomed by its hollow silence, making you bitterly smile because you do miss the silence — and you’ll miss it more now that it won’t be the place you’ll go home to.

Slowly, you opened your room and noticed that it was the same as how you left it the night you ran away. Sunghoon didn’t touch any of it, and you were glad that he didn’t. You didn’t waste any time, you grabbed the luggage that you brought with you, packing all the things that you have in your room. 

You spent the day packing your things. Neatly folding everything, and stacking it inside your storage box. You managed to finish it before sunset, going back and forth to load it inside your car. And with one last glance in the empty room, you could only mutter goodbye as you dragged your luggage with you. 

But as soon as you reach the living room, you hear the doorknob unlocking, making you stop. You can feel your heart starting to beat fast, praying that it won’t be him. 

“Y/n?” you saw how Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he saw you, but his eyes immediately darted at the luggage that you were holding. 

You only took a deep breath before giving him a smile, “I just came by to grab my things.” 

“Wait, wait — why?” Sunghoon hurriedly went towards you, hands grabbing your arm. 

“Our engagement’s over Sunghoon, so there’s no need for us to be together,” you gritted your teeth. Every word felt like a knife stabbing inside you. 

“Y/n, can you just listen to me —”

“Sunghoon stop, there’s nothing for us to talk about.” 

“You know that everything’s not too late right? We can still fix it.”

“What’s to fix Sunghoon?” you asked. “I thought we made it clear that we’re done.”

“If you’re done fighting for me, then I’m fighting for you now,” Sunghoon insisted, grabbing you by your shoulders. You tried to get out of his hold but he tightens his hold on you. 

“Why now Hoon? Where were you, when I was fighting for everything? You can’t just enter my life and expect me to accept you immediately —”

“I love you okay!?” he shouted, completely shutting you off. Eyes wide from the sudden confession. 

Sunghoon looks at you, his eyes stressed and dark, yet it screams for your plea. “I’m sorry that I realized my feelings just now, I know I was late but it’s never too late for us, just listen to me —”

“Hoon stop —”

“Y/n, just for once why don’t you listen to your heart?” Sunghoon stated. “You know deep inside, that it’s not too late for us to fix it. Your parents, my parents, they know that it’s not too late, it’s only you who doesn’t want to —"

“Because I’m scared, Hoon!” you shouted, shutting Sunghoon off. 

“I don’t know what to do with my life anymore Hoon and that fucking scares me. Suddenly I have my own freedom and I don’t know whether my decisions will be right or wrong. If I end up choosing what my heart wants, I might just ended up failing myself”

“You know you don’t always need to be perfect right?” Sunghoon whispered to you. “People make mistakes y/n, we’re flawed, and there’s nothing wrong with making mistakes.”

You only shake your head. “I don’t know Hoon, I don’t know what I should do anymore.”

“Just listen to your heart,” The hold on your shoulders tightens. “Go for the things you love, not because it’s what your parents taught you, or because it’s what’s for the best. You know this y/n, what do you want?” 

You. You thought. In a heartbeat, it has always been Sunghoon. Despite all the mess, the rough paths, and fights you two had. In the end, your heart beats for him. 

And as you look at him, there were no longer cold gaze and emptiness in his eyes, his eyes yearn for you too. The years of your unrequited love for him are over now.

“It’s you Hoon,” you mumbled, a bite on your lips as you started stuttering. “I’m just afraid after everything that happened to us.”

“We can work it out, we may have started on a rough path but I know that we can make it through.” he deeply sighs. “I’m sorry for everything, I know I said some harsh words but I was angry at that time, I’m sorry y/n, I was just frustrated but I didn’t mean every word that I said, it has always been you,”

You only stared at him, “how can I trust you Sunghoon?”

“Let me make it up to you y/n,” he swore, hands finding its way to your face. “If you let me, I’ll prove it to you.”

“How? How can I be so sure about you?”

“We’ll start again y/n, don’t worry about us, we’ll navigate this together, I won’t hurt you anymore.” Sunghoon promised. “Just be with me okay? You’ll be there for me right?” 

You only stared at Sunghoon. He has his lips tightly sealed, his eyes were searching for yours, the same eyes that yearned for you that night. Your heart started beating faster, and you weren’t able to process that tears are starting to fall from your eyes. Your mind was telling you to run away again, but your heart — it beats for him. 

You don’t know what to say, you only nod at his words. That’s when Sunghoon understood what you meant. Slowly he leans in, closing the space between the two of you. 

You always thought that your first kiss with Sunghoon would be at your wedding. After you two exchange vows. It'll be short yet momentary. Significant in your life and a symbol that you and Sunghoon are going to be together, forever. 

But as he kissed you right now after swearing to prove his worth for you, that’s when it halted you that Sunghoon’s words weren’t just empty promises. The way his lips trailed on yours, hands holding your face gently as he tilts more to deepen the kiss — making you kiss him back, softly yet surely.

You two weren’t wearing your wedding clothes, no rings, nor applauses from the crowd. It’s just the two of you, alone, in your house’ living room.

As you two broke from the kiss, Sunghoon’s forehead rested on yours, catching each other’s breath, you can see the small smile forming on Sunghoon’s lips. 

“Tell me it’s true Sunghoon,” you whispered to him, eyes never leaving him. “I want to hear it from you.”

“I love you y/n,” Sunghoon confesses. “It has always been you, and no one else.” 

You could only chuckle in disbelief as you felt a tear fall from your eyes, Sunghoon quickly wiped it off with his thumb before pulling you for another kiss, to which you responded quickly. From there, everything started to heat up, you could only place your arms around Sunghoon’s neck as you two continued to kiss like there’s no tomorrow. 

Sunghoon didn’t waste any second. He grabs you by your thighs, lifting you up with ease without breaking the kiss, while you wrap your legs around his waist for support. The two of you ended up in his room wherein he gently placed you down to his bed. 

“Are you sure about this?” he softly asked, eyes never leaving yours. He looks at you lovingly, like he was mesmerized that you’re his. 

“I’m sure,” you answered. “And I’m sure that it’s going to be you Sunghoon.” 

“I’ll take good care of you then,” Sunghoon answered before leaning down for another kiss. You only closed your eyes and kissed Sunghoon back. 

You can feel it. The longing of tasting each other. The way Sunghoon kisses you gently, taking his time to savor you as he deepens his lips on you more. Soft nibbles on your lower lip making you whimper softly.

It went on and on, no one dared to break the kiss. Both hands trying to navigate each other. His right hand finds its way to yours, clasping between your fingers as he rests it on the side of your head. 

Sunghoon breaks from the kiss, but immediately places his lips on your jawline until it reaches your neck. Planting soft kisses like he wanted to taste every skin of yours. His left hand finds its way to your body, gently tracing your upper body as you grasp on his sheets. 

“Can I?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shirt, which you nodded feverishly. You lifted yourself slightly for Sunghoon to remove your shirt before removing his shirt too. His toned body, and carved abs revealed in front of you which you could only stare for a minute. Who would’ve thought that underneath those baggy hoodies and large shirts, is a godlike body? 

On the other hand, Sunghoon didn’t waste any time, he grabs your face once again, locking you to a kiss that’s more intense, hungrier than earlier. He was battling to get a taste of you more, tongue swiping on your lower lip making you moan, you could only shut your eyes as Sunghoon sloppily entered his tongue inside you.

Teeths clashing, tongue travelling inside you, your body started to heat up as Sunghoon continued to taste your lips further. He then started targeting your neck, making you tilt your head to make room for him. Hot, messy, wet kisses trailing on every skin his lips could reach. You let out a soft moan as Sunghoon’s hands trailed towards your bra, softly cupping your breast while his lips continued to bite your neck, sucking it lightly leaving purple marks all over it.  

“So beautiful, only for me right?” he whispered to your left ear, planting a kiss on it before glancing at you. 

“Only for you Hoon,” you whispered back, Sunghoon merely chuckling before darting his eyes on your lower body. 

“Is this your first?” he asked, you only nod.

“Been waiting for you.” you muttered, and the next thing you knew, Sunghoon’s lips were on yours once again. 

“Good girl, we’ll make it worth it yeah?” Sunghoon asked. “It’ll be special for us, we’ll be each other’s first. I told you I’ll prove my worth to you.” 

Sunghoon gently unbuttons your pants before tugging it downwards, leaving you in your panties while he hastily removes his shorts, leaving him in his boxers. 

“Come here love,” he gestured as he sat on the mattress, you only followed him as he pulled you to sit on his lap. A gasp leaving your lips as you could only hold your breath, feeling Sunghoon hard underneath. He’s big. You can feel it as you sit prettily on it, your clothed cunt just right above it. 

Your thoughts only trailed off as Sunghoon continued to kiss you, hands attempting to unclasp your bra which made you chuckle in the middle of your makeout. You helped him unclasp it before throwing the bra somewhere. 

“So fucking gorgeous for me,” Sunghoon gestured. His hands started circling on your boobs, cupping your right side making you whimper. Sunghoon's eyes never leaving yours as his hands trailed downwards, fingers tracing every skin of your body until it reached the hem of your panties. 

“Is it okay?” he asked. 

“Please Sunghoon,” you pleaded, unable to ignore the heat that you’ve been feeling. 

Sunghoon’s fingers delicately feather on your clothed pussy. You softly moan as his palms cup it, rubbing on it as the slightest friction heats you furthermore. You wanted more, unknowingly you bucked your hips to his hand. Sunghoon fastens the way he rubs your pussy as you continue grinding against it. 

“Sunghoon —” 

“Do you want to touch mine too?” he asked, tone deeper than usual. You only stared at him for a good minute before you nod. 

Sunghoon grabs your hand, gently guides it until your palm rests on his hard-on. It’s straining underneath his boxer, and just from your touch, you know that one hand wasn’t enough. You palmed it slowly, hearing soft breathing Sunghoon which fueled something in you.

“Can I do it?” you asked, your hands trailing on the hem of his boxer. 

“Go on love,” he whispered, planting a kiss on your temple. 

You pulled Sunghoon’s boxer, his hard length springing from it. Hard and thick, you looked at Sunghoon as you wrapped your hands around it, and you’re right, one hand isn’t enough. Your hands reach its tip, the pre-cum budding on its end, having you smear it as you circled your palms on his tip. 

You watched as Sunghoon looked at you darkly. A faint smirk on his lips as you felt his fingers slipped under your panties, you let out a soft moan as his fingers found their way on your pussy. Softly trailing on its lips before going up to your clit, three fingers circling it slowly which made you twitch for a second. 

Your hands started to stroke Sunghoon’s cock, slow and steady like you're memorizing every inch of it. It goes the same with him as he continues to rub your clit, harder leaving you breathless as you continue to pump his cock faster, squeezing his tip at every chance that you can. Earning breathy groans from him. 

“Going to prepare you love, just breathe for me okay?” Sunghoon instructed and you could only moan in response. Your other hand found its hold on his shoulders, head resting on it as you nervously can feel his fingers near your entrance. 

“You’re so wet for me, so fucking good,” he whispered to you, before slipping inside your pussy. You let out a deep sigh as his index finger rested inside you. “Just relax for me okay?” slowly he drags his fingers in and out, watching you fall in front of him as you couldn’t do anything but to leave breathy moans. 

“Sunghoon —” you called out as you could feel him insert another finger inside you, the sudden move made you squeeze his dick hard, making Sunghoon curse under his breath. You mindlessly continued to stroke it as Sunghoon’s fingers circled inside you. 

“Relax for me love, we don’t want to hurt you,” Sunghoon assured, kissing your right temple as he continued to finger you. It’s playing inside you, knuckles deep as his long fingers kept pumping inside you, curling at a spot that you feel sensitive the most. He’s stretching you, trying his best to prepare you, his fingers continue to scissor your walls at a right pace, reaching deep inside you.

“I want to come,” you mumbled as you could feel it coming inside you. Your hands gave up on stroking his dick, which made Sunghoon slow down his actions.

“You’re going to come with me inside, can you do that?” you quickly nod in his words, kissing his lips as he removed his fingers from you. You didn’t miss the way your pussy ached, but Sunghoon was quick to grab your waist. 

Gently, he lays you down on his bed, and you watch as he reaches for his bedroom’s drawer, pulling the upper box and scavenging something there. 

“Why —”

“Just making sure we’re safe,” Sunghoon told you. 

“Yeah, but why do you have that…” you mindlessly asked, heat rushing towards your cheeks as you stared at Sunghoon. 

“Heeseung gave it to me as a joke —” Sunghoon groans, embarrassed. “But at least we’re safe, right?”

“Right,” you whispered, leaning more against the pillow. 

Sunghoon removes his boxer. Your eyes wandered at his cock again, hard and lengthy, you could only bite your lips as you wondered how it would fit you. Sunghoon eyes on you, like he's ready to devour as he pumps his cock with his right hand while he bites on the foil packet, tearing it open and grabbing the condom, sheathing it on his already sensitive cock. 

Both of you never left each other’s gaze, you lifted your lower body for you to remove your panties, shamelessly spreading your legs in front of him. Your heart started to beat fast, nervousness started to hit you, but you were only assured when Sunghoon planted another kiss on your lips. 

“Take a deep breath for me, okay? I’ll put on the tip first,” he guided you. You only nod at his words, laying back as you try to relax yourself. 

Sunghoon could only bite his lips as he stared at you, legs spread with your glistening pussy on display. You’re his. You’re his to keep. Something about that thought had Sunghoon’s heart racing, unraveling a feeling of having you all by himself. 

Sunghoon kneels in front of you, hands on your thighs as he hovers over you. He grabs his cock, stroking it steadily making him hiss lightly, at the same time, he grazes it on your cunt’s lips, making you moan. 

You took a deep breath as you felt Sunghoon’s dick on your entrance, its girth enough for you to whimper even though it was just a tip. Sunghoon kept on glancing at you, trying to test if you can take it, careful as he pushed his tip inside you, making you let out a soft groan. 

“Fuck Hoon,” you said, feeling your entrance tearing apart. 

“It’s just my tip love,” Sunghoon told you, “we can stop if you want —”

“No, no, I want it,” you let out a sigh. “Please, just go slowly.” 

“You want it all inside?” Sunghoon asked, eyes wide. 

“I want to feel you, Hoon.”

Sunghoon was hesitant, seeing your eyes start to water, he was scared. You noticed the way his expression shifted, quickly pulling him for a short kiss with your eyes firm on him. There, he was assured, a short nod as a signal. 

“Alright, relax for me okay? We’ll take it slow.” 

Sunghoon started slow. Only pushing his tip in and out, so that you can still feel good. Then, he started to insert himself inside you, slow and careful while you could only take hasty breaths, holding it every time you felt yourself getting stretched. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” Sunghoon whispered. “So small and tight, you really waited for me huh?”

“Hoon —”

“It’s okay baby, I can move if you want me to,” Sunghoon assured. 

You tried to adjust to his size, you’re too full and his dick’s fully sheathed inside you, but it feels good, you wanted more of him. You tried to move, bucking your hips upwards to test the waters, making Sunghoon glance at you. 

“You wanted it baby?” he asked, before spreading your legs wider, wrapping it around his waist as he hovered over you. 

“You can move now Hoon,” you said. 

Sunghoon moved for a bit, carefully checking on you in case you might get hurt. But you quickly nodded, he pulled his dick out of your pussy, eyes surprised as the blood smeared all over the condom. It’s normal. He thought, but it still made him worried. 

“I think I tore you,” he mumbled to you.

“I don’t care,” you replied. “Fuck, just put it in Hoon.” 

With that, Sunghoon chuckles darkly. “Impatient already?”

Without a warning, Sunghoon pushes himself inside you, making you heave out a moan. A mouthful of curses leaving his lips as he started to thrust himself inside you. A steady pace that’s not rough enough for you but will leave you crying out of pleasure. He continued doing so, until he fastened his pace, too lost in the pleasure of his cock ramming your walls. Sunghoon could only utterly groan as your pussy continued sucking him in. 

“Only for me —” Sunghoon moans. “So tight for me, there’s my good girl.”

“Hoon —” 

“Want me to go faster? Want to take all of me?”

“Please — ugh, faster please.”

Sunghoon answers your pleas, grabbing your waist, lifting your stomach area, and in a second, he pulls his cock slowly and slams it inside you harshly, making you moan loudly as the pleasure was too much for you. Hands tightly gripping the sheets as your toes started to curl. Only wanton moans and Sunghoon’s names would leave out of your lips, calling his name like a mantra as his dick keeps on abusing your hole, reaching to the deepest part, feeling how his tip rubs a sensitive spot. 

“Hoon, want you —” you called out, stretching your hands which Sunghoon eagerly accepted. Both hands intertwined, placed both either on the sides of your head as Sunghoon continued to thrust inside you. 

Sunghoon locks his lips on you once again. A feverish makeout, making everything hot yet intimate as both your bodies were glued together. Skin to skin, not minding the warm temperature the room exceeds and how sticky both you are with your sweats. All that matters was how he kisses your lips like it’s his last meal on Earth, savoring the taste of it while his cock underneath fastens its pace.

“You’re so beautiful, all mine right?” he growled on your lips, making a short thrust which left you gasping. He can feel it, your pussy tightening, almost wanting for him to not leave, he continues to thrust in such pace as he watches your face distorting in an unreadable expression.

“Come on, say it love,” he commanded, giving you another thrust so hard that you choke under your breath. 

“All y-yours! Fuck —” you cried, everything is too overwhelming for you. But Sunghoon was relaxed as he continued abusing your pussy. 

“So good for me,” Sunghoon kisses your temples. 

You could only close your eyes, too shut that it hurts. Concealing every cry as your legs started to shake, stomach coiling, and unable to control your breathing. 

“Hoon —”

“Gonna come now love?” you heard Sunghoon asked, and your choked moan was the only thing you could say. 

“Let’s come together, hold it for me can you?” Sunghoon fastened his pace, leaving you crying out of pleasure. He can feel everything tightening, his dick twitching indicating that he’s also near. It didn’t help that you’re sucking him hard. Everything just feels good for both of you, but Sunghoon wanted for it not to end. He wanted to linger more, to touch you more until he memorized everything about you. 

“Fuck —” Sunghoon was almost shaking, his grip on your hand tighten as he glances at you one last time, he leans forward sealing you to a kiss so soft that it completely contrasts how the rough thrusts that he gives. 

“Go on, come,” he whispered to you, thrusting sharply that you could only moan as your wave of orgasm came rushing inside you. Your legs shake violently as you let out soft breathing and whimpers. You weren't able to sink in how Sunghoon groaned at the same time as you, his thrust becoming sloppy as he came inside the condom. He thrusted a few times before pulling out, you could only whine because of the loss, not being able to process as Sunghoon lay down beside you. 

Sunghoon quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you a hug which only makes you drowsy. You can feel his skin against you, his warm touch that felt more nothing but a comfort to you.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. 

“It does,” you answered. Now that the high has left you, you can feel your cunt aching due to the sudden penetration. It did feel good but you didn’t expect for it to still ache afterwards. 

“I’ll run a bath for us, don’t sleep on me yet,” he suggested. 

“But I’m sleepy,” you mumbled. “Can we just stay like this?”

“Let’s clean each other first, come on,” he pulled himself away from you, you could only watch as he sat on the bed. Pulling the soiled condom, seeing it all bloodied, Sunghoon’s lips turned into a thin line before tying it and covering it with tissue. He throws it in the trash bin before walking towards his bedroom’s bathroom. 

A few minutes later, he returned to grab you, carrying you bridal style which you didn’t mind, too tired to think about. The bathtub was only halfway full but Sunghoon quickly dips both of you inside. Your back resting against his back as you could only hum, relaxing into the warm water. 

“You okay?” he asked, his arms possessively wrapping around you. 

“I’m tired,” you mumbled. “I want to sleep.”

You hear Sunghoon chuckle, “never thought you'd be the type to get tired after one round.”

“I didn’t know it’ll be this tiring,” you mumbled. “Or maybe I was also tired from packing my things.”

“Which wasn’t necessary,” he kisses your temples. “Because you’re still staying here with me.” 

You only hum at his sentence, closing your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Just rest for me okay? I’ll take care of you.” 

“Alright.” 

“I love you,” Sunghoon stated, a loving kiss planted on your head. 

“I love you too.”

-

Last night felt like a dream. 

You opened your eyes to see yourself in a familiar room. Its silence comforts you in an indescribable way. Seeing how the sunlight sweeps through its curtains, indicates that you’ve slept past your usual wake time — a rare thing for you to happen. You sat up from the bed, noticing that the sheets are different and so are your clothes. A large shirt that almost pooled your thighs along with some boxer shorts in the shades of blue, hitting you immediately with reality. 

Last night felt like a dream but you remember every detail of it vividly. You could only hug your knees as the sudden shame came rushing to you. Cheeks are heating up as you can still feel sore down there. Never expect that everything will lead to you losing your virginity to Sunghoon. 

You can feel your heart beating, you remember every word said last night. The arguments, and promises, the way Sunghoon looked at you — everything. Everything was real yet it felt surreal. That’s when you glance to your left and see it empty. Sunghoon’s not here, and the thought of Sunghoon leaving you shadowed over your mind. 

Quickly, you jumped out of the bed. Light footsteps open the door of his room, and as you skirt outside, you can hear the faint sound of cooking in the kitchen — that’s when you felt relief. 

Slowly, you entered the kitchen to see Sunghoon cooking what you concluded were pancakes. He places the last batch on a plate before turning off the stove, turning around only to be surprised to see you standing there.

Silence devoured both of you. Not knowing what to say at all. After all the fiasco that you two had, some issues that needed to be solved, and of course, last night’s intimacy, everything suddenly felt awkward for both of you. 

“Good morning,” Sunghoon breaks the ice first. “You’re awake now, let’s have some breakfast.”

“I thought you left,” you blurted out, immediately sinking in that you shouldn’t have said that. 

You saw the way Sunghoon's forehead creased, confused. “Left? Why would I leave, I stay here.” 

“You stay here?” you asked. 

Sunghoon only quips a small smile, “I stayed here, waiting for you…hoping that you’ll come home.” 

“Oh.” you only look away, embarrassed at the thought, and yet, a part of you was surprised by what you heard. 

Sunghoon really meant what he said, and the thought that he waited for you to come home instead of going after you — he gave you time to think and waited for you to return, while at the same time, it gave him time to navigate his feelings for you. He’s right. It wasn’t too late for everything. 

Sunghoon places down the plate on the dining table. While you only sat on the chair, watching Sunghoon set up the table for you. He offers the plate for you as he sits beside you. From there, you two sat in silence, eating the perfectly-cooked pancakes. 

Weird. You thought as you took small bites on the food. Everything feels at ease, but you know that there’s still many issues that two have to address. Last night was just a swirl of each other’s emotions, although a proof of each other’s promises, you still don’t know what to do with your situation with Sunghoon. 

“What — what happened last night?” you asked. Sunghoon chokes on his food, startling you. “I mean, during the bath —”

“Oh, you fell asleep halfway, nothing happened after, I slept eventually,” Sunghoon explained.

“Alright,” you mumbled, clearing your throat. As you looked at your unfinished plate, you wondered about the two of you, almost immediately things won’t be easily like the way it was. 

“Hoon,” you whispered, trying to carefully set the atmosphere. 

“Is there something wrong?” he asked, almost concerned. 

“I just — I don’t know what to do with us,” you confessed, almost bitterly smiling. “All my life, I always knew what to do, I had a clear path of everything, dragging you in it which you obviously didn’t want to. But now that we have different goals, what about us?”

Sunghoon quietly looks at you. His soft expression completely contrasts the worried look on your face. Gently, he brushes the stray hair that covers your face, with his hand on the back of your neck, Sunghoon remains quiet as a smile forms on his face. 

“I’m not leaving you y/n, don’t worry about us. Let’s just support each other alright? I know it’ll be hectic for each of us because we’re going different place, but this place,” Sunghoon’s eyes wandered around the house. “This is going to be our home. We’ll make it a home for us.” 

“What about our engagement? It’s over now,” you asked, worried. 

“Let’s get engaged when we’re ready, okay? Not because our parents set us up, I want our relationship to be genuine and real. I still have to prove my love for you.”

You only chuckle. “You already did.”

“It’s not enough, one night doesn’t change anything.” 

You only nod at his words. “Thank you Sunghoon, for giving me another chance.” 

“I should be the one who’s thankful to you, you never gave up on me even when I treat you badly,” he insisted, making you laugh. 

“It’s my fault too, I shouldn’t have pushed you to my dreams too much.” you rebutted. “But I’m here now, I’ll support you in your dream.” 

“That’s all I need to hear,” Sunghoon stated.

Nodding at his words, Sunghoon pulls you for a hug, his arms instinctively lifting you from your seat, pulling you to his lap to hold you even more tightly. You rest your head on his shoulder as your arms swing around his neck. 

Silence hovered the dining area. You two remained there, never letting go of each other. The tranquility gives you two peace, feeling nothing but each other’s warmth as Sunghoon traces circle around your back, while you rest idly on him. It was comforting and assuring, and your heart swells in joy because your future with Sunghoon was never lost to you. 

-

Epilogue

As you open the door of your house, you immediately switch the lights on, revealing its comforting silence that only made you smile. The smell of lavender and eucalyptus filled the room, the relaxing scent coming from the air diffuser you and Sunghoon bought a few months ago, automatically reminds you of your lover.

“Hoon, I’m home!” you shouted, removing your sneakers when you heard the door of your shared room (formerly Sunghoon’s room) open. Sunghoon approaches you with a smile, gently cupping your cheeks to seal a kiss. 

“Welcome home,” he greets, making you smile. 

“What’s the occasion? You’re all dressed-up, or have you just got home from your class?” A year wasn’t that long, but a lot of things have changed between you and Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon was given another chance from Decelis to finish his degree in medbio, stating that it’ll be a waste for him to not continue it. Although the two of you knew that the degree is deemed useless, Sunghoon let it be, a deal that he had with his parents for him to continue playing in the band. 

After graduation, you agreed to Sunghoon to take a few months before entering medical school. Although you’re already on board to attend Decelis Medical School, you decided to take time to spend with the people you love because you know how hectic med school will be. 

Arcanum continued performing. After graduation, they became an independent band. Slowly, their popularity is starting to rise. Getting invited to events, university festivals, and of course, they still do their gig in The Rabbit Hole, which became more popular and crowded than ever. You, on the other hand, always manage time to watch their performance along with the other band members’ girlfriends — who you eventually became friends with. 

“I’m taking you out for dinner,” Sunghoon simply replied, grabbing your bag as he scurried his way back to your bedroom, which you only followed. 

“Why? What’s the special occasion?” you asked, laughing. 

“Nothing, just want to take my girl out, is that so bad?” Sunghoon grins, and your gleaming eyes can see how excited he is, like he’s preparing for something.

You only hum, as you proceed to your shared closet. “Alright, let me just freshen up for a bit and change.”

You two arrived at the restaurant not an hour later. The receptionist guided you to your reservation which surprised you because Sunghoon had reserved a private room for the two of you. 

“This is,” you held your breath as you looked at the room. Nostalgia hits you because Sunghoon had brought you to the place where you two were formally engaged by your family. 

“You still remember it?” he asked, smiling. 

“Of course,” you could only mumble. “I was nervous. We were friends who suddenly became fiances at eighteen, it was a sudden turn.” 

“I was nervous too, but I was in relief because my family chose you,” Sunghoon confesses. “Although we went through a rough path, I’m glad we were able to overcome it.” 

You only smiled back at him. “So am I.” 

Food arrived minutes later, along with some white wine of Sunghoon’s choice. The two of you spent the remaining time reminiscing, talking mostly about your childhood days, especially the embarrassing moments that had you two laughing loudly. 

“I have some news for you,” Sunghoon blurted out, completely changing the topic between the two of you. 

“What is it?’ you asked, taking small sips from your glass. 

“Daydream Records called yesterday,” Sunghoon started, his smile grew wider, eyes almost turning into a curve. “They’re interested in having us in their label, it’s a five-year contract and they will manage everything for us — can you believe it!?”

“Oh my god —” words got stuck in your throat. Immediately, you stood up from your seat, approaching Sunghoon who only waited for you to fall into his arms. Pulling you on his lap as you embraced him tightly. “Hoon, oh my god — this is good news! You guys will become famous!” 

“Becoming famous is still far for us, but no more hassle schedules, and Heeseung’s girl doesn’t need to partake in managing us, we’ll have our own manager, our own studio — everything!” Sunghoon excitedly shared, making you smile wider. 

“That’s great love, I’m so, so proud of you and Arcanum,” you only said, leaning on him to give him a deep kiss on the lips which he only reciprocated. 

“We’ll be busy this year, you’re going to attend Decelis in two months, while once we sign our contracts, we’ll be gearing up to release our debut single.” Sunghoon explained. “We might always come home to an empty house now.”

“Are you afraid?” you asked worriedly.

“Of course not, I have faith in both of us, but y/n,” he settles you on the chair in front of him. Hands holding you as he gives you an assuring smile. “We might not see each other from time to time because we’re too busy, but I want to let you know that I will always support you no matter what.”

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon grabs something from his coat’s inner pocket, your eyes widening at the velvet box that he’s holding. 

“Hoon,” you whispered.

“We were tied to be married when we were young, and we promised that we’ll only get married when we’re ready, and though one year has passed and a lot of things have changed, we still have a long way to go, for us.” Sunghoon stated.

You remained quiet, only staring at him who gently cups your face. 

“I want you to think of me whenever you see this ring,” he said as he proceeded to open the box. Your eyes widened at the pair of rings — both have subtle engraved diamonds, with the other one thinner with a much more intricate design. 

“And I’ll think of you whenever I see the ring too,” Sunghoon added. “It’s a promise ring. A promise for us that we’ll be with each other no matter what. It’ll be our strength especially during hard times.”

Tears started flowing from your eyes, out of happiness, you let out a choked laugh as you wiped your tears away — bumping into Sunghoon's hands who faltered a laugh as he gently wiped the tears away. 

“Hoon, I don’t know what to say…I love it — gosh, I love you so, so much, you don’t know how happy this makes me,” you could only say, almost stumbling to your words.

Sunghoon didn’t say a word. He removes the ring and gently puts it in your ring finger, fitting perfectly like it was meant for you. You copied his action, grabbing the other band and placing it in his ring finger. 

“Promise me that you’ll be there for me,” Sunghoon stated. 

“Of course, I’ll be there for you, just like you’ll be with me,” you only smiled. “Forever.” 

Sunghoon grabs your cheeks once again, planting a kiss on your lips which you delicately replied, sealing the promise you two have. Breaking the kiss, Sunghoon only stared at you, eyes brightening as his smile became wider. 

“Forever.” 

[chrissv4mp]

♱ before your kisses turn into bruises, i'm a warning

warnings. smut, scissoring, fingering, nipple play, fluff, angst, and language.

synopsis. you have a run-in with a "shark" during a walk on the beach—turns out, it's just a runaway dog with terrible name timing. it's owner? a girl who you never intended to meet but is now stuck in your world.

words. 5.7k

letters. longest thing i've written in a while!!!! hope you all enjoy this, i enjoyed writing it cus it made think about my vacation to hawaii last winter 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

the sun's just starting to rise, stretching slowly over the water as you make your way down stone steps that are eventually swallowed by the sand. it's soft and a bit cool beneath your feet, a nice contrast from the warm condo sheets and god-awful pillow that felt like it was suffocating you. jetlag from your flight had you asleep the second you stepped into your designated room for the two week you'd be here.

your friends were still sound asleep in the condo, just as tired as you were. maybe even more tired, seeing as they were still out cold.

the waves are soft, controlled as you walk along the shoreline, sunglasses perched on top of your head even though there's hardly any light. just a bit of pink and purple across the sky. it's all peaceful. steady.

"shark!"

you swear you feel your heart skip a beat, stopping dead in your tracks as you hear the single word. you whip your head around quickly, swallowing nervously.

and there stands a girl—about your age—skipping the steps and practically throwing herself into the sand, dark hair catching the wind. she's got a muscle tee clinging to her body, a backwards cap threatening to fall off her head, and jean shorts that are definitely way too big for her. she's yelling like someone's getting murdered.

"shark! hey, c'mon, boy, get back here," she calls, voice less frantic now.

your brain short circuits. what?

you look around, trying to figure out if this is some type of joke. or maybe this is how locals handle emergencies. she's bolting right towards you, kicking up sand, looking completely unbothered by the actual shark she just screamed bloody murder about.

taking a step back, you raise an eyebrow. "hi, um... is everything—?"

then, barreling out of the dunes behind her, a dog comes sprinting toward the water. a pit bull. tongue out. tail wagging.

you stare. then look back at the girl.

she stops, glancing over at you for the first time, a lazy grin forming on her pink lips.

"that's shark," she says, like that explains everything. "my bad. he's always scaring the tourists away."

you blink, opening your mouth but then closing it.

all you can think to say is, "...who names their dog shark?"

her grin widens, "i do."

then she whistles, calls out for him again, and jogs past you like it's the most normal thing in the world, sand sticking to the back of her calves, cap crooked and hair messy.

you watch her run up the stairs, trying to process the whole thing and contemplating if it's a dream or not.

until a familiar voice cuts through the quiet, "who was that?"

your friend, mia, is at the stairs that billie just walked on a few seconds ago, arms crossed, oversized sleep shirt hanging off one shoulder. the morning breeze plays with the ends of her braids, and she squints at you like she's still just waking up.

you shrug, beginning to walk towards her, "nothing. just some girl yelling about a shark."

she scoffs, "...that's not nothing?"

"well, the shark was a dog," you say, earning a chuckle from your friend, "and they scared the shit out of me."

your friend gives you a suspicious look, but she doesn't push. instead, she just mutters something about how you always attract the weird ones as she turns on her heel and starts walking back to the condo.

the rest of the morning seems to pass by slow after you and mia sneak back into your rooms and pretend to wake up again a few hours later. you're the first one out of bed, dragging your feet as you walk into the kitchen and sit at the rather large marble island.

a door down the hall you just came from opens just before you can do anything else, and here comes ivie. she's only wearing one sock, her hair is everywhere, and she's smiling sleepily as she walks into the kitchen and drops onto the stool next to you.

"sleep good?" you ask, an amused smile on your lips as you turn to her.

her reaction is delayed, which is all you need to know in order to put the pieces together that she, in fact, had a terrible night's rest.

a soft groan escapes her puffy lips as she leans forward into your chest, "the pillows were the worst. kept feelin' like they were trying to suffocate me in my sleep."

glad you weren't the only one who thought that.

"you too?" both of your heads turn to the staircase, watching as paige came down the stairs rubbing her eyes and yawning.

mia is a few steps behind her, sending you a small smile that you return as she goes to open the fridge, asking if anybody was hungry for breakfast. you all agree on eggs and toast, and ivie runs off to her room to grab a speaker from her bag.

she sets up her phone and hits shuffle on the playlist you four shared, and pink + white by frank ocean starts playing through the speakers loud enough to get a noise complaint.

the morning is calm, comfortable. just like the ones you imagined you and your friends would share on this little summer getaway. paige singing awfully in the shower. mia complaining about how her sunscreen won't rub in all the way. ivie throwing all of her clothes around in her room to find the perfect outfit.

when everyone's finally put together, you suggest a smoothie run, which turns into a whole afternoon trip into town.

the streets are warm and quiet, full of surf shops and flirty guys with sunburns. you've got on new sunglasses and your smallest pair of shorts, your friends muttering about stickers and overpriced tote bags.

when someone catches your eye.

it's that girl from the beach. same muscle tee, same backwards cap. now she's standing at a cart with a bright yellow umbrella above it, arguing with some ice cream. shark is sitting beside her, panting happily.

you pause for a second, actually stopping in front of ivie and paige, causing them to bump into you.

but she looks up—and there's no doubt she doesn't see you.

her lips quirk up into a half-smile. lazy. a bit smug.

she nods over at you, silently letting you know she sees you. but your friends have already started teasing you so much you don't even notice.

mia laughs, eyeing the girl, "is that the shark girl?"

you roll your eyes, starting to walk again and straight up ignoring the question even as your cheeks heat up and your palms start sweating. she was just some girl you had a small interaction with, you weren't gonna fall for her, let alone have any interest in her.

still, your heart beat speeds up just a little.

paige is already rambling on about some girl she saw at the smoothie shop, unknowingly saving your ass from the embarrassment and teasing of ivie and mia. her story lasts the entire walk back to the condo, and you silently thank her for being able to fall in love with any and everyone she sees.

the sun's started to go down, casting golden light onto the sidewalks. you're carrying a few shopping bags, still half-full on smoothies and sunburned in the one spot you swore you covered before leaving.

"okay, don't get mad at me for this," paige adds after a moment of silence, twirling a strand of hair between her fingers. "but while i was talking with that girl, we snuck off..."

you raise a brow. "...and?"

she grins. "she invited us to a party. it's tonight. rooftop access, a few blocks down, music, hot guys and girls, free drinks if they like you."

you sigh softly, looking around at the group as you all approach the house. as you unlock the front door and walk in, you hear a chorus of yeses and excited scrambling behind you.

and you?

you're not about to pass this up. especially when you're on vacation. and also because billie might be there.

so, you agree.

the party's already in full swing when you get there—balcony lights strung up like constellations, music thumping through the wooden floor, and that salty, warm air enveloping everyone like some oddly comforting blanket.

ivie and paige are already making their way through the crowd not even 5 minutes after getting through the door, and mia politely excuses herself to go find the restroom.

so, you slowly make your way through the crowd to find the kitchen. after pouring yourself a drink, you tuck yourself into some corner in the living room, watching the mess unfold. you're already regretting coming here, eyes moving all around the place.

and then something pulls your attention.

the girl. again.

you swear the universe was trying to tell you something, or maybe she was literally stalking you and the perfect little idea you made up of her in your head wasn't true at all. you hope it's the first option because the way she's looking at you from across the room is making your stomach flutter.

she's in a jersey and some jeans now. her hair's a little messier than the last time you saw her, wild from the wind. but her hat's facing forward this time, casting a dark shadow over her eyes. it shouldn't make her hotter. but it does. stupidly so.

and, as always, she sees you too.

it's subtle at first, the little game you two are playing. the flick of her eyes in your direction. the way you look away as soon as you catch her gaze.

eye tag.

she's sneaking through the crowd like she belongs there, eyes trained to you like a predator. but you don't feel intimidated or scared. just drawn to her. yet you didn't even know her name.

you lose her after a minute, someone walking in front of you just as she's about to come close, but then she's gone. your brows furrow in confusion. there's no way. was that imaginary? is she imaginary?

"keep staring and i might have to call someone on you," her voice startles you for just a moment until you realize it's her.

turning your head, you're met with ocean blue eyes and the lazy smirk you'd grown accustomed to. a smirk of your own tugs at the corners of your mouth, "sorry, sorry."

she huffs a laugh, looking down, stuffing her hands in her pockets, and leaning against the wall you're up against. her eyes meet yours again, soft, comforting.

"i don't mind," she says quietly, just above the music. "i think i like the attention. especially from pretty girls like you."

you nod your head slowly, "wow, flirting already and i don't even have a name yet."

"i'm billie," she adds, like she hasn't owned half of your thoughts since sunrise.

you hum, trying to play it cool as you exchange your own name. "guess i can stop calling you 'shark girl' now, huh?"

billie laughs, biting her lip and taking a step closer, "'shark girl' is cool too," she shrugs, voice lower now, lazy. dangerous in the best possible way.

her eyes burn into yours, making you glance away just to catch your breath. there was something about her energy. the way she moved, spoke, existed. it was so unlike everything back at home.

she was just... different.

"do you always hit on tourists at parties like these?" you joke, trying to give yourself a break.

but billie's already shooting back, nodding down, "only one's that wear skirts that short."

"you're impossible."

"and yet... here you are. still talking to me."

you bite your lip, finally gaining the courage to look her in the eyes again. bad idea. the way she simply stares at you just makes your heart start beating 10x faster than normal, your breath catching again.

she notices this time, you're sure of it. but she doesn't say anything, just observes you, waits for your next words, your next move, like she's trying to predict what you'll do.

"got me there," you murmur softly.

the whole reason you came here was to make memories, to make the best of this short vacation. and here you were, talking to some girl you met just this morning and already falling in love. some girl that you'll have to leave in a few days.

it doesn't hit you that you only have one week here when billie's staring at you like that, lower lip tucked between her perfect teeth, eyelids droopy, and full of interest.

but then someone runs up to you, grabbing your arm and shaking it wildly, "okay, okay, okay—hey, come with me!"

fucking paige.

she's tugging you away from billie before you can even make an effort to protest, "don't ask questions, just come with me, 'kay?"

you glance at billie as you're being dragged away, only to find her following you with slow steps that somehow keep up with paige's fast strides.

"am i about to get sacrificed, or...?"

"only if you're lucky," she giggles. "come on!"

you mutter some curse under your breath but follow her anyway, heart still thumping from billie's words. speaking of billie, she's still following right behind you two, smirk growing wider like she already knows what's about to happen. the three of you make your way down a narrow staircase, past drunk couples, and empty plastic cups until you reach a basement that looks like someone's personal man cave—but much cleaner.

there's a circle of people formed on the floor, an empty bottle in the middle of it.

"spin the bottle? seriously?" you deadpan, feeling paige's hand slip from yours.

she nods, practically bouncing. "they said only cool people, so obviously i told 'em we were coming."

you shoot her a glare, but she's already scurrying over to the girl you assume invited her. billie's not far behind her—sitting in an empty gap of the circle like it was routine. like she's still not invading your every thought. so, with a defeated sigh, you go and sit next to paige and her little girlfriend, across the circle from billie.

a few spins go by. strangers kissing strangers. obnoxious laughter. half-hearted cheers. you're nearly asleep from how boring it's getting. and billie can tell, her eyes raking over you and examining your facial features and body language, the way you rested your chin in the palm of your hand. she bites her lip, smiling like she's planning something.

and then it's your turn. you're on the verge of dozing off when paige nudges you harshly, muttering something about billie that you don't quite hear.

you lean over, spinning the bottle and then sitting back down calmly like you're not trying to calculate who it'll land on.

it slows after a few seconds, stuttering.

then, it stops.

billie.

you hold your breath as you look up at her, watching as the smirk on her face grows into a full smile, showing off her pretty teeth.

she just chuckles, laughing louder when paige hollers, "finally!" like she was waiting for this very moment to happen.

billie just sits there, so, you move first. she's biting her lip again, keeping eye contact with you and letting herself relax like it's normal to be kissing someone in front of nearly 15 people.

and when your lips touch—it's anything but normal.

she kisses you like she's trying to prove a point. one of her large hands grips your hip, the other sliding up your side like she owns your body. you gasp into her mouth, fingers curling at the collar of her jersey.

someone groans. another mutters, "holy shit."

neither of you can hear, though.

your free hand tangles in her hair, knocking her hat off her head accidentally, and billie just groans softly against your lips, pulling you onto her lap like nobody else is watching. like she didn't just meet you this morning.

when you finally pull back, your lips feel swollen and your pulse is wild. you don't even attempt to look around, but you can feel the silence.

billie's breathless, her grip on your body tightening like she doesn't want you to go. but, when paige buts in again, she decides it's better to continue this later.

you head back to your spot next to paige, eyes still glued to billie. you're both still catching your breaths, and she's trying to maintain any sense of self control she still has left before she pounces on you in front of everyone.

it's the next girls turn, a curly brunette wearing a cherry red top. you can hear the whispers already starting to surface, hearing the name "riley" amongst everyone hoping the bottle lands on them.

"just a heads up," she announces whole crawling over to the bottle, "i don't do half-assed kisses."

you already don't like her.

then she spins the bottle, dragging her fingers across it as if she's trying to make it land on a certain someone. it twirls, stuttering a few times, and you can already feel it in your chest before it even stops.

it lands on billie.

again.

riley grins. "rules are rules."

billie rolls her eyes playfully, beckoning her over with a curl of her fingers.

she's on billie's lap in less than 2 seconds, their mouths connecting instantly. and it's a lot.

hands in hair, mouths open, and billie's practically licking the inside of riley's mouth, and someone's literally filming it. your jaw tightens. because it's hot, sure. but it's not you. and that just makes the situation worse.

you still watch, pretending not to care. pretending like your nails aren't digging into the carpet.

but the kiss doesn't look the same. nobody's gasping or gawking over it like when you kissed billie. there's no tension in the air, no fingers digging into hips, no slow pull-away like she wants more.

it's just for show.

paige's girlfriend breaks the silence, "okay, okay, damn. game's over. we're not filming a porno in the basement."

there're a mixture of laughter and disappointed groans. people start getting up. paige is just about to grab your hand, but you're already on your feet. already heading upstairs.

you set your cup down on the counter when you reach the kitchen again, pouring yourself another drink to try and get rid of the jealously burning beneath your skin. try to ignore the way your heart's beating in your ears.

"you jealous?" billie's teasing voice erupts from behind you, a small laugh escaping her throat.

you don't turn around to face her. just sip from your drink slowly. "why do you think that?"

she steps closer, crossing her arms over her chest. "because i could feel your eyes burning holes into riley and i when we were kissing."

that's when you turn around.

she's closer than you thought—hat in her hand, hair a little wild from the kisses and the heat. her eyes drink you in like she hasn't already had a taste. like she wants more.

"you think i kiss everyone like i kissed you?" she asks, voice low.

"i think you could."

billie hums. "but i don't."

you hate the way that makes your cheeks heat up.

she reaches out, putting hat back on, and brushing your fingers where they're clenched around your cup. "you mad at me?"

you shake your head. but it's too quick.

"liar," she says softer, stepping closer. "i can tell. your expression is tense. and you're looking at me like you wanna kill me."

billie grabs your waist before you can say something smart, pulling you in like it's nothing. like you belong this close to her.

she just stares into your eyes, grabbing the cup from your hand sneakily and setting it down on the counter next to you. it's darker now. the only light source being the under-cabinet lights. upstairs, you can hear the music and the energy. it's pulsing through the ceiling. bass and bodies and someone screaming along to whatever's playing.

but down here, it's quiet.

just you.

and her.

you can smell hints of salt and something citrusy clinging to her jersey. her eyes are locked on yours, slowly drifting to your lips as if she's trying to figure something out. as if she wants to lean in closer and kiss you again.

and you want her to. you really, really want her lips back on yours. but the longer you look into her ocean blue eyes, the more you realize that your time together is limited.

a huff passes through your lips, a defeated one.

"look, you can kiss whoever you want. it's not like i'm gonna be here any longer, anyway," you say, trying to shrug off the feeling like the words don't sting. "only a week. and i'm not exactly planning a long distance... whatever this is, with some girl i literally met today."

she pulls you closer. "so don't plan."

you chuckle. "oh, cause it's so easy, huh?"

"it is, actually."

you roll your eyes, but your voice has an edge to it. "what's the point if we have limited time? why should i bother creating a bond with you if we don't even live in the same place? you don't even know me."

she leans in, breath shallow like she's getting mad.

"so what, you think i'm just some girl you can kiss and forget about?" she scoffs, voice low. like she's challenging you to say something smart.

you don't say anything. and that's all she needs.

her lips are on yours in an instant, and this time, it's not gentle. it's messy. urgent. no audience. no background talk. just tongues and teeth and hunger, like she's been waiting all night to finally get her hands on you. her fingers slide beneath the hem of your top, gripping your waist tighter.

you should pull away, but the way she's holding you so securely, so tight, it makes you wanna melt into her. the way her grip never lets up practically forces the argument out of your head and turns it into something hotter. your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you really forget about everything else—your anger, your stress, the fact that this might be the worst idea of your life.

when she pulls away, her forehead rests against yours. her breath's ragged, and yours isn't any better.

"you're right," she murmurs. "we don't have much time. so let's make it count, yeah?"

you're silent at first, still trying to catch your breath as you search her eyes for something. but then you nod, and billie wastes no time in dragging you down a dark, narrow hallway, hand gripping yours like you'll leave if she lets go.

you let her take the lead, your heart pounding in your head louder than the music upstairs. her shoulders are tense. and so are yours. everything's moving so fast, but somehow not fast enough for your liking.

she pushes open a random door at the end of the hall without knocking, kicking it shut when you're both inside. it's someone's room, or a guest room, you don't know. the bed's made, but the blinds are broken, and there's a jacket tossed over the desk chair. the air's somehow warmer in here.

you can barely register anything else before billie's lips are on yours again, hands on your face. you kiss her like you're still mad. like you need to get something through to her that is beyond words.

her hands find your waist again, fingers tugging at the hem of your top and tugging it up your body. you put your arms up, pulling it over your head and throwing it on the floor. her fingers are back on you immediately, pulling you close until your hips collide. she leans back in, teeth catching your lower lip and making you gasp.

pushing her forward by her chest, you watch as the backs of her knees hit the bed, then she's forced into sitting. you push her back, causing her back to hit the mattress. she's grinning stupidly at you, hat still on—but now it's crooked.

you crawl over her, hands placed on either side of her head.

"you don't even know me," you whisper, echoing your words from earlier.

she's breathless. "then let me learn."

with that, you kiss her again. it's slower, deeper. like you wanna memorize the pillowy feeling of her lips. her fingers slide under the waistband of your skirt, nails grazing your skin, and it's all too much. too much and not enough.

her hat finally falls off when you run your fingers through her hair, and you smile against her lips when you feel one of her hands leave your skirt and then hear the soft thud of it falling to the floor. then she flips you over so that you're beneath her now, one hand beside your head, the other trailing down your body.

the tips of her fingers run along your bare stomach, leaving a trail of fire. she's still devouring your lips, gripping the sheets beside your head like she's trying to control herself.

her lips trail down your jaw, your throat, and then she kisses your collarbone roughly. like she's been thinking about it since you kissed her in the basement.

and maybe she has.

voice muffled against your skin, she asks, "how long do we have left again?"

"a week," you breathe, eyes half-lidded, voice shaky.

she stops when she reaches your bra, looking up into your eyes, "better not waste another second, then."

and she sticks to those words, her hand reaching behind your back. you arch into her, letting your head fall back against the pillows as you feel billie undo the clasp of your bra. then she's slipping the straps off your shoulders, throwing it to the floor and latching her lips onto your nipple gently.

you moan quietly, fingers tangling in her hair when she rolls your other nipple between her thumb and index fingers. she's sucking gently, humming quietly against your skin before releasing your nipple with a pop.

her kisses trail lower, slow and deliberate, breath ghosting over your skin and making you twitch under her. you grip her hair tighter, knuckles bleeding white, biting down on your lip to stifle the whimper building in your throat.

the room is thick with heat, but there's still that flicker of jealousy and uncertainty in the air. it crackles between the space where your eyes meet, even as her lips brush against the waistband of your skirt.

"you're still jealous," she mumbles, fingers tugging your skirt down your ankles and then discarding of it on the floor. "i can tell."

you nod reluctantly, eyes fluttering closed as you feel her fingers running up your inner thighs, feather-light and maddening.

she kisses your inner thigh, then your clit over your panties. a soft gasp escapes between your lips, earning a quiet chuckle from the girl between your legs.

"stop teasing," you swallow hard.

her eyes flick back up to you, smirking just like always. "i'm not teasing."

and she's right. she isn't teasing.

she's taking her time—too much time—touching you like she wants to remember what your body feels like before you're gone. kissing you like she wants to burn the taste of your chapstick into her memory.

you raise your hips, tugging at her hair.

"please, don't make think anymore tonight."

billie pauses, breath still, cheek resting against your inner thigh. then, barely audible, she whispers, "okay."

and she gives you what you ask for—not holding back as she takes the waistband of your panties between her teeth and tugs them down your thighs until they're bunched around you ankles, letting them fall onto the floor.

as she's on her feet, she pulls her jersey over her head, unclasping her own bra, then unbuckling her belt. her jeans hit the floor with a soft thud, and you can barely make out the little sliver of a tanline on her hips when her underwear drops.

the room is so dark that you can hardly see anything—just the soft curve of her body in shadows, the swell of her breasts, and the tension in her shoulders as she leans over you again.

her lips part to ask a question, but then she shuts them, remembering your words from earlier. you didn't want to think. you didn't know what you wanted, exactly, but you knew you wanted her.

"i don't wanna forget this," you gasp as you feel her fingers swipe through your folds. you didn't mean to say it out loud.

but you did.

and billie stops for a moment, eyes flicking back up and finding yours, even in the dark. her lips quirk up into a small smile, lowering her head into the crook of your neck and pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over.

"then don't," she whispers, so quiet you almost don't hear, "don't forget me. please."

you nod, hands snaking around her body and resting on her back. you whimper when her thumb finds your clit, rubbing slow but tight circles on the little nub as she kisses and nips at your soft neck.

she slots her legs around yours, fingers leaving your cunt and finding their way to her lips as she lowers her pussy onto yours. your eyes can't seem to pull away from the sight of her pretty digits slipping between her lips and sucking your arousal off of them.

her hips shift, eliciting a low moan from the both of you. you're already shaking. maybe from nerves. maybe from how good it feels.

or maybe because it hurts, knowing that this may be the last time you'll see each other.

"fuck," billie whines, hands moving to your hips as her head falls back in pleasure. her pace is slowly increasing, getting needier and faster with each thrust of her hips.

the squelching sound only makes it hotter, knowing that the both of you are equally wet. it distracts you both from everything.

you're not sure when her name starts spilling from your mouth like a prayer or when your nails start digging into her hips to pull her closer against you.

she's everywhere on your body—hands moving around the expanse of your skin, lips brushing against yours so rough yet so lovingly. curses fall from her mouth every now and then, breath ragged and sharp, muttering, "god, you're unreal."

her eyes drift down to where you're connected, and now she's not sure if she can take her eyes from the sight of her dripping cunt grinding against your own. she can't help but whimper when her clit bumps against yours.

your own eyes are fixated on billie's face. the moonlight shining through the broken blinds illuminates her face just right, giving you the perfect view of her faded freckles and pouty, pink lips. you're not sure you'll be able to forget the furrow of her brows after tonight, the way her tongue darts out to wet her lips in concentration. her hair is falling over her shoulder, framing her face beautifully and bouncing subtly each time she moves her hips. your thoughts were starting to get cloudy, the only clear visions happening to be billie and that stupid smug smirk of hers. the one that you were starting to like a little too much.

"you're so beautiful," you manage to whisper between moans.

billie's eyes snap up to yours the second she hears your broken moan. she bites her lip hard, making herself flinch and whine at the slight pain.

her hips grind harder against you, fingers digging into your waist and causing you to arch into her. the angle makes the pleasure 10 times better, the bed creaking quietly beneath you two.

"m'gonna cum," she warns, voice a higher pitch than before.

her breath picks up quickly, coming out in shallow, short huffs as the knot in her stomach snaps. the sticky, warm feeling of her cum seeping onto your cunt is enough to make you cum with a loud, throaty moan.

your hips gradually slow down once your body starts to feel spent, heart still beating rapidly but starting to go back to normal. billie rolls off of you, sliding under the covers and helping you under.

the room goes quiet, save for the mixed sounds of your heavy breaths and sighs and the hum of music still bumping loudly upstairs. you roll onto your side, draping your leg over her waist and pulling the covers up more.

her fingers trail up your side and around to your spine, dancing along the expanse of your back as she stares into your eyes. she's warm—so warm and comforting.

you're not saying much of anything now. maybe it's because you're both spent, or it's because you don't need to say anything.

you lean forward, nuzzling your head against her chest, skin still damp with a thin layer of sweat, but you're already too comfortable to care. her arm wraps around your body, pulling you flush against her body, your curves slotting against hers so satisfyingly.

"hey," she says suddenly, voice hoarse. "d'you think crabs know they're sideways?"

exhaling tiredly, you tilt your head up to look at her. "billie."

she laughs at your half-annoyed half-amused expression, fingers drawing shapes along your skin as she continues with the dumb topic, "no, seriously. what if they think we're the weird ones?"

you shift on top of her, deciding to just shut your eyes and listen to her. "we just fucked and you're talking about crabs."

"you'd be surprised what my brain can do post-orgasm," she whispers, voice all smug like she's proud of herself.

billie goes quiet after that, her free hand coming up and running her fingers through your hair. you relax against her completely when you really start to pay attention to the soft beating of her heart, the sound lulling you into sleep.

her fingers never stop tracing patterns on your skin or combing through your hair, touch so soft and careful. she can hear the crashing of waves against the shore even through the glass.

your breath is even now, lips slightly parted, fingers twitching against billie's waist.

she watches you for a moment. then she swallows nervously, the corners of her lips curling with the need to say something. something stupid. stupid but true.

"you're gonna ruin me," she whispers, chuckling quietly.

tags. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @strwberrybils @justtr @greenbttrflyy @billsbaby @natbelovasblog @lottiepierce @northlndnisred @asterisk-eyes @dragoneyelashart @xxangelfarrlzxx @ilomiloblohshh @fawninlove @meliciousmel13 @jul3esz @rightarion @svelish @hkkuugu @eeuni @dragoneyelashart @thinkshespretty @cnnibalize

[notapradagurl7]

Miss Me?

Black Fem! Reader x Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Summary: After those years of hearing of his disappearance, your husband Elijah “Smoke” Moore had finally returned home, and you weren't up for a warm welcome. But he wanted to speak with you, and remind you that you're still his. Only his.

A/N: Here is something for our main man Smoke, 😩 enjoy!

Warnings: dirty talk, praise, possessive!Smoke, slight back talk, stubborn reader, fingering, cursing, unprotected sex, use of the n-word, established marriage, creampie, consensual intimacy, multiple orgasms, squirting.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @secret89sblog @ranikyani

@uniqueoutlierblog @mama-2001

@fakxmbj @kaylalb @theereina @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @kumkaniudaku @luckydaye777 @that-one-anxious-mango @rose-bliss @wanderingreader1 @kindofaintrovert

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The rich aroma of marinara sauce mingled with a variety of seasonings and spices, enveloping the medium-sized kitchen, the walls painted in sage green and pictures of you, and Smoke.

Your deep brown eyes were fixed on the bubbling pots simmering on the stovetop, the vibrant colors of the food enticing your senses. With a gentle turn of the knob, you watched as the blue flames flickered and gradually faded to embers, silencing the hissing gas.

You moved with quickness, pulling out an array of containers, each one filled with fragrant foods. Scooping out generous portions, you layered your plate with creamy mashed potatoes, perfectly cooked spaghetti, and sautéed cabbage with sausage that glistened with a hint of olive oil.

A low rumble from your stomach reminded you to eat, prompting a sigh of relief as you finally took your first bite. The flavors danced joyfully across your tongue, eliciting a soft hum of delight as each taste unfolded, cleaning your plate, after sipping your glass of water to quench your thirst.

Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the air, cutting through the meal you finished and breaking your concentration. You wiped the remnants of food from your lips.

You let out a resigned sigh, reluctantly leaving your plate behind as you hurried to the front door. Peering through the window, your heart raced as the amber-orange glow of the porch light illuminated a familiar silhouette, casting a soft shadow that stirred curiosity and cautious within you.

Smoke or as you called him, Elijah. That was who stood at your door, a shadowy presence in the twilight. Also known as your husband.

He was the twin brother of Elias “Stack” Moore, a pair known for their ruthless dealings in Chicago and New Orleans, everywhere.

Together, they undertook the grim tasks laid out for them by the notorious Al Capone, their hands stained with the dirt, and blood of their illicit trade.

In a moment that felt both tender and fleeting, he had expressed a desire to marry you before he vanished into the chaos of the city.

His promises dripped with hope as he claimed he would return to you, that the day would come when you would once again find him wrapped in your arms.

But as the shadows deepened and trouble began to swirl around them like a whirlwind, each passing day drew you further away from that heartfelt vow, leaving you to wonder if he would ever return.

Your family warned you that marrying him was a grave mistake; they insisted that being with Smoke only invited trouble.

Yet, despite their concerns, your love for him and his love for you ran deep—deeper than you could articulate. Now that he was finally back home after those long years, everything felt different.

With a sigh of disappointment, you shook your head. “What the hell does this nigga want?”

You knew you'd regret this, at least a little. You were still his wife, and he was still your husband.

Turning the brass knob, you swung the door open. Your gaze fell upon the man in his gray suit, blue tie, and the hat he had removed. His brown eyes met yours, brimming with raw emotion—love, longing, and a hint of fear.

“So, you’re back?” you asked, tilting your head slightly, skepticism lacing your voice.

His expression softened momentarily before he composed himself, gripping his hat tightly. “Yeah, I’m home, back wit’chu. Just like I promised, baby,” he said, his tone laced with seriousness and tenderness, each word resonating with sincerity.

Elijah stepped into the house, and you quickly closed and locked the door behind him. The way he said “baby” sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a wave of desire within you. How could you feel this way at such a moment?

The scent of the meals you cooked filled his nostrils, his stomach rumbled as his tongue glided through his lip. “What’chu cookin’ tonight? My favorite?” he teased, smirking at you.

You should have been angry with him; he was at home, but he might have been driving for work, putting in long hours until his hands hurt and his body was exhausted. Smoke couldn't wait to return to you.

“You can always make yourself a plate, sweetie. Don't starve yourself.” You replied frimly, you walked through the hallways as he followed behind you.

You settled into the chair at the neatly set table, the crisp brown cloth contrasting with the rich, dark wood beneath. He began to fill the meal, carefully lifting the lid from a steaming porcelain dish and dishing out vibrant, aromatic food that filled the air with its savory aroma.

The utensils clinked softly against the plates as he prepared his serving, a sense of expectation hanging between you. You knew he loved your cooking, there was no need to speak about that.

Taking his seat across from you, he dug into the meal with a satisfied hum, savoring each bite and clearly relishing the flavors.

You watched him intently as he slipped off his shoes, the soft thud breaking the gentle ambiance, and unfastened his coat, draping it casually over the coat rack. “I love your cookin’ you know that?” he mentioned, his eyes on you.

Your lips curled up in a warm smile, your heart fluttered in your chest. “I know that, you tell me that shit every time I cook,”

He then moved to the counter sink, filling a glass with cool water, the sound of liquid pouring into the glass punctuating, and took a long, refreshing gulp.

His gaze wandered over you, lingering on the nightgown you wore—the delicate black fabric that clung to your figure in all the right places, a garment he adored.

The playful glint in his eyes suggested that the food was not the only captivating thing in the room, making it thick with undeniable attraction. He stood up from the table, made his way to the sink, washed his hands and his plate. Drying them off with a towel.

“Why did you come back? After all these years, couldn’t you have stayed with your brother?” You replied back, your brows knitted in anger.

“You gon’ kick me out? This is still my home. I bought this place for us, so we’d always have a home to return to, Y/N,” Smoke retorted, placing his empty plate in the sink.

You stood up from the table, walking toward your husband where the sink was, cutting the distance between the two of you. His gaze locked upon you, the closeness he missed so much was here, the intimacy beckoning for both of your calls.

He was right about that, ever since the two of you were teenagers, he vowed to do this, keep you happy and safe from the threats of his life, be with you.

He stepped closer to you, his clothes lingered with the scent of gun smoke, and his fresh cinnamon, eucalyptus cologne evaded your senses. Why don't you just speak up? Tell him.

“I…I never thought that you'd be back for good, all this time I prayed that you weren't dead, and you can't make up for those years taken from us, Elijah!” You yelled harshly, your voice broke with emotion.

His hands cradled your face, bringing you closer while your face softened at him, his thumbs swiped over your cheeks to wipe those tears away, and your hands laid on his clothed chest.

“You pushin’ me away cuz’ you think I'm gon’ leave you again? Nah, I'm a man of my word baby.” Smoke replied firmly, his voice filled with sincerity, grabbing your hand in his.

He placed your hand on his middle of his chest, feeling his heartbeat like a drum, he smiled at you before kissing your forehead and then lifting your chin, kissing your lips passionately before pulling away to look at you again.

“You feel that? My heart beats for you, keeps me alive, and strong. I ain't going nowhere, you hear me?” Smoke replied, wrapping his arms around you.

You chuckled lightly, shaking your head. “You a poet now, my love? I hear you but who did you get that from? Langston Hughes?”

“I'm tellin’ you what’s on my heart, darlin’ or do I need to show you?”

“Why don't you do that?”

Following that, the two of you retreated to the bedroom, clothes strewn across the floor, with soft moans mingling with slurred words as your face was buried in the pillow.

Smoke held your hips tight from behind, driving into you with a rapid yet forceful rhythm. Making sure that you felt every inch of his dick, all you could do was scream his name and you took it like a pro.

“You miss me, baby?” He groaned, his hand delivering a rough smack on your ass, watching your wetness coat his dick completely. The sheets shocked underneath, remnants of the passion he left behind.

“I-i..missed you..fuck!” You moaned loudly, eyelids closed shut nails while your hands balled up the blankets. Tears blurring your vision, you came undone quickly which made him darkly chuckle before kissing you.

He smirked at your face contorting in pleasure, your body shaking against his as sweat covered your bodies, he peppered kisses along your spine, “Good, cuz’ I missed you more, and I told you I'm stayin’ right?” Smoke grunted after every thrust after pulling out.

He wrapping his arm around you and flipped you on your back, sliding his dick back inside you. You shudder at the warm feeling, it felt so right. With him. “Y-yes, I..I need you, Elijah. Only you,” you gasped, your words a desperate plea that only fueled his intensity.

His eyes darkened with desire as he leaned closer, his lips peppered kisses on yours. Wet noises of your pussy swallowing his dick, the bed creaked. “Sounds like your pussy ain't forget about me,” he said to you, his voice deepened. He released low groans, “Eiljahhhh..shit!” you lamented, clawing at his shoulder blades. he missed you so much that words couldn't even explain.

“That’s what I like to hear, baby. You’re mine, and you know just how much you mean to me,” he murmured, his thrusts became sporadic and deliberate. Flipping you onto missionary.

Smoke’s hands roamed your body, his nails dug deep every curve as if he were tracing the stretch marks on your dark brown skin. “My beautiful wife, where would I be?” he said, His fingers tangled in your braids, pulling you closer as he thrust deeper, hitting that sweet spot.

“Elijah! Please—more,” you cried, your back arching as waves of pleasure coursed through you. You could feel his heartbeat matching the rhythm of your own, tiny cries from you spurred him on.

He chuckled darkly, his thrusts becoming more relentless, pushing you to the edge. “You think you can handle it? You’re not too sore for me, are you?” he taunted, his voice thick with lust.

“No, I can take it! I want it all, Elijah!” you whimpered, feeling yourself teetering on your climax.

“Damn right you can,” he growled, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he drove into you. Your knees buckling in response.

With each crazy thrust, he punctuated his claim, and you felt your body responding, tightening around him, begging for release. “Elijah…I’m gonna cum,” you breathed, your voice breaking. Your legs rested onto his shoulders.

“Can I give you some twins, baby?” he coaxed, his lips finding yours again, swallowing your moans as you succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Yes…baby,” You cried out his name, your body shaking as you came undone once more, Smoke followed closely behind, his warm cum spilling deep within you, giving you the twins he asked for.

Breathing heavily, he pulled out and collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. His hands stroked your face, “You good?” he asked, and you felt the warmth radiating from him, “Yeah…I’m good…” a comfort you had longed for during his absence.

“I missed you so damn much,” he confessed, his voice softening as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re here now, baby. And that's what matters most.”

—————-

[reignpage]

The Best Kind of Remedy

Synopsis: in which your herbalist boyfriend, Geto, has just the thing to cure your ailments Warnings: smut, established relationship sex, penetrative sex, sex whilst under the influence (smoking weed), dubcon?, thigh riding, dirty talk, degradation, lots of praise, unprotected sex, creampie, handjob, brief fingering, spitting, dacryphilia, cum eating, personification of the pussay, not proofread Word Count: 3.1k

Herbalist!Geto is your boyfriend — you can always count on him to cure your ailments with a conversation, sometimes even with just a glance. He has green tea bags ready for your morning bloating, elderberry syrup for your colds, and aloe vera compress for burns, among other things.

Visits to his clinic on Friday nights are routine; you show up just as he’s closing, and he gives you a small smile when he lets you in. “Hey, was just about to text you.”

“Long day?”

Popular and well-respected, he gets customers from all over the country. They swarm to his clinic in hopes of securing a face-to-face consultation with the man himself, eating up every advice, and treasuring each prescription. He’s trustworthy, smart, observant, innovative, and so damn hot. Long hair tied at the back, broad shoulders stretching out the lab coat he wears, and smelling of something floral and earthy, you don't blame any of the girls who come in just to ogle at him.

“A little tiring but I feel energised now that you’re here.” He brushes a lock of your hair back, thumb tilting your chin up so he can get a good look at you. “You haven’t been sleeping well again?”

Herbalist!Geto shrugs off his coat, revealing a loose black shirt underneath, which rises up when he stretches out the lethargy in his bones, revealing a seductive sliver of his boxers and the sharp cut of his abs. 

“I’m exhausted but I can’t rest; I feel on edge all the time.”

He's quiet for just a second, analysing the depth of your dark circles and jittery limbs. There’s an odd glint in his eyes when he places a heavy hand on your head and says, “I might have just the thing.”

That’s how you find yourself in the backroom, sitting on his sofa next to him. He’s rolling up a joint with expert hands, sprinkling a green line across the paper, shaping it into a neat little cone. Fingers pinching the air, he rolls it back and forth, and when ready, puts it up to your lips.

“Go on, pretty girl.” A little nervous, you eye him first and he waits patiently. You lick the edge of the paper, keeping eye contact, even when brings it up to his mouth and licks exactly where you did. It’s sealed and he taps it against your lips like some kind of good luck ritual. “This is your first time, right? Well, then, you’re going to have to listen very carefully to me. Can you do that?”

You nod. 

He tuts. “Use your words, pretty.”

“I’ll listen.”

“Good girl.”

Window open, he seems at ease when he lights the spliff and takes a deep inhale, immediately slumping back into the sofa, arm thrown over the back right behind you, and legs spread so far you’re trying hard not to stare at what’s between them. “Start off with a light inhale. Just suck gently, like you’re sipping from a straw, and don’t hold it for too long. Only a second or two and then breathe out. Got it?”

Smiling, you follow his instructions. It smells earthy, like him, with a hint of something sweet. Embarrassingly, you’re coughing not even a second after you’ve inhaled — it’s dry in a way you weren’t expecting. Head falling onto his chest, his amused huff shakes you a little.

“Sorry, baby. Here, drink some water.”

Just as you’ve gulped down a whole cup of water he had prepared like he knew this would happen, you grill him about this part of him he’s been hiding. “I didn’t know you smoked weed. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Blowing a puff into the air, away from your face, he shrugs. “Always forgot. I don’t smoke too often; don’t ever want to get reliant. But I’ve been growing my own, experimenting, trying to find the best kind. I didn’t want to make you smoke anything less than perfect, after all.”

You’re leaning against his chest, too scared to reach for another puff so you settle for listening to him instead. “There are different types of weed?”

“Yeah. Different strains of weed, just like growing any kind of plant. Some people mix different things into their harvest based on preference. I’ve mixed all sorts of juices with mine. This one has a hint of strawberry — thought you might like to taste something a little more familiar.”

The air’s growing thicker and hazy. Even from one inhale, you’re already feeling more relaxed, like time’s moving slower. “Hmm, this is kinda nice. I want more but I don’t want to choke; it’s humiliating.”

Head tilting back, he pecks you on your lips, tenderly. 

“Don't be embarrassed. It's just me. Come on, I’ll blow it for you. Open for me. That’s it.” Hot air, tasting ever so slightly like strawberry and him, fills your mouth and you swallow, letting it float into your lungs. "Better?"

Nodding, you climb onto his lap, suckling on his lips, seeking more, unable to help yourself. Something is making you feel restless even though you’re slowly melting into your most relaxed self. “Sugu…I feel weird.”

Herbalist!Geto’s free hand smoothes your hair, calming you. “You’re alright, baby. I’ve got you. I had a feeling you’d get worked up.”

“The weed’s making me horny?”

A slow grin appears on his face. He tilts his head, slightly mocking, and says, “You haven’t had nearly enough to go all empty in that pretty head of yours. Look at you. You’re grinding on my thigh and you don’t even realise? That’s adorable.”

You gasp and glance down. He’s right; you’re rocking back and forth on his muscular thigh, leaving a wet trail over his cotton pants whilst your skirt pools around your hips. Senses heightened, you can’t stop, not when the friction feels so good and he’s flexing his thigh to urge you to an orgasm. 

“Hmm, I treat you to my weed and you thank me by feeling good by yourself? Maybe I should start calling you my ‘selfish girl.’ You’re making me feel all lonely here.”

An apology is muttered against his lips. Clinging onto his shirt, you use him as leverage to get into a rhythm. The haze is emboldening you and the only hint of surprise that pops up on his face is a quirk of a brow when you fish out his hard cock. It’s thick and pretty — he keeps it tidy down there and the dark pink tip makes your mouth water. Leaking pearlescent drops, you use it to lubricate his length. Then, you rub up and down in time with your grinding, keen to see his lips part and his eyes go glossy. 

“Poor baby doesn’t like cumming by herself, does she? No, of course not. But you’re already making a -hah- mess on my thigh so you might want to -ngh- pick up the pace otherwise we’ll both be very disappointed, won’t we?”

Shuddering, the corner of his mouth twitches when he feels your thumb rub his slit, running it down a bit of his foreskin. Exposing more of his sensitive skin to the air, he has to take a puff to stop himself from cumming too soon. 

Herbalist!Geto’s head is thrown back, long, slender neck looking so delectable you mouth kisses all over his skin, smiling when he groans. “I thought weed was s-supposed to make you less tense, not more mean.”

He laughs and blows the smoke right into your open mouth. “That’s a lot of —tighter, baby, rub my tip too, you know just how I like it, yeah, good girl— a lot of -hah- talk from someone who always cums hard after being treated a little mean.”

True to his words, you cum all over his leg, tightening your hold on his cock subconsciously and he grunts with the sudden pressure. 

“Ah, Suguru! Fuck, so good.”

Palming your thigh, he smiles to himself when you slump on his chest. “Got a filthy mouth on you. Should wash it out, shouldn’t I?”

You’re just about to get up and lap up his length when he stops you. 

“N-no, don’t think I can wait.” Panties pushed to the side, you embrace the fingers he slides inside your sloppy pussy, stretching your gummy walls in preparation for this cock. You’re moaning, emboldened by the curling of his fingers against a spot inside that renders you breathless. “Hmm, you’re so tight. That the weed or have I not been taking care of you recently?”

A squeal leaves your lips when he withdraws those fingers without waiting for your answer and pulls you down on his leaking length all in one go. It’s almost painful, but the smoke you’ve inhaled is dulling and heightening your senses all at once — you can’t feel the pinch of the stretch but you can feel every vein, every throb, every inch of his cock filling you up completely. 

“Sugu,” you whine, “not so suddenly.”

Herbalist!Geto chuckles. “Sorry, baby. Just couldn’t -hah fuck you’re too tight- h-help myself. You know I love feeling you stretch around me.”

Tears spring to your eyes from the stretch. He throbs inside you. Once. Twice. 

“Pretty baby crying for me? Oh, you spoil me.” Fallen tears are licked up, thoroughly hydrating and fuelling his teasings. "Once you've adjusted, get to work, alright? Want you to show me how grateful you are."

Leaning back on his wide-spread thighs, you offer him a great view of your pussy lips wrapping around his girth. There’s already a light sheen of wetness coating his length and the sight is making him lightheaded. Slowly, you begin gyrating, grinding in circles so you can get used to the ache before your thighs are pushing up and down. He shoots you a wink when he senses your growing embarrassment at just how sloppy you've gotten and so quickly. 

"Hear that? Pretty pussy's saying, 'Thank you.' Polite little thing, isn't she? She needs to be rewarded, no? So go on, ride me."

Barely been touched, and loud squelches are already coming out of your pussy, reminding you of just how well-trained your body is for him. Never wanting to disappoint him, you push your limbs to set a pace you know gets you both going. His breathy moans guide you, setting tingles all over your skin. 

Your shirt is pulled up and pressed to your mouth. You bite the hem, baring your tits to his eyes. “Missed my girls — was thinking about them -ngh- all day. S-still taste as good as they look?

He’s sucking a nipple, rolling the bud around with the tip of his tongue, flicking and suckling in rapid succession. Undeterred by your bouncing, he keeps his mouth full, groaning when you grind down on his balls. "Oh, yeah, my sweet girls."

Every bounce makes you lightheaded, dazed with pleasure. 

"Should come visit me more often. Was starting to think you hate me." He teases. 

Frantically shaking your head, you say, "N-no. I was just busy."

"Too busy for me?"

"Never."

He blows yet another puff of smoke into your mouth, enjoying the breathy mutter of gratitude that you give him. "Good. I'd be devastated if I —oh, fuck, baby, ride me faster, yeah, good girl— if I couldn't see you as often as I'd -hah- like. You know you're the only thing that keeps me going, don't you?"

"Yes, Sugu ���ah, yes, yes, you're so big!"

Sucking a mark in between the valley of your breasts, he gazes at his work, licking his lips and loving the salty taste of your skin. "If I didn't love your pussy as much as I love you, I might start to get jealous over h-how much you love my -ngh!- cock."

Kisses to that gooey spot inside you by his angry cockhead has your pussy growing sloppier and sloppier until a thick creamy ring forms around his base and he can’t help but thumb it and bring it up to your lips. It’s dirty, it’s filthy, obscene, and you suck it up with no hesitation, tasting both of your juices on your tongue. 

Herbalist!Geto dives forward, smothering your moans. The earthy taste of strawberries mixes in, tongues wrapping around each other as he seeks out your taste, swallowing every drop of you. He grunts. 

Swivelling your hips, you have to pull back, gasping for air and finding nothing to bring you sanity. Your pussy’s gripping onto him like it could absorb his soul into your very being and the plap plap plap of your skin smacking against his is all you can hear. 

This is unlike your usual sex — he's usually much more controlled, much cleaner in his movements, more thoughtful in his approach. Now, you're seeking out your pleasure with no care in the world, just bouncing rhythmlessly and clumsily, slipping and sliding, moaning and whining, and he's letting you. 

It seems you're not the only one affected by the weed.

A cloud of smoke rises up from his mouth, jaw hanging from just how hot and heavenly you feel around him. You suck it in, swallowing the dry air. But then he’s pulling you back into yet another kiss, that puff being exchanged back and forth like a dirty game of tennis until it’s completely gone and you’re fuelled only by the sickly sweet taste of him. 

“Your stamina’s improved, hah. Remember your first -ngh!- first time riding me? Hmm, pretty? You could hardly last more -ah fuck! don’t squeeze down on me like that- t-than a couple bounces before you were drooling on my chest and begging me to f-fuck up into you.”

Wetly smacking back down onto his lap, your clit grinds down on his pelvis, teased and tortured. 

"Always so keen to make me feel good, aren't you?"

"Yes, yes, yess! Oh, fuck, so full. I feel so full."

Herbalist!Geto hums sardonically. "Silly girl isn't even listening to me. You say you want to be praised m-more but we both know you get wetter when you're called a dirty, little slut. My dirty, little slut."

His free hand travels down your ass, giving it a tight squeeze before he lays a not-so gentle slap against it just to feel you tighten around him. 

"Say it."

SMACK!

“Ah, Suguru! I'm your dirty, l-little slut."

You gasp. You could have sworn another vein grew on his long length, teasing your walls and catching onto your greedy pleats, desperate to keep him inside. 

Thick cock worms its way inside, forcing your walls to memorise every curve and vein on its way up and back down. He’s making shallow thrusts up, striking against your g-spot with expert skill. “Missed you so much, baby. All those customers drive me crazy — none of them follow instructions as well as you do.”

Herbalist!Geto's growing closer to a damn good orgasm; he always gets more sentimental at the brink of cumming and it's why your hips don't dare stutter as you work him again and again, taking him deeper and faster.

“I’m a -hah- good girl, that’s why, Sugu.” You grin. 

He plants a sloppy kiss on your lips, enamoured by that sparkly smile. “Hmm, you are. Always such a good girl. My best girl.”

Blunt completely forgotten about and discarded somewhere, both of his hands are clutching your body close to him. One is digging into the plush of your ass, loving the ripples of the flesh with every collision of your hips to his, and the other is groping your tit.

Hips so nasty and gluttonous, it steals grunts from him, ugly, unrefined sounds that he doesn’t care if you hear. “You’re close…I can feel it. Go on, pretty. Cum all over my c-cock. Show me -hah- how much you l-love me.”

Both of your eyes are glazed over, whether from the weed or from the waves of pleasure cresting, neither of you can tell. You just fight through the ache in your joints as you bounce faster and faster on his cock, fingers rubbing against your swollen clit, sticky and slippery. Inside, you can feel his cock stiffening, growing bigger and bigger ever so slightly and you know he’s about to burst. 

Foggy, the only thing in the room you can see is his face: bead of sweat dripping down his temple, strands of hair come loose from his bun littering his forehead, and his lips are bitten pink, matching the flush on his cheeks. He's beautiful.

“Fuck, the weed’s drying my mouth out. M-make yourself useful and -hgnh!- help me out, won’t you, baby?” Like it's been wired into your brain, a fat glob drips down from your mouth and onto his awaiting tongue before you can even process the command. Just as soon as it pools into his mouth, he’s swallowing it, eyes rolling back from the taste of you.“Such a good fucking girl. You're making me lose my goddamn mind.”

You cum first. 

Clinging onto him, you whimper, clit oversensitive from the weed coursing through your veins. There’s no rhythm to his thrusts, he’s simply chasing the pulsing of your sloppy cunt, cockhead kissing that spot inside you he loves so much before his orgasm quickly follows. 

Herbalist!Geto buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and painting your walls white with a flurry of hot cum. It fills your entire body, almost as if you can feel it in your lungs and when you swallow, you delude yourself into believing it's reached your throat too.

The haze still hasn’t passed — it’s making your heartbeat so damn loud and you’re just about to ask if he can hear it but he beats you to the answer by pressing a tender kiss against your pulse, murmuring, “Me too. Mine’s beating fast too.”

Neither of you takes out his cock, much too content to let it soften inside you and much too tired to care that it’s unplugging all your cum out and making an even bigger mess on his lap. 

You’re dozing off, coming down with him when he slumps back into the sofa, letting your head rest against his chest. Deeply satisfied, you mutter, “We gotta do this again.”

“The weed or the sex?” 

Herbalist!Geto’s rubbing soothing circles on your back, pulling down your shirt and keeping you close. He chuckles when he hears you say, ‘both.’

“Whatever helps you sleep, pretty. I’m always happy to be of service, even off-hours, for my favourite client but let’s keep this bonus package between us, yeah? Don't need more of those people coming in here.”

Half-asleep now, you mutter, “Just for me?”

He lays a kiss on top of your head. 

“Only you.”

[rmview]

cold shoulders, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader  ( masterlist )

summary — how the stray kids boys react when you give them the cold shoulder after an argument and don’t forgive easily!

contents — angst, hurt, ignoring.

bang ˠ chan

chan wasn’t used to you giving him the cold shoulder. not like this. sure — you’d gotten mad at him before, bickered over small things, had moments where you huffed and turned away when he got too bossy or distant. but this? this silence was heavier. this was you not replying to his texts. not looking at him when he spoke. moving past him in the apartment like he was invisible. it killed him. 

the fight had been over something stupid. some late night at the studio when you’d begged him to come home, just one evening, just one dinner together after weeks of him being locked up in those four walls with nothing but music and stress weighing on his shoulders. and instead of agreeing, instead of apologizing, he’d snapped. told you you were being clingy. that he didn’t have time to babysit feelings when deadlines were crushing him. 

the moment the words left his mouth, he regretted them. but his pride, tired and overworked and frustrated, wouldn’t let him back down. 

now here he was — two days later — watching you move around the kitchen, headphones in, ignoring the way his gaze followed your every step. he left your favorite drink by your side of the bed. it stayed untouched. ordered takeout from that place you loved. you barely touched the food. every attempt he made to bridge the space between you, you quietly shut down. 

but chan wasn’t the type to give up. not when it came to you. he hovered in the doorway that night, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, hair a mess from restless fingers. “y/n,” he called softly, voice rough with the apology he couldn’t quite force out yet. 

you didn’t turn around. 

“i know you’re mad… and you should be,” he sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “i was a dick. i let stress get to my head and said shit i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that.” 

nothing. 

chan bit his lip, stepping closer. “i hate this, you know. us… not talking. it’s driving me insane.” when you didn’t respond, still scrolling through your phone, he sighed and sank onto the couch across from you, resting his head in his hands. “i miss you,” he mumbled into his palms. 

that made you pause. just for a second. but you didn’t say anything, didn’t soften. and honestly? he understood. because this wasn’t about a quick sorry and moving on. this was about trust. about how you’d begged for a little time, a little space in his life that wasn’t buried under pressure, and he’d brushed you aside like you didn’t matter. 

so, for the first time in a long time, bang chan decided to wait. no grand speech. no half-assed jokes to make you smile. just him, sitting quietly, hoping you’d let him earn your forgiveness the hard way. and if it took days, weeks — hell, months — he wasn’t going anywhere. because losing you, even for a second, was worse than any deadline. 

felix ˠ

felix had never seen you like this. 

you’d always been soft with him. even when you were frustrated, even when you rolled your eyes at his teasing or swatted his arm when he clung to you like an overgrown puppy, you never… iced him out. but after the fight last night — if you could even call it a fight — you’d shut down. completely. 

he stood outside your room for what felt like forever, his hand hovering near the door, chewing on his lip as he debated knocking for the hundredth time. the light from under the door flickered with your tv, shadows moving. he knew you were awake. knew you’d heard him when he came in earlier, when he called your name softly, voice heavy with regret. but you hadn’t answered. felix wasn’t used to this kind of distance. 

it had started over something small — it always did. he’d made a joke. some careless, teasing remark about how you were “too sensitive,” when you opened up about something that had been bothering you. he hadn’t meant it to sting, but the moment your expression fell, the guilt had hit him like a brick wall. and instead of apologizing properly, he’d awkwardly laughed it off, hoping you’d do the same. 

but you didn’t. you went quiet. and now, hours later, you still hadn’t said a word. 

felix paced the hallway, glancing at the door every few seconds. his chest hurt in that tight, awful way it did when things felt wrong. when people he cared about pulled away. he hated conflict. hated when the air between him and someone he loved felt heavy. 

so he grabbed his phone, sent a message. 

i’m sorry, angel. i messed up. can we talk? 

read. no reply. 

he sighed, leaning his forehead against the cool wood of your door. “y/n,” he whispered, voice cracking. “please don’t hate me.” 

still nothing. 

felix sank to the floor, back against the wall, fingers picking at the sleeve of his hoodie. he scrolled through your shared photos, stupid videos you’d taken of him half-asleep on the couch, goofy selfies he’d demanded after a coffee run, little snapshots of a relationship that had been his safe place. and now it felt like the walls were crumbling. 

he stayed there for what felt like hours, the house eerily silent except for the faint hum of your tv. he didn’t try to force his way in. didn’t flood you with texts or beg you to come out. felix wasn’t that type. he knew sometimes people needed space. but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. 

before heading back to his room, he slid a note under your door — his handwriting messy and rushed. 

i know i hurt you. i’ll wait. however long it takes. i just… i need you to know you mean everything to me. i’ll do better, i promise.

and then he left the hallway in silence, hoping you’d read it. hoping one day you’d believe it. because losing you over one stupid, thoughtless moment? that was the kind of thing felix knew he’d never forgive himself for. 

lee ˠ know 

lee know wasn’t used to being ignored. especially not by you. 

you’d always been the person who called him out, pushed past his walls when no one else dared to. the one who teased him right back when he got sarcastic, who softened him with a smile when his words were sharp. but now… now you wouldn’t even look at him, and it was all his fault. 

the fight had started ugly. tension building all week, small frustrations piling up until he said something he shouldn’t have. something cruel. defensive. his voice had been cold when he’d spat, “maybe if you weren’t always acting like you know everything, we wouldn’t be fighting all the damn time.” 

and the second he saw the way your face fell — the way you’d swallowed hard, biting your lip like you were forcing yourself not to break — his heart had dropped straight to his stomach. especially since you didn’t yell back. didn’t cry. you went silent. and that silence hurt worse than any words you could’ve thrown at him. 

now, hours later, you’d locked yourself in your room, your phone untouched on the counter. every time he passed by your door, the knot in his stomach tightened. the part of him that always needed to win, to have the last word, crumbled under the weight of how badly he’d messed up. 

lee know paced the living room, restless. he thought about leaving — giving you space, like maybe that would help — but he couldn’t do it. not with the way your silence haunted the house. not with the memory of your eyes flickering, just for a second, like he was someone you didn’t recognize anymore. 

“y/n,” he called softly, standing outside your door, voice rough with regret. “i didn’t mean it.” 

nothing. 

he let out a heavy breath, raking a hand through his hair. “i’m… i’m bad at this, okay? at saying how i feel. and when i get scared, or—” he cut himself off, scowling at how pathetic he sounded. “i push people away. but i don’t wanna push you away.” 

silence. the kind that made his chest ache in a way he didn’t know how to fix. 

lee know leaned his forehead against the door. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his pride cracking wide open. “for being a dick. for not knowing how to handle someone who actually… cares about me.” 

he stayed there, listening to the quiet hum of your music inside. he could picture you lying on the bed, headphones in, pretending you didn’t hear him. and honestly, maybe he deserved it. deserved to stew in it a little. but that didn’t stop the urge to fix it. 

“look,” he muttered, clearing his throat. “i don’t expect you to forgive me right now. hell, i don’t know if you ever will. but i’m not gonna pretend like it doesn’t matter to me. because it does.” 

his fingers brushed against the doorknob before he pulled away. “i’ll wait,” he said, softer now. “and when you’re ready to yell at me or cuss me out or whatever… i’ll be here.” 

and then he left, the hollow ache in his chest heavier than it had been in years. because losing you? that wasn’t something lee know could stomach. 

hyun ˠ jin 

hyunjin wasn’t good at waiting. you hadn’t said a word to him since the fight. not a glance, not a muttered complaint, not a teasing shove. the silence was brutal — worse than any shouting match you’d ever had, worse than when you used to push each other’s buttons just to see who’d crack first. but this time, it was different, because he’d gone too far. 

the words still echoed in his head, laced with heat and spite. he’d been tired. stressed. the comeback preparations were gnawing at his nerves, and the last thing he wanted was to drag you into it. but you’d called him out — like you always did when he started spiraling — and instead of leaning on you, he shoved you away. 

“maybe it’s easier if you just stay out of my life,” he’d snapped, his voice sharp enough to cut glass. 

the moment the words left his mouth, he felt it. that gut-wrenching regret, the instant knowledge that he didn’t mean it — not for a second. but it was too late. he watched the light drain from your face, watched your jaw clench like you were holding back tears. and then you left, the soft click of the door behind you feeling louder than any slammed one. 

now, hours later, the apartment was too quiet. the lack of your presence gnawed at him. hyunjin sat on the couch, a sketchbook in his lap, though his pencil hadn’t moved in ages. he kept glancing at his phone, willing it to light up with your name. an angry text. a scathing message. anything. but nothing came. 

“y/n,” he muttered to himself, scrubbing a hand down his face. “god, i’m such an idiot.” 

he finally got up, heart pounding, and padded toward your room. the door was cracked open, but you weren’t inside. the bed still made, the window slightly ajar. he bit his lip, guilt settling heavier in his chest. “can we… can we talk?” he asked softly, though the room stayed empty. 

hyunjin sighed, leaning against the doorframe. “i don’t know why i always do this. push people away when i’m hurting. you didn’t deserve that. you didn’t deserve any of it.” 

he blinked hard, his throat tight. the sketchbook in his hands felt heavier than ever. he flipped it open, revealing the latest page — a half-finished sketch of you. quietly beautiful, eyes crinkled in laughter like the way you used to look at him. 

“i keep trying to pretend i’m okay on my own,” he continued, voice breaking a little. “but the truth is… i’m not. not without you.” 

the silence felt suffocating. he left the sketchbook on your bed, open to that page, and stepped back. he didn’t expect you to forgive him right away. honestly, he wasn’t even sure if you’d come back tonight. yet he still hoped.

“whenever you’re ready,” hyunjin whispered, backing out of the room. “i’ll be here, waiting.” and for once, he meant to wait. 

jeong ˠ in 

jeongin knew the second the words left his mouth that he’d regret them. 

but in the heat of the moment — heart pounding, frustration thick in his chest — he hadn’t cared. he just wanted to win the argument. he wanted you to stop looking at him with that wounded expression, to stop making him feel like the bad guy. 

“i don’t even know why i bother with you sometimes,” he’d muttered bitterly, storming out before he could see the way your face crumpled. and now, he wished he hadn’t. because it had been two days. two entire days. 

you’d ignored his texts, left his calls unanswered, even avoided the group chat the two of you usually spammed with memes and inside jokes. at the dorm, he caught himself glancing at your contact every few minutes, wondering if maybe you’d just decide to yell at him and get it over with. anything would’ve been better than this complete, aching silence. 

jeongin hated this. hated not hearing your laugh. hated knowing he was the reason you weren’t smiling. he sat alone on the rooftop that night, hoodie pulled up, fiddling with his phone while his stomach churned. the city lights blurred below him, and every notification made his heart stutter — hoping, praying it was you. but it never was. 

“damn it,” he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. he remembered the way you always brought him snacks after a long practice. the way you’d mock him for being dramatic but still hug him when he was down. the little things he took for granted until now. and now? he might’ve lost you for good because of his stupid temper. 

he scrolled through your old messages, fingers trembling a little when he reached a picture you’d sent a week ago — you and him at the arcade, grinning like idiots with matching plushies on your heads. his throat burned. 

“i didn’t mean it, y/n,” he whispered into the night. “i was angry. and scared. and stupid.” he bit his lip, hesitating before typing out yet another message. 

i miss you. i’m sorry.

he stared at the words, thumb hovering over the send button, before eventually locking his phone without sending it. because he knew sorry wouldn’t be enough this time. not right away. but jeongin wasn’t giving up. 

tomorrow, he’d wait outside your place with your favorite pastries. he’d sit in front of your door if he had to, leave notes, beg your forgiveness with every cheesy rom-com move he could think of. because losing you wasn’t an option. not to him. 

“i’ll fix this,” he promised quietly to the empty sky. “no matter what it takes.” 

han ˠ

han wasn’t used to you ignoring him. you were the one person who never made him feel like he was “too much.” the one who laughed at his dumb jokes, let him ramble at three a.m., and knew how to calm his overthinking when it spun out of control. but now… the silence was unbearable. 

he could still hear his own voice from that night, sharp and reckless in the heat of the argument. “you always do this! acting like you’re perfect when you’re just as messed up as the rest of us. maybe i need someone who isn’t always breathing down my neck.” 

the minute it came out, he regretted it. your face had fallen — not angry, just quietly devastated. and that hurt worse than if you’d screamed. yet instead of apologizing, han did what he always did when he didn’t know how to handle emotions: he ran. left before you could reply, thinking he’d cool off, come back, and fix it later. 

except later never came, because now you weren’t replying. not to his spam messages. not to the voice notes he left you at midnight. not to the random memes or his half-baked apologies typed and deleted a hundred times. 

even when he tried casually showing up outside your building with bubble tea like it was just another day, your roommate told him you didn’t want to see him. and han… han was spiraling. 

“idiot,” he cursed himself, pacing his room for the tenth time that night. his phone buzzed with group chat nonsense, and he barely glanced at it. his world felt a little too quiet without you in it. 

he lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of everything sank in. you made him better. you kept him grounded when his brain turned against him. you were the only one who understood that when han cracked a joke, it sometimes meant he was falling apart underneath. and now? he might’ve ruined that. 

“i miss you,” he whispered into the emptiness of his room. his chest ached when he scrolled to your contact, thumb trembling as he typed. 

i get it if you don’t wanna talk. but please… can you just tell me if you’re okay? that’s all i need.

he sent it this time. didn’t care if it made him look desperate, because han jisung would rather be a fool in love than lose you forever. 

tomorrow, if you didn’t reply, he’d show up anyway. bring your favorite snacks, stand outside your door like a lovesick puppy, and refuse to leave until you opened it. he didn’t know how to be okay without you. and maybe he didn’t deserve you, but he wasn’t going to give up. not this time. 

seung ˠ min 

seungmin never expected you to forgive him easily. he knew you. you didn’t play games. if something hurt, you wouldn’t pretend it didn’t. but this… this silence hurt more than he was prepared for. he could still hear the words he’d thrown that night, laced with frustration and pride. “if you can’t handle being with someone like me, maybe you shouldn’t be with me at all.” 

he didn’t mean it. god, he didn’t mean it. it was the kind of thing you said in a moment where your pride bruised before your heart could catch up. you’d been calling him out for shutting down when he was stressed, for acting like he didn’t care. and instead of explaining that he cared too much, seungmin pushed back. 

it wasn’t his style to beg for forgiveness. he thought time and space would cool things down, that maybe in a day or two you’d send a dry text like, ‘you’re still an asshole.’ 

but nothing came. no good morning text. no sarcastic comeback in the group chat. no midnight video call asking if he ate. seungmin felt the emptiness in ways he didn’t know how to name. the apartment was too quiet without your teasing remarks. the coffee he made tasted wrong without your constant complaint that it was “too bitter, like your personality.” even the ridiculous variety shows you forced him to watch alone felt dull. 

he found himself checking his phone every few minutes, not even pretending it was for anything else. days passed like this. and though his pride tried to convince him it was fine, his heart knew better. you weren’t ignoring him to win a fight. you were hurt and he was the one who did it. 

seungmin sat on his couch one evening, your favorite snack in a bag beside him — he’d instinctively grabbed it on his grocery run. without thinking, he opened his messages. 

i’m not good at this. but i’m sorry. i said something i didn’t mean because i was scared you’d leave first. i get it if you don’t want to talk to me now, but… i miss you. and i’ll wait.

he sent it before his overthinking could stop him. then he stared at the screen. waited. hoped. even if you didn’t forgive him soon, seungmin promised himself he’d show up. in his own quiet, stubborn, seungmin way — one snack, one dry text, one poorly hidden soft moment at a time. because you mattered more than his pride ever could. 

chang ˠ bin 

changbin could deal with shouting. hell, he preferred it. if you screamed at him, told him he was an idiot, threw a pillow in his face and called him names — at least it meant you still cared enough to be mad. but this? this silence? it was killing him. 

it had started after that stupid fight. something small and dumb at first — he came home late from practice without texting, you were already upset from a bad day, words escalated, tempers flared. and in the heat of it, he’d let frustration speak for him. 

“if being with me’s such a burden, maybe you shouldn’t be.” the second it left his mouth, changbin wanted to snatch the words out of the air and swallow them whole. 

but your face… the way it fell, the way your eyes glossed over, like you physically felt those words hit you — he knew he fucked up. and now, three days later, you hadn’t answered his texts. you didn’t pick up his calls. he even sent you a voice note because you always teased him about how he sounded in them — but even that, left on read. 

when you crossed paths at the company building by accident, you didn’t spare him a glance. didn’t even acknowledge his presence. that crushed him more than he thought possible. 

in public, changbin still smiled, still cracked jokes with the boys, but they could see something was off. he was quieter. distracted. constantly checking his phone like a man waiting on a miracle. 

back home, your absence was everywhere. the sweatshirt you left on his chair. the playlist you made still queued on his speaker. your favorite mug untouched on the shelf. he missed you so bad it made his chest ache. 

one night, unable to take it anymore, changbin grabbed his keys and headed to your apartment. his hand shook when he knocked, heart pounding like it was trying to break out of his ribcage. 

you opened the door, expression guarded, arms crossed like a barrier between you and the storm he brought. 

“i know you don’t wanna hear from me,” changbin started, voice rough. “and you don’t owe me anything. but… i had no right to say what i did. i was pissed, and i took it out on you, and that’s not okay.” 

you stayed silent, but your eyes glistened. 

“i miss you. everything about you. even your nagging, even your bad taste in tv shows. i miss you so much it hurts.” he took a breath, chest tight. “i’m not here to beg. i’m here to tell you i’m sorry. and… that no matter how long it takes, i’ll be waiting for you to forgive me. ‘cause you’re it for me.” 

your gaze faltered for a second, and in that tiny crack, changbin let hope slip in. he didn’t know when — or if — you’d let him back in. but he’d wait. because some people are worth it, and for changbin, you always would be. 

notes: aww poor guys xp but anon wanted them to suffer so that’s all they’ll do this fic xD no part 2!

[formulaonecrumbs]

just read the max with an older sister and my heart broke for baby max 🥲🥲🥲 i'm begging for more max with an older sister pls

his favourite person

Max Verstappen x older sister!reader

summary: quiet moments between max and his favourite person who makes the world feel safe.

warnings: sibling fluff

A/N: thank u anon for the request!!! i’m very happy u enjoyed the last one and i hope this one has the same effect for u :p i made this one more fluffy, sweet and domestic if u will. love u hehe ❤️❤️

༻ ❤︎︎ ༺

“max,” she called, peeking into his room. “i made pancakes.”

he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, deep in concentration as he built some complicated lego set. his tongue was sticking out slightly, and his hoodie sleeves were pulled over his hands like they always were when he was extra focused.

he looked up at her voice, eyes lighting up instantly.

“with chocolate chips?”

she grinned. “of course. who do you think i am?”

he scrambled to his feet and followed her to the kitchen like a little shadow, bare feet padding softly behind her. he was still quiet in that way he always was around most people, but with her, it was different. he wasn’t afraid to smile, to laugh, to let his guard down. she never made him feel like he had to be anything other than exactly who he was.

“can i sit on the counter?” he asked, already climbing up.

“you’re literally already up there, dummy,” she said, ruffling his hair as she passed him a plate.

he took it with both hands like it was something delicate. “you always make them the best,” he said, quiet but sincere.

she raised a brow, amused. “better than mom’s?”

he hesitated. “…don’t tell her, but yeah.”

that made her laugh, and he smiled too — proud of himself for getting a laugh out of her.

she poured them both juice, then leaned her elbows on the counter beside him. “so,” she said between bites, “how’s the lego spaceship coming along?”

“good,” he said around a mouthful of pancake. “it has a hidden blaster under the wings. wanna see later?”

“obviously.” she nudged his foot with hers. “what kind of sister would i be if i didn’t admire your genius?”

max blushed, ducking his head like he didn’t know what to do with the compliment.

but then he looked up and asked, in a voice a little softer than before, “you’re not gonna go back to uni yet, right?”

her chest tugged a little — not in a sad way, just in that gentle kind of ache when someone loves you out loud.

“not for a few days,” she said. “why?”

he shrugged, swinging his feet slowly. “just like when you’re home.”

she bumped her shoulder against his. “yeah? well, i like being home too. especially when you’re here.”

he looked at her, and she could see it in his eyes — how much he meant it, how much he trusted her. even when he didn’t have the words for it.

“save me one of those pancakes tomorrow,” she added. “or i’m kicking you off the counter.”

he grinned, mouth full again. “deal.”

THE END :>