#i stumbled into all of this while looking for one little detail for a joke post lmao

[alagaesia-headcanons]

A few times I've expressed how I feel like the later parts of the series really screw over Orrin and treat his character poorly. And I've seen some other people say similar things. But for a long while know, I've been conflicted about how exactly the books disservices him. Because, since writing this character analysis of him, I found that I don't disagree with the actual things he says and does. Like I mentioned there, I think the way his composure crumbles and how he becomes more aggressive and unreasonable makes a lot of sense in the context of what he's going through. He's lost everyone and he turns to drinking as anger and fear eat away at him. I think it works as a character arc, albeit a very sad one. And yet, I still get the feeling of the books doing wrong by Orrin and I've been trying to wrap my mind around why.

I was rereading the scene where Orrin wants to send an envoy to Uru'baen and Roran demands that he doesn't. Initially, I felt like this was one of the few moments where it does feel out of character for him, simply for the story to paint him in an exaggeratedly bad light. But I tried to reason out in what way it maybe could be in character (because I live for that). And it clicked into place. Orrin says it right there! "'But they can see us,' protested Orrin. 'We're camped right outside their walls. It would be... rude not to send an envoy to state our position. You are both commoners; I would not expect you to understand. Royalty demands certain courtesies, even if we are at war.'"

The issue at hand here is that Roran is arguing that sending an envoy to Galbatorix might provoke him to attack them. What Orrin is saying is that, as opposed to Roran and Jormundur, he knows what a king would expect to deal with when under attack, which includes envoys. If it would be perceived as rude and disrespectful to not send one, that insult could just as well be provoke Galbatorix into attacking. It makes perfect sense that, if Orrin sees this as a courtesy a king would feel entitled to, he believes it would be dangerous to risk slighting Galbatorix by failing to do it. Roran tells him, "'I won't let you endanger the rest of us just to satisfy your royal... pride.'" But it seems infinitely more likely that Orrin is attempting to satisfy Galbatorix's royal pride. I do think that not sending an envoy is a bit more sensible because, as Roran says, Galbatorix was born a commoner and likely has his own expectations (though what he goes on to say has flaws), but Orrin is still raising a very fair point by arguing that they should send one. And honestly, given what we see of Galbatorix, I don't think there was any danger of an envoy provoking him either.

But the more important thing about that realization that struck me is that I read that section at least 6 times before it occurred to me. I read it over and over while thinking "Orrin's argument doesn't make any sense, I don't know why he's saying this" before realizing it actually makes perfect sense. And it's because I believe that the true way that the series disservices Orrin's character is through the bias of the other characters and their narrations. This exchange is written in Roran's POV and it's riddled with his derision towards Orrin, his insistence that he's wrong, that he'll get them killed, and his overall very low opinion of him which colors how he sees all of Orrin's acts. And Jormundur shares his distaste and expresses his own.

Out of curiosity, I cut everything but the dialogue (sans 2 irrelevant lines) to see how it would read. It's very different; it shows how Orrin is reasonable at the start and how unwarranted Roran's combative and brazenly insulting response is. It really changes this scene from "Roran heroically saving everyone from the fallout of Orrin's stupid, careless choice," and reveals that it's just an argument- unhelpful and devolving where they both end up making inappropriate mistakes, one after the other.

Of course, there are real issues with Orrin's actions, in this case namely that his very wound up fear and frustration make him intensely volatile, enough that he tries to attack Roran here. That is egregious. But then that's compounded upon by all these other "flaws" perceived by the other characters in such an exaggerated way to the point of being fabricated. Roran sees him as dangerously stupid and vainglorious for wanting to send an envoy, despite putting absolutely no effort into learning his reason. It's just real rich that Roran then thinks, "Orrin was like a yearling mule: stubborn, overconfident, and all too willing to kick you in the gut if you gave him the opportunity." Lmao! Bitch look in the mirror, that's literally you!!!

This kind of depiction epitomizes Orrin's presence through the entire series. Every single POV characters has reason to be against him, starting with Nasuada. As a result of both of their respective positions, she sees him as a potential threat and obstacle to her goals. Through his connection to her, Eragon sees him the same way and Saphira follows suit. And Roran adopts the opinion of his cousin and his commander. So all of the POV characters are adverse to Orrin, but also, so is every single background character.

There is no one to offer or even contemplate a differing opinion in the face of the main characters' unilateral distaste. Once, literally once do we see Orrin talking to another Surdan. He gets a single line in the scene where Nasuada is appointed leader of their combined forces. Never again. We never see him interact with anyone not predisposed against him. None of his advisors, his soldiers, his friends. Every moment of Orrin's life involving the people who'd have a basis to get along with, or even like him go unseen by the entire story. And on the other side, that also means we never get to see how Orrin would interact with anyone without an incentive to work against him. So the narrative's bias against Orrin goes completely uninterrupted and unchallenged. It shows itself virtually every time he's present.

That is why the series feels so unfair towards Orrin, because in order to understand his actual intentions, it demands that the reader consider a perspective that the story refuses to ever provide. It requires ignoring perspectives that narrate everything and then giving a great deal of focus to Orrin's actions in isolation. It sets him up to be misunderstood and disliked because the easiest way to read his story is to follow along with the misunderstanding and dislike all the other characters express. The books actively obscure the true nature of Orrin's character.

[021894s]

LOVE NEXT DOOR - p.sh

SUMMARY: After discovering your fiancé’s infidelity, you leave behind the life you’d built in the U.S. and return to Korea to stay with your parents. The familiar streets and faces bring a bittersweet nostalgia, but nothing compares to reuniting with Sunghoon, your childhood best friend. He’s different now—more reserved, maybe a bit colder. While he tries to bury the feelings he thought he’d left in the past, being around you stirs something in him that he can’t ignore. And as you start to find comfort in each other again, you both realize that some feelings never truly fade.

PAIRING: childhood bsf! sunghoon x f!reader

WARNINGS: smut (oral m and f receiving, unprotected sex), angst, denial, mentions of cheating

wc: 20k

You’re not sure what you expected when you walked into your apartment that day. You’d left early for a business trip—an opportunity too good to pass up, even if it meant being away from Daniel for a few days. The wedding was only a month away, and you’d been looking forward to everything finally settling into place. You’d imagined your life with him so many times: your wedding day, the honeymoon, the house you’d live in together, the family you’d build. It was all supposed to be perfect.

But as you pushed open the bedroom door, the world you’d been building shattered.

There they were, tangled in sheets that were meant for the two of you. Daniel's eyes widened in shock, but he didn't even bother scrambling for an excuse. You felt your chest tighten, each heartbeat a hammer against your ribs. For a moment, you stood frozen, every emotion rushing through you all at once—anger, betrayal, disgust, disbelief. The room, filled with their hurried whispers and excuses, began to spin, and you could hardly breathe.

You’d spent countless hours planning your future together, from the lace details on your wedding dress to the way you’d wear your hair. You had been so meticulous, imagining every little moment, every dance, every vow. Now, each of those dreams felt like a cruel joke. The engagement ring on your finger suddenly felt heavy, almost suffocating, a symbol of the love and trust that had been so easily shattered.

You weren’t supposed to be home. The thought lingers as you stand in the doorway, frozen, watching the scene unfold in front of you. Daniel, the man you were supposed to marry in a month, is tangled in your sheets with another woman. His face pales, and he stumbles over himself, trying to sit up, as if there’s any explanation that could possibly make this right.

“Y/N, I can explain,” he starts, throwing on the shirt that had been discarded on the floor. His voice is a mix of desperation and guilt.

“Explain?” you manage, though your throat feels tight, your voice barely a whisper. You feel like you’re in a daze, like this can’t possibly be real. “You’re in our bed, Daniel. The bed where we—” You choke on your words, unable to finish the sentence. Everything you’d built with him, all the dreams and plans, now feel hollow and meaningless.

He takes a step toward you, but you instinctively back away. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It was a mistake, Y/N. Please, just let me—”

“A mistake?” You let out a bitter laugh, the sound foreign even to yourself. “We’re supposed to get married in a month, Daniel. A month! I was planning our wedding while you were—” You stop, shaking your head as the reality of it all starts to sink in. “Did you ever even care about us? About me?”

“Of course I did,” he says, his voice cracking. But there’s a hollowness in his words, one that you can’t unhear now.

“Don’t,” you interrupt, holding up your hand to stop him. “Just… don’t. I trusted you. I thought you loved me.” The weight of the engagement ring on your finger feels unbearable now, as if it’s mocking you, reminding you of every lie he’s ever told. You pull it off and toss it onto the bed, where it lands with a soft thud. “Keep it. I don’t want it anymore.”

He reaches for you, his hand outstretched, but you step back. “Y/N, please, don’t go. We can fix this—”

“Fix this?” You laugh again, the sound almost hysterical. “There’s nothing left to fix, Daniel. You ruined it. You ruined us.” The finality of your words hangs in the air, and for the first time, he seems to understand that this is it. You’re done.

Without another word, you turn and walk out, leaving behind the life you’d once believed in, the future you’d painstakingly planned. And as you step outside into the fresh air, you feel a strange sense of relief mixed with the ache of betrayal. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The hotel room is cold and impersonal, nothing like the home you’d shared with him. As you sit on the edge of the bed, you feel the weight of everything crashing down on you. You’re alone, truly alone, in a way you haven’t been since you first moved to the U.S. Daniel was supposed to be your constant, the one person you could rely on in this foreign place. Now, it all feels like a lie.

You clutch a pillow to your chest, trying to hold yourself together as the realization sinks in. You gave up so much to be with him, to build a life together. You left behind friends, family, and a whole world you knew, all for someone who didn’t care enough to stay faithful. The emptiness that fills you is overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, you feel lost.

The next day, you return to your shared apartment. The place feels different now—tainted, like a ghost of the life you thought you had. You walk through each room, collecting your things in a daze, each item a painful reminder of a future that no longer exists.

In the bedroom, you pause, glancing at the photos on the nightstand. One of them is from the day he proposed, your faces beaming with happiness that now feels so far away. You grab the picture frame and toss it into a box, the glass cracking as it hits the other items. It feels oddly satisfying.

Once you’ve packed everything, you head to work for what you know will be the last time. The office is buzzing with the usual hum of conversations and keyboard clicks, but it all feels distant, like you’re watching it from the outside.

You find your boss in his office, and he looks up as you walk in. “Y/N, I wasn’t expecting you back so soon. How was the trip?”

You force a smile, though it barely reaches your eyes. “The trip was fine, but I need to talk to you about something.”

He senses the seriousness in your tone and gestures for you to sit. “What’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, you steady yourself. “I’m resigning. Effective immediately.”

He blinks, surprised. “Are you sure? I mean, you have such a promising future here, and—”

“I’m going back to Korea,” you say, cutting him off. “There’s… there’s nothing left for me here.” You swallow hard, fighting back the tears threatening to fall. “I need to go home.”

He nods slowly, seeming to understand that this isn’t just a spur-of-the-moment decision. “I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N. We’ll miss you around here.”

The finality of it all feels like a release, and as you walk out of the office for the last time, you feel a strange mix of sadness and relief. You’re leaving behind everything you’d built, but you’re also walking away from the pain, from the betrayal. It’s time to start over, to find yourself again. And you know exactly where you need to be.

With your suitcases in hand, you leave the apartment, the job, and the life you’d once loved, and head for the airport. This time, you’re going home—for good.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The plane ride back to Korea feels like a dream—a hazy, surreal blur where the reality of what’s happened hasn’t quite caught up with you. You stare out the window, watching as the city below grows closer, the familiar landscape bringing a wave of bittersweet nostalgia. You’re going home, but not for the reasons you ever imagined.

You feel a wave of apprehension mixed with relief. You hadn’t planned on returning home so abruptly, with nothing but a suitcase and a broken heart, and you certainly hadn’t told anyone. You let yourself imagine how surprised your parents will be when you show up at the door unannounced. But you push the thought aside as you step into a cab, the familiar cityscape passing by in a blur.

The familiar street feels almost surreal as you pull up to your parents’ house, the one you haven’t seen in years. After everything that’s happened, this was the only place that felt like it could hold you together. As you step out of the cab and stand in front of the door, the weight of your decision settles over you. 

You take a deep breath and ring the bell. you stand at the door, hesitating. You haven’t been here in so long, and everything looks just as it did before—yet somehow different. The door swings open to reveal your mother’s shocked face.

“Y/N?” she gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Is it really you?”

“It’s me, Mom,” you say, managing a small smile as she pulls you into a tight hug. 

“Oh, honey!” She squeezes you, almost as if to make sure you’re real, then steps back, looking you over with a mixture of joy and worry. “What are you doing here? We didn’t know you were coming!”

“I know. I wanted it to be a surprise.” You look over her shoulder to see your father standing in the doorway, his expression just as bewildered.

“Well, come in, come in!” Your mother ushers you inside, closing the door behind you. Your father wraps you in a quick hug, his grip firm but gentle.

“What brings you back home so suddenly?” he asks, his voice tinged with concern. “We thought you’d be busy with wedding plans.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression steady. “Yeah… I just needed to get away for a bit. I missed you both.”

Your mother gives you a searching look, sensing there’s more to the story. “But your wedding is only a month away. Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, forcing a smile. “Daniel and I decided to take a break. I just needed some space to think, so I thought it’d be nice to come home for a while.”

Your parents exchange glances, their worry deepening. “A break?” your father echoes. “This close to the wedding?”

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself against the wave of emotion that threatens to break through. “Yeah, it was a last-minute decision. But I promise, it’s nothing to worry about. I just… needed to clear my head.”

Your mother reaches out and takes your hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “We’re here for you, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

“I know.” You squeeze her hand, grateful for their presence. “I just needed to be here. With you.”

Your father nods, his expression softening. “Well, you’re always welcome here. For as long as you need.”

 They settle into the familiar rhythm of conversation, asking about your flight and your plans, you find a small sense of comfort in their voices. But beneath it all, you can feel the questions they aren’t asking, the truths you’re not yet ready to share. For now, you let their warmth surround you, clinging to it like a lifeline in the storm you’re still navigating alone.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

As the night settles in, you find yourself standing in the doorway of your childhood bedroom, heart pounding. It feels both familiar and foreign, the walls adorned with posters of your teenage dreams and the desk still cluttered with relics of late-night study sessions. You push the door open, stepping inside and allowing the memories to wash over you. 

The bed is made, just as you left it all those years ago, with the comforter patterned in pastel colors and stuffed animals peeking out from under the pillows. You take a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your childhood—the faint hint of lavender air freshener mixed with the familiar aroma of old books. It’s comforting and painful all at once.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your mind drifts back to nights spent cramming for exams, the soft glow of the desk lamp illuminating pages of notes and textbooks. You remember laughing with your friends during late-night study sessions, the sound of their voices filling the air as you all shared dreams and plans for the future. Those were simpler times, before life became a tangled web of expectations and disappointments.

With each memory, a wave of nostalgia crashes over you, but the pain of your recent reality looms just beneath the surface. You can almost hear the echoes of your younger self, confident and excited about the future. Now, you feel like a shadow of that person, haunted by the weight of betrayal.

You shake your head, forcing a smile as you pull out your pajamas from your suitcase. No sense in dwelling on the past. You need to maintain the strong front you’ve put on for your parents. They deserve to see you as the daughter who’s come home, not the girl whose world has crumbled in a matter of weeks.

As you change into your pajamas, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror—your eyes tired and a hint of sadness in your smile. But you quickly brush it aside, reminding yourself that you can’t let them see how vulnerable you feel. Your parents have already expressed their concerns; you can’t burden them with the truth just yet. You don’t want to break their hearts with the reality of why you’re here.

Slipping under the covers, you take a moment to appreciate the softness of the sheets, the way they wrap around you like a warm embrace. You lie back, staring at the ceiling, and allow your thoughts to wander. You think of Daniel, of the way everything fell apart so quickly, and the ache in your chest sharpens. But you breathe through it, determined not to let the tears spill over.

Instead, you focus on the memories that fill this room, allowing yourself a brief moment of comfort before the darkness creeps back in. You can hear your mother’s soft footsteps in the hallway, her gentle voice drifting through the walls as she chats with your father. They’re worried about you, and you know it. But you refuse to let them see the cracks in your facade. 

You close your eyes, the past and present collide in a whirlwind of emotion, but you push the chaos aside, seeking solace in the familiarity of your childhood sanctuary. Here, in this room, you can hold on to the illusion of safety, if only for a little while longer.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next morning, you wake up to the smell of something familiar—your mother’s cooking. For a moment, you let yourself enjoy the simplicity of it, the warmth of home wrapping around you like a blanket. You push back the covers and head downstairs, where you find her bustling around the kitchen, setting the table like she used to when you were in high school.

“Good morning,” she says brightly as she sees you, her smile wide and welcoming. “I made your favorite—jeon and kimchi jjigae. Figured you could use a nice breakfast after that long flight.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You slide into a chair at the table, the normalcy of the moment grounding you. It’s almost like the old days when everything was so simple—just you, your parents, and a quiet morning before the day truly began.

She sets a plate down in front of you, the scene feels like something out of the past. The kitchen hasn’t changed, with the same floral curtains and the light clinking of dishes filling the quiet space. It’s peaceful, almost enough to make you forget why you’re back.

You both fall into an easy conversation—talking about small things like the weather, what’s been happening in the neighborhood, and her latest gardening projects. She doesn’t press about Daniel or the wedding, and you’re thankful for the reprieve. You’re determined to keep up this front, to act like everything’s fine, at least for now.

Just as you start to relax into the conversation, the front door flies open with a loud bang, and a familiar voice cuts through the morning calm.

“Y/N!”

You look up just as Yeji storms into the kitchen, her expression a mix of excitement and disbelief.

“How could you not tell me you were coming back?” she demands, standing with her hands on her hips as she glares at you in mock offense. “I had to hear it from our mom’s call this morning! Do you know how betrayed I feel right now?”

You blink in surprise, a guilty smile tugging at your lips. “Yeji, I—”

“Unbelievable,” she cuts you off, shaking her head. “I thought we were best friends! You’re lucky I love you.”

She strides over and pulls you into a tight hug before you can finish your sentence. You laugh softly, hugging her back. “I’m sorry, I didn’t tell anyone. It was a last-minute thing.”

Yeji pulls away and gives you a playful glare. “You owe me, big time.”

Your mother, who has been watching this entire exchange with an amused smile, shakes her head. “I told her she should’ve called you first,” she teases, glancing between the two of you.

Yeji crosses her arms, looking at you expectantly. “Well, you’re here now, so spill. What’s going on? Why the sudden return?”

You feel the weight of her question hang in the air, but before you can figure out how to answer, your mom steps in.

“Let her eat first, Yeji,” she chides gently. “She just got here yesterday.”

Yeji grumbles, taking a seat next to you with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But after breakfast, you better be ready to talk. No way you’re getting out of this.”

You smile, feeling the warmth of her friendship wrap around you, even as you dread the inevitable questions. For now, though, you focus on the food in front of you, allowing the conversation to flow around you like it used to—just another morning in the house where everything was simple.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

“Im heading to the market to get stuff I need for tonight’s dinner. I’ll be back in a little,” Your mom tells you, walking out the door and closing it behind her.

Yeji narrows her eyes, tapping her fingers on the table. “Okay, Y/N. Enough stalling. Why are you really back? This close to the wedding? What’s going on with you and Daniel?”

You feel your stomach tighten, but you keep your face neutral, cutting a piece of pancake as if her question hasn’t hit you like a punch to the gut. “I told you, I just wanted to visit. I missed everyone.”

Yeji isn’t convinced. “Y/N, don’t give me that. You didn’t even tell me you were coming back, and you’re usually texting me about every little thing. Now you show up out of nowhere, and we’re supposed to believe this is just a friendly visit?”

You meet her gaze, your heart pounding, but you force yourself to stay calm. “It is. There’s nothing else to it.”

She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Come on. You and I both know something’s up. Was there a fight? Did Daniel do something?”

You shake your head quickly. “Yeji, really. I just needed a break. That’s all.”

Yeji stares at you for a moment longer, waiting for you to crack, but when you don’t, she throws her hands up in defeat. “Fine. Keep your secrets. But mark my words, I’ll get it out of you one way or another.”

You breathe a silent sigh of relief as she finally drops the topic. You’re not ready to talk about Daniel, or the betrayal that shattered everything. Not yet.

Yeji leans back in her chair, crossing her arms. “Anyway, speaking of things you haven’t told me… have you seen Sunghoon yet?”

The question takes you off guard, and you look at her, surprised. “Sunghoon?”

“Yeah,” Yeji says, eyeing you with a knowing smirk. “Your other childhood bestie? The one who’s still very much around? He lives next door, you know.”

You fidget with your fork, feeling an odd mix of emotions stir at the mention of his name. “No, I haven’t seen him yet.”

Yeji tilts her head. “Really? You’ve been here since yesterday and haven’t run into him? That’s weird. He’s practically part of your family.”

You shrug, trying to appear indifferent. “I got in late, and I’ve been busy with unpacking. It’s not that surprising.”

Yeji chuckles. “He’s going to be so mad you didn’t tell him you were coming back either. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, Y/N.”

You manage a small laugh, though the thought of seeing Sunghoon after all these years sends a small flutter of anxiety through you. Things with him had always been comfortable, easy, but after so long apart, you’re not sure what to expect. And after everything that’s happened with Daniel, the idea of facing someone who knows you so well feels almost too raw.

“Well, good luck with that,” Yeji says, giving you a teasing smile. “You know how he is. He’s probably going to give you the cold shoulder for a bit.”

You force a grin, though you’re already dreading the inevitable reunion. “Yeah. I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that afternoon, feeling a bit restless from being inside all morning, you decide to take a walk to the nearby convenience store. The air is crisp and cool, and the quiet hum of the neighborhood feels calming. It’s the kind of peace you missed during your years abroad, and for a moment, you let yourself relax, letting the familiar surroundings ease your mind.

As you approach the store, lost in thought, you nearly bump into someone coming out. You step back, about to apologize, when you realize who it is. Sunghoon.

Your heart stutters in your chest as you take in the sight of him. He looks the same, yet somehow different. Taller, more mature. His dark hair falls slightly over his eyes, and he’s dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans, holding a bag of snacks in one hand. But it’s his expression that catches you off guard—cool, almost indifferent, as his eyes meet yours.

“Sunghoon?” you say, trying to mask the awkwardness creeping into your voice. “I didn’t think I’d run into you here.”

He blinks, a brief flicker of surprise crossing his face before it quickly fades into something more guarded. “Y/N,” he says, his tone even. “I heard you were back.”

There’s no warmth in his voice, no hint of the familiarity you used to share. The coldness of his reaction makes your stomach drop, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say.

“Yeah… I came back yesterday.” You offer a small, tentative smile, hoping to ease the tension. “It was kind of a last-minute thing.”

Sunghoon nods, but his expression doesn’t change. “I figured.”

You stand there awkwardly, the weight of the unspoken tension between you heavier than you expected. This wasn’t how you thought it would go. He used to be one of your closest friends, someone you could talk to about anything. Now, it feels like you’re standing in front of a stranger.

“Have you been okay?” you ask, trying to bridge the gap between you.

“Yeah, I’ve been fine.” His answer is short, clipped, as if he’s not interested in small talk.

The coldness in his voice stings, and you can’t help but wonder if your sudden disappearance all those years ago had more of an impact on him than you realized. “It’s good to see you,” you offer, even though you’re not sure if it’s true anymore. “I’ve missed everyone.”

“Right.” He looks past you, as if already ready to leave. “Well, welcome back.”

That’s it? No questions, no catching up, just… this? You feel your chest tighten, the conversation feeling colder by the second. 

“Thanks,” you manage to say, trying not to let his aloofness get to you. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

Sunghoon shrugs, his expression unreadable. “Maybe.” 

With that, he steps past you, walking away without another word, leaving you standing there, feeling strangely hollow. You watch him go, the distance between you now more than just physical. It’s like there’s a wall where there used to be a connection, and you’re not sure how—or if—you’ll ever break through it again.

After your brief and awkward run-in with Sunghoon, you continue into the convenience store, your thoughts swirling. The encounter had left you unsettled—more than you wanted to admit. You’d expected maybe a little awkwardness after all these years, but not this cold, indifferent version of Sunghoon. The Sunghoon you remembered was always warm, protective, quick to tease you. Now, it felt like he couldn’t care less that you were back.

You absentmindedly browse the aisles, picking up a few snacks and bottled water, you replay the conversation in your head. Every curt response, every emotionless glance. Was he mad? Hurt? Or had he just moved on with his life so much that your return didn’t even register? You didn’t expect everything to fall back into place after so many years, but you certainly didn’t expect this.

You make your way to the counter, trying to push the thoughts away. Maybe it’s better not to overthink it. You’ve only been back for a day—things might take time to feel normal again. Or maybe you’ve just been gone too long.

The cashier rings up your items, and you pay before stepping back outside into the cool autumn air. The sky is a soft gray, and a slight breeze carries the scent of falling leaves, a reminder that some things, at least, remain the same.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

On your way back home, your mind drifts to everything that’s happened in the last few days. You’d been so focused on escaping Daniel, on putting distance between you and the life you’d built with him in the U.S., that you hadn’t really prepared yourself for how different everything might be back here. 

You shake your head. This wasn’t the time to spiral. One thing at a time.

When you reach your house, you feel a bit lighter, the familiarity of home giving you a sense of stability. As you open the door and step inside, your mother is in the living room, flipping through a magazine.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a smile, glancing up at you. “Did you get what you needed?”

“Yeah, just a few things,” you reply, holding up the bag. “Thought I’d take a walk.”

“Good. It’s nice to have you back home.” She pats the seat next to her on the couch, and you sit down, the warmth of the house and her presence comforting.

You try to focus on the moment, pushing aside the confusing encounter with Sunghoon for now. But it lingers in the back of your mind, like an unresolved thread, tugging at you no matter how hard you try to ignore it.

One day at a time, you remind yourself. You came back to Korea to heal. Whatever happens with Sunghoon—or anything else—will have to wait.

As you settle into the couch next to your mom, you finally let yourself relax a little. The warmth of the house, the quiet rhythm of the afternoon—it almost feels normal. But as you sit there, your mom glances at you with a casual smile, one that makes you wary.

“Oh, I forgot to mention,” she says, flipping the magazine shut. “Sunghoon and his parents are coming over for dinner tonight.”

You freeze, your fingers tightening slightly around the edge of the couch. “What?”

“Yeah,” your mom continues, completely unaware of the tension that suddenly grips you. “I’ve been meaning to invite them over, and I thought it’d be nice to have a little family dinner now that you’re back. You know how close we are with them.”

Your mind races. You had barely survived your run-in with Sunghoon at the convenience store, and now you were supposed to sit through an entire dinner with him? After how cold and distant he’d been? The thought alone makes your stomach twist.

“Tonight?” you ask, trying to keep your voice even.

“Mm-hmm,” your mom says, already getting up to head toward the kitchen. “I’m going to start prepping soon. It’ll be fun, don’t you think? Just like old times.”

Fun wasn’t exactly the word you’d use. “Mom, I—”

Before you can come up with an excuse, she’s already busy listing out dishes. “I was thinking we’d do something simple. Maybe some bulgogi, kimchi, a few side dishes. Oh, and that japchae you love. Sunghoon always liked that, too.”

You rub your temples, feeling the weight of the situation settle on your shoulders. There was no getting out of this. Your mom had clearly put thought into this dinner, and after being away for so long, you didn’t have the heart to tell her no.

“Yeah… sounds great,” you manage to say, though your enthusiasm is clearly lacking.

“Perfect! I’ll get started now. Why don’t you help me later with the table?” she says cheerfully, disappearing into the kitchen.

You sit there, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that in just a few hours, you’ll be sitting across from Sunghoon at dinner—awkward silences, tense glances, and all. You’d thought you could avoid him for a while, at least until you figured out how to talk to him, but it seems the universe had other plans.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Dinner time arrives faster than you’d hoped, and the pit in your stomach grows heavier with each passing minute. You spent the last hour helping your mom set the table, the familiar routine of laying out chopsticks and plates doing little to calm your nerves. Every time you hear a sound outside, your heart jumps, anticipating their arrival.

Finally, there’s a knock at the door, followed by your father’s cheerful voice as he greets Sunghoon and his parents. You force a steadying breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable as they step inside.

“Come in, come in,” your mom calls from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel as she moves to greet them.

You stay rooted by the table, trying not to let your unease show. When you glance up, your eyes meet Sunghoon’s. His face is impassive, and though his parents are all smiles, he barely acknowledges you beyond a polite nod.

“Y/N,” his mother beams, walking over to give you a warm hug. “It’s so wonderful to see you back home! You look so grown-up. How long has it been?”

You muster a smile as you hug her back. “It’s been a while, yeah. I’ve missed being here.”

Sunghoon’s dad shakes your hand with a broad smile. “You were always such a good kid. Your parents must be thrilled to have you back.”

You nod, trying to keep the conversation light as you exchange pleasantries with Sunghoon’s parents. Meanwhile, Sunghoon himself stands near the doorway, hands in his pockets, looking anywhere but at you. The coldness from earlier lingers between you, thick and uncomfortable.

Your mom ushers everyone to the dining table, her excitement palpable as she serves the food. “Let’s all sit! It’s so nice to have everyone together again.”

You find yourself seated across from Sunghoon, who remains quiet as the meal begins. His parents chat easily with your parents, exchanging updates on family matters and local gossip. You try to join in, but it’s hard to focus when you can feel Sunghoon’s presence directly in front of you, the weight of his silence pressing down.

At one point, his father glances at you, his smile genuine. “So, Y/N, how long are you planning to stay? I’m sure you’ve got a busy life back in the States, with the wedding and all.”

You freeze, the mention of the wedding making your chest tighten. You’d hoped it wouldn’t come up, but of course, it was inevitable. All eyes turn to you, and you feel Sunghoon’s gaze on you now, sharp and watchful.

“Oh… I’m not sure yet,” you answer, trying to keep your voice steady. “I haven’t really figured everything out.”

His mother looks over, curious. “Aren’t you worried about the wedding? It’s only a month away, right?”

You swallow hard, avoiding Sunghoon’s gaze, which feels like a dagger from across the table. “I… I decided to take some time off. You know, to clear my head before everything gets hectic.”

Your parents exchange glances but don’t press further, sensing that there’s more to the story than you’re letting on. Sunghoon’s mother, however, isn’t as easily deterred.

“Well, I’m sure Daniel’s missing you terribly,” she says with a laugh, clearly unaware of the tension her words cause. “You two must be so excited about the big day!”

You feel your throat tighten, your fingers gripping the edge of your plate. Before you can figure out how to respond, Sunghoon finally speaks.

“Maybe we should give Y/N a break,” he says, his tone low but unmistakably cold. “She just got back. No need to bombard her with questions about her wedding.”

Everyone goes silent for a moment, the shift in his tone catching them off guard. You glance up, surprised by his sudden defense of you, but when your eyes meet, his expression remains unreadable. 

His mother blinks, a bit flustered. “Oh, of course. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine,” you say quickly, trying to smooth over the tension. “Really. I just needed some time to think.”

Your father clears his throat, steering the conversation to a different topic, but the air remains thick with unspoken words. As dinner continues, you can’t help but glance at Sunghoon, who stays quiet for the rest of the meal, his face hard, distant.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re exhausted from keeping up the act. You want nothing more than to escape this table, to be anywhere but here, trapped between old memories and the unresolved tension that hangs over everything like a storm cloud.

Sunghoon may have spoken up for you, but the chill in his demeanor tells you everything you need to know—he hasn’t forgiven you for leaving, and this dinner is just the beginning of whatever complicated mess lies ahead.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

After dinner, the weight of the evening presses on your chest, and you feel the overwhelming need for space—somewhere away from the questions, the tension, and the relentless memories. Your parents chat casually in the living room with Sunghoon’s parents, but their laughter feels distant, like you’re no longer part of it. Excusing yourself quietly, you slip out of the house, letting the cool night air hit your skin as you walk down the quiet, familiar streets.

You find yourself heading to the park where you, Sunghoon, and Yeji used to play as kids. The old swings, the jungle gym, even the worn-out slide—it’s all still there, untouched by time. The memories of those carefree days flood back, bittersweet in their simplicity. You push down the ache in your chest and sit on one of the swings, the creak of the chains loud in the stillness of the night.

The moon hangs low, casting a pale glow over the empty park. You let yourself swing gently, the motion soothing, but your thoughts are anything but calm. Everything is swirling—Daniel, the wedding that won’t happen, your sudden return home, and the wall Sunghoon’s built between you since the moment you saw him again.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t hear him approach until he’s already there. The soft crunch of his footsteps on the gravel pulls you from your reverie, and you glance to your side, startled to see Sunghoon standing there, his expression unreadable. He doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at you for a moment before settling onto the swing next to you.

For a long while, neither of you speaks. The silence stretches between you, thick and uncomfortable, but somehow familiar—like the many quiet nights you’d spent together here as kids. Back then, silence was easy. Now, it’s loaded with everything you haven’t said, everything that’s changed.

Finally, you break the quiet, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d follow me.”

Sunghoon doesn’t look at you, his gaze fixed on the ground as he kicks at the dirt with his shoe. “I didn’t think I would either,” he admits, his voice flat. “But here I am.”

You glance at him from the corner of your eye, trying to gauge his mood. The coldness from earlier lingers in the air between you, but there’s something else too—something softer, more hesitant, like he’s struggling with whatever’s on his mind.

The gentle creak of the swings is the only sound for a few more moments, until he finally speaks again, his tone low and distant. “You left,” he says, his words simple but heavy. “No warning. No goodbyes.”

Your stomach twists at the accusation, but you can’t deny it. “I know,” you say quietly, gripping the chains of the swing a little tighter. “I’m sorry.”

He lets out a small, bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t exactly change anything, does it?”

You wince, the sharp edge in his voice cutting deeper than you expected. “Sunghoon, I didn’t mean to just disappear. Things were… complicated.”

“Complicated?” He finally turns to look at you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You couldn’t have called? Texted? I had to hear from my parents that you were moving to the U.S. And now, after years of nothing, you just show up out of nowhere, acting like everything’s fine?”

You bite your lip, the guilt weighing heavily on you. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I needed to get away. From everything. And then… life happened.”

Sunghoon shakes his head, his jaw clenching. “You’re always running away, Y/N. You did it back then, and now you’re doing it again. What happened with Daniel? Did he screw up, and now you’re back here hiding?”

His words strike a nerve, and you feel your chest tighten. “It’s not like that,” you say defensively, though a part of you wonders if he’s right. 

“Isn’t it?” he presses, his voice sharp. “You’re back here, pretending everything’s okay when clearly, it’s not.”

You turn away, the pain and frustration bubbling up inside you. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, Sunghoon. It’s not that simple.”

For a moment, he stays silent, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Then, he sighs, the anger seeming to drain out of him. “You’re right. I don’t know. Because you never told me.”

You look over at him, and for the first time since you’ve been back, you see something in his eyes that isn’t coldness or anger—just hurt. The years you’ve spent apart, the silence between you—it’s all built up into this wall that neither of you knows how to tear down.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this,” you whisper, the weight of the years catching up to you. “I just… I needed to figure things out. And now, I don’t know how to fix it.”

Sunghoon looks away, his expression softening, though the hurt still lingers. “Maybe it’s not about fixing things,” he says quietly. “Maybe it’s just about being honest. With me. With yourself.”

You don’t know how to respond, the truth of his words settling heavily on your chest. The silence returns, but this time it feels different—not as cold, not as distant. You both sit there, side by side, swinging gently in the cool night air, the echoes of your childhood swirling around you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The walk back home from the park is quiet, but it’s a different kind of silence now—less charged, more reflective. Sunghoon walks beside you, his hands in his pockets, and though neither of you speaks, there’s a tentative sense of peace settling between you.

The night air feels lighter as you near your house, and you glance over at him, wondering if this fragile understanding between you will last. Just as you’re about to say something, you hear it—a voice calling your name from across the street. 

“Y/N!”

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat at the sound of Daniel’s voice. It’s impossible. He shouldn’t be here. Slowly, you turn, and there he is, standing under a streetlight, his face a mixture of desperation and determination.

“Y/N, wait!” he calls again, hurrying toward you, his voice strained with urgency.

You can feel your blood run cold as he approaches. Sunghoon stiffens beside you, his gaze hardening the moment he sees Daniel. You swallow, taking an instinctive step back, every muscle in your body tensing as the man you’d left behind in the U.S. closes the distance between you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you manage, your voice shaking with equal parts disbelief and anger.

Daniel’s eyes are pleading, his hands reaching out like he’s trying to reel you back in. “I came to find you. To explain everything. I messed up, Y/N, but we can fix this. You can’t just run away like this.”

Sunghoon moves slightly closer to you, his presence a shield as you stand frozen, trying to process the surreal scene unfolding in front of you. The front door to your house swings open, and your parents step out, concern etched across their faces. They must have heard the commotion from inside.

“Y/N? What’s going on out here?” your mother asks, her gaze moving between you, Daniel, and Sunghoon. Your father follows, frowning deeply as he takes in the scene.

Daniel seems to seize the moment, stepping toward you again. “I made a mistake, okay? I know I hurt you, but we can work this out. We were so close to the wedding, Y/N. Don’t throw it all away because of one mistake.”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of the betrayal crashing down on you all over again. Your mother’s eyes widen as she glances between the two of you. “What… mistake?” she asks slowly, her voice tight with worry.

You don’t want to say it. You don’t want to admit it in front of your parents, in front of Sunghoon, but the truth is too heavy to keep inside any longer. You take a deep breath, your voice trembling as the words finally spill out.

“He cheated,” you say, your voice breaking slightly. “With someone else. That’s why I left.”

The air seems to freeze around you. Your mother gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. Your father’s expression hardens, his eyes narrowing as he stares at Daniel. And Sunghoon… Sunghoon’s fists clench at his sides, the barely restrained anger radiating off him in waves.

“How dare you?” your father’s voice is like steel, cold and furious. “How dare you come here after what you’ve done?”

Daniel takes a step back, looking genuinely shaken by the fury directed at him. “It was a mistake,” he insists, his voice desperate. “It didn’t mean anything. I love Y/N, and we’re supposed to be getting married. I just—I want to fix things.”

Your mother, usually calm and collected, is trembling with emotion. “You think you can fix this?” she demands, her voice rising. “After what you’ve done to her? After breaking her heart like this?”

You feel Sunghoon’s hand on your arm, a silent gesture of support as everything unfolds around you. His voice is low, but every word drips with barely controlled fury. “You think you can just show up here and make everything better? She doesn’t need you anymore. Get lost.”

“Stay out of this. It’s none of your business.” Daniel tells sunghoon, his jaw clenching at the sight of him pleading for forgiveness.

Daniel looks between you and your parents, his panic growing. “Y/N, please,” he pleads. “We’ve been through so much together. You can’t just-

Your father steps forward now, his voice firm and filled with authority. “Get off my property,” he says, his eyes narrowing as he stares down Daniel. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Daniel looks panicked, his desperation clear as he looks at you one last time. “Y/N—”

“Go,” you say quietly, your voice steady despite the turmoil in your heart. “Just… go.”

Sunghoon is still fuming beside you, but he doesn’t move. He waits, fists clenched, as Daniel hesitates for a moment longer before finally turning and walking back down the street. His footsteps fade into the night, leaving behind an unbearable silence.

Your parents stand by the door, your mother’s hand on your father’s arm as they watch you carefully. Sunghoon stands stiffly beside you, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

“I’m so sorry you had to find out like this,” you murmur, mostly to Sunghoon. He turns to look at you, his expression softening ever so slightly. There’s still anger in his eyes, but beneath it, you see something else—concern, hurt, maybe even guilt for not knowing sooner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s no accusation in his tone. Just quiet frustration and sadness.

You swallow hard, the weight of everything finally hitting you. “I didn’t want anyone to know,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just… I couldn’t.”

Sunghoon’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he finally lets out a slow breath. He doesn’t say anything, but the tension between you begins to ease. Slowly, the weight on your chest starts to lift, even if only a little.

As the tense moment begins to settle, your parents usher everyone back inside, their expressions a mix of concern and disbelief. Sunghoon follows you quietly, his usual confident demeanor replaced by a somber silence. Inside, the atmosphere is heavy with unspoken words and lingering shock from Daniel's unexpected visit.

Your mother offers tea, her hands trembling slightly as she pours, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in the midst of the chaos. Sunghoon remains quiet, his eyes fixed on his tea as he sits opposite you at the kitchen table. The air feels charged with unresolved tension, each passing second stretching the fragile peace thinner.

“I can’t believe he had the audacity to show up here,” your father finally breaks the silence, his voice rough with suppressed anger. “After what he did to you.”

You nod silently, unable to find the words to explain or justify Daniel’s actions. The betrayal still feels fresh, the wound reopened by his sudden appearance.

Sunghoon finally speaks, his voice calm but tinged with an edge you can’t quite place. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His eyes meet yours, searching for answers. “You could have… I could have helped.”

You swallow hard, the guilt weighing heavily on you. “I didn’t want to burden anyone,” you admit quietly. “And I didn’t want you to hate me.”

Sunghoon’s expression softens slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features. “I could never hate you,” he says softly, his gaze unwavering. “But I hate seeing you hurt.”

Your heart clenches at his words, a mixture of relief and sadness washing over you. “I’m sorry,” is all you manage to say, the weight of your emotions threatening to spill over.

Your mother places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering silent comfort. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to apologize,” she says softly, her eyes filled with maternal concern. “We’re just glad you’re home now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spill over, and you let out a shaky breath. “I just… I needed to come back,” you admit, the truth finally surfacing. “Everything fell apart, and I didn’t know where else to go.”

Sunghoon reaches across the table, his hand hesitating for a moment before gently covering yours. His touch is warm and reassuring, grounding you in the midst of turmoil. “You’re home now,” he says quietly, his voice steady. “And we’re here for you.”

You nod gratefully, overwhelmed by the support of your family and the unexpected comfort from Sunghoon. Despite everything, a sense of relief washes over you—the first glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, you can begin to heal.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The evening wears on, the tension gradually easing as conversations shift from the shock of Daniel’s visit to lighter topics. Your parents share stories of neighbors and friends, trying to lighten the mood, while Sunghoon remains by your side, a silent presence that speaks volumes.

As the night draws to a close, you find yourself standing at the front door with Sunghoon, the faint glow of streetlights casting shadows around you. He looks at you, his eyes soft with unspoken understanding.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, breaking the silence between you. “For everything.”

Sunghoon offers a small smile, his hand brushing yours briefly. “You don’t have to thank me,” he replies gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

You take a deep breath, the weight on your shoulders a little lighter than before. “I think I’m going to be,” you admit, a tentative smile tugging at your lips.

Sunghoon’s smile widens slightly, a hint of relief in his eyes. “Good,” he says softly. “And if you ever need anything… I’m just a phone call away.. I’m also right next door.”

With a small smile, he turns to leave, and you watch him disappear into his house, a sense of gratitude filling your heart. As you close the door behind you and lean against it, you realize that while things may still be uncertain, you’re not facing them alone anymore. And for now, that’s enough.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Over the next few weeks, life began to settle into a routine, the shock of your sudden return starting to fade into the background. Each day, you found yourself easing back into the rhythm of your old life in ways you hadn’t expected. It was strange at first, being in your childhood home again, but soon it began to feel familiar—comforting, even. The late-night conversations with your mom, your dad’s predictable quips over breakfast, the peaceful quiet of your small neighborhood.

And then, there was Sunghoon.

At first, things between you remained cautious and quiet, both of you still navigating the unfamiliar territory of this new chapter in your lives. But bit by bit, as the days passed, the invisible walls that had sprung up between you began to crumble.

It started small. A casual conversation as you bumped into each other outside, a shared glance when you both found yourselves at the convenience store at the same time. Each interaction felt like a tentative step back toward something you thought was lost.

You had always been able to talk to Sunghoon so easily, and it wasn’t long before the old rhythm between you began to resurface. The awkward tension that had once hung over you melted away, replaced by the comfortable ease you’d always shared. Whether it was a quick coffee at the café you used to frequent as teenagers, or the impromptu walks around the neighborhood, it felt like the years apart had never happened. The quiet moments spent together became familiar again, and with them came a warmth you hadn’t realized you missed.

One afternoon, you were both sitting in the park where you used to spend hours as kids, watching the leaves fall as autumn began to set in. Sunghoon glanced over at you, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Remember when we used to race to see who could swing the highest?” he asked, his tone light but nostalgic.

You laughed, nodding as memories of your childhood flooded back. “You always won. I swear you had superpowers or something.”

He chuckled softly, his gaze shifting to the old swingset. “I wasn’t that fast. You were just slow.”

You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Says the guy who fell off the monkey bars twice trying to impress Yeji.”

Sunghoon winced dramatically, rubbing the back of his neck as if the memory still stung. “Yeah, well… not one of my finer moments.”

Moments like these became more frequent. The playful banter, the shared laughs, the easy way you slipped back into each other’s lives—it all felt natural, as if no time had passed. And with each passing day, the bond between you grew stronger, echoing the closeness you had once shared as children.

Some days, you’d find yourselves sitting on the porch steps of your house, talking until the sun dipped below the horizon. Other days, you’d meet up for late-night snacks at the convenience store, a habit that reminded you of your carefree teenage days.

But it wasn’t just about the nostalgia or the familiarity. There was something deeper now, something unspoken but present in the way he looked at you or the way his gaze lingered a little longer than before. It was subtle, but undeniable.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

One evening, as you both sat under the stars in your backyard, Sunghoon turned to you, his expression thoughtful. “It’s weird, isn’t it?” he said quietly.

You looked at him, curious. “What is?”

He hesitated for a moment, then shrugged lightly. “How everything changes but somehow stays the same.”

You knew what he meant. The years had changed both of you, but sitting there with him, it felt like you were slipping back into the simplicity of what you had before—before life got complicated, before you’d left, before everything.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But in a good way.”

He smiled at that, his gaze meeting yours for a brief, charged moment. “In a good way,” he repeated quietly.

And just like that, the past weeks had brought you closer to him again. It felt like the Sunghoon you knew—your childhood best friend—was back in your life, but with something more layered beneath the surface now. The bond you shared had always been special, but as the days passed, you began to realize it wasn’t just about the past. It was about the present, about where you were both headed next.

Little by little, it felt like old times, but it also felt like something new was beginning to bloom between you. Something you weren’t ready to name yet, but couldn’t deny.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Sunghoon had always been good at hiding his feelings. Through all the years of friendship, he kept his crush buried deep, tucked away in the corners of his heart. It was easier that way. You had always been oblivious to it, lost in your own world of school, dreams, and later, the whirlwind of your life in the U.S. But now, with you back in his life after years apart, those old, buried feelings were starting to resurface, no matter how hard he tried to keep them at bay.

He remembered high school all too well. You were both juniors, sitting together at the school library late into the evening, pretending to study but really just talking about everything and nothing. He’d watch you as you rambled on about whatever topic had captured your interest that day, completely unaware of the way his gaze would linger on your face, his heart doing that stupid fluttering thing whenever you laughed.

He could still recall one particular moment as clear as day. You had been struggling with an essay, the stress getting to you, and Sunghoon had tried to help. You’d glanced up at him, frustration in your eyes, and he’d frozen. For a second, he swore his heart had stopped altogether. You were wearing his jacket that day because you’d forgotten yours at home, and he couldn’t focus on anything but how right it looked on you. How much he wanted to tell you that you could keep it forever.

But instead, he’d just shrugged, offering a teasing, “Maybe you’re overthinking it. It’s not a love letter or anything.”

You had thrown your pencil at him, rolling your eyes. “Thanks for the help, genius,” you’d muttered with a laugh, completely oblivious to the way his heart had been racing just from sitting so close to you.

And that was how it always was. You, perfectly unaware. Him, painfully aware.

Now, as he spent more time with you, it was like those feelings had never left. They’d just been waiting, buried but not forgotten, and the longer you were back, the harder it became to ignore them. He found himself watching you again, the way he had back in high school—only this time, it felt different. You were different. More grown, more guarded, but still the same girl he’d fallen for all those years ago.

The late-night walks, the quiet conversations under the stars, the way you leaned on him like you used to—all of it was stirring something in him. He tried to tell himself it was just nostalgia, that he was just getting caught up in the past, but the truth was, it was more than that.

It was the way you smiled when you caught him off guard, the way your laughter sounded like home, the way you instinctively reached for him whenever you needed comfort. It all felt too familiar, too easy, and too real.

One evening, as you both sat on the porch steps of your house, watching the sunset, Sunghoon glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You were talking about something from work, your voice soft, but he wasn’t really listening. His mind was somewhere else—stuck on the way you looked in the fading light, like the girl he’d spent all of high school silently pining over.

It hit him then, harder than he expected, that those feelings hadn’t gone anywhere. Not really. He had just buried them because he’d thought he had to. But now, sitting here with you again, laughing like you always did, he wondered if maybe those feelings never really had a chance to fade.

“Sunghoon?” you asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Huh?” He blinked, trying to focus on what you were saying.

“You okay?” You tilted your head, giving him that look you always did when you could tell something was off.

“Yeah, just spaced out,” he lied, offering a small smile.

You didn’t push, but you gave him a soft smile in return, nudging him playfully. “You’re not very good at pretending to listen.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

But as you laughed and went on with your story, Sunghoon couldn’t stop the thoughts racing through his mind. How long could he keep pretending that nothing had changed? That his heart wasn’t pulling him back to the same place it had always been?

It was different now, though. You weren’t just the girl he’d fallen for in high school. You were the woman who had been through heartbreak, who had returned home looking for something familiar, something safe. And despite everything, Sunghoon realized that he still wanted to be that for you. He wanted to be the person you turned to—not just as a friend, but maybe something more.

But the question remained, did you see him that way, or would you always just see the boy next door, your childhood best friend?

His feelings had always been intense—he knew that much. But what he didn’t expect was how overwhelming they’d become now that you were back in his life. It wasn’t just nostalgia or some fleeting crush he could brush off. No, this ran deeper, more complicated than he was willing to admit. Every time he was near you, his heart ached with the weight of everything he’d kept hidden for so long.

And that’s why he started avoiding you.

It wasn’t something he planned, but he couldn’t help it. The more time you spent together, the harder it became to act like everything was normal. Like he wasn’t on the verge of telling you exactly how he felt, of confessing that these feelings had never gone away. But how could he? You’d just come out of one of the worst situations imaginable, and Sunghoon knew you needed time to heal. The last thing he wanted was to complicate things with his feelings, especially when you were clearly not ready for it.

So he pulled back.

It started with small things—canceled plans, excuses about being busy with work, avoiding your messages for a little longer than usual. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he also couldn’t keep pretending that everything was fine. Every time he saw you, he felt like he was standing on the edge of something he wasn’t ready for, and he knew you weren’t either.

Yeji noticed first.

“You’ve been acting weird,” she said one evening as they grabbed coffee together. She leaned forward, narrowing her eyes at him. “What’s going on?”

Sunghoon shrugged, avoiding her gaze as he sipped his drink. “Nothing. Just busy.”

Yeji scoffed. “Busy, huh? Is that why you’ve been dodging Y/N’s calls too?”

He flinched at that, his grip tightening on his cup. Of course, Yeji would notice. She was sharp like that—always had been.

“You’re being ridiculous, you know,” she continued, crossing her arms. “She’s your best friend. She just got back after everything with Daniel, and you’re avoiding her? What’s your problem?”

Sunghoon sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m not avoiding her,” he mumbled, though he knew it wasn’t true.

Yeji raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Really? Because that’s what it looks like from where I’m standing.”

He stayed quiet, unsure of how to explain what was going on in his head. How could he possibly tell Yeji the truth when he hadn’t even come to terms with it himself?

“Look, I get it,” Yeji said after a moment, her voice softening. “She’s been through a lot, and maybe you think giving her space is the right thing to do. But Sunghoon, she needs you. You two have always been there for each other. What’s really going on?”

Sunghoon glanced up at her, his chest tight with the weight of what he was about to say. “It’s just… complicated.”

Yeji’s eyes widened slightly, as if realizing something. “Oh my God. You still like her, don’t you?”

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and undeniable. Sunghoon didn’t answer at first, but the look on his face must’ve said enough because Yeji leaned back in her chair, her expression softening.

“You never got over her,” she said quietly.

Sunghoon sighed again, feeling like the dam he’d been holding back was starting to crack. “No,” he admitted, his voice low. “I never did.”

Yeji didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching him with a mixture of sympathy and understanding. Finally, she leaned forward, her tone gentle but firm. “You know you’re gonna have to deal with this, right? Avoiding her isn’t going to make it go away.”

“I know,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But it’s not that simple. She’s been through so much, Yeji. She doesn’t need me coming in and messing everything up with how I feel.”

“She needs her best friend,” Yeji countered. “You’re not going to mess anything up by being there for her.”

“But it’s more than that,” Sunghoon said, his voice tight. “I don’t just want to be her best friend, Yeji. I want… more. And if I tell her that now, when she’s still dealing with everything from Daniel, what if I make things worse?”

Yeji leaned back, crossing her arms again as she considered his words. “Sunghoon,” she said after a beat, her voice gentle but serious, “you’re not going to ruin anything by being honest with her. But you’re right—she’s not ready for something like that right now. So maybe you don’t need to tell her everything just yet. But avoiding her? That’s not the answer either.”

Sunghoon frowned, knowing she was right but still feeling conflicted. “I just… I don’t want to hurt her,” he said quietly.

“I know,” Yeji said softly. “But trust me, you’re hurting her more by pulling away.”

Sunghoon looked down at his hands, feeling the weight of her words settle over him. He didn’t want to hurt you, not after everything you’d already been through. But how could he face you when he could barely manage to keep his feelings under control?

“I just need some time,” he said, almost to himself. “To figure this out.”

Yeji sighed but nodded, though her expression remained concerned. “Just don’t take too long. She’s going to notice something’s off.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly, knowing deep down that Yeji was right. But for now, he wasn’t sure what else to do. All he knew was that the feelings he had buried for so long were clawing their way back to the surface, and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t ignore them forever. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few days felt different. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something was off with Sunghoon. He was distant—more than usual. Whenever you tried to hang out like old times, he found an excuse. Too busy with work, too tired from errands, too anything but here.

At first, you tried to ignore it. Maybe he really was busy. Maybe it was just a phase. After all, coming back had changed a lot, for everyone. But the more it happened, the more unsettled you became. You weren’t used to Sunghoon being like this, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d done something wrong.

The morning after your last attempt to make plans, you found yourself sitting at the kitchen table, picking at breakfast while your mind raced. Your mom was bustling around, wiping the counters and humming softly to herself.

“You look distracted, honey,” she said, glancing over at you. “Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just thinking.”

Your mom raised an eyebrow, giving you that knowing look she always did when she didn’t quite believe you. “Does this have anything to do with why Sunghoon’s been acting so strange?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Come on, Y/N,” she said, turning to face you with a small smile. “I’ve known that boy his whole life. He’s always been so close to you, but lately, he’s been keeping his distance. Something’s bothering him, and I think it might have to do with you.”

Your heart sank at her words, and suddenly, all the little things you’d been trying to ignore came rushing to the surface. You hadn’t imagined it. Sunghoon was pulling away.

“I don’t know, Mom,” you mumbled, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “He’s been busy, I guess.”

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “but busy doesn’t explain why he avoids you whenever you come over. I don’t think this is about work.”

You stared down at your plate, your chest tightening. The thought of losing Sunghoon’s presence after everything that had happened made your stomach twist. He’d always been your rock—the one person who understood you better than anyone. If he was pulling away, what did that mean?

“I’ll talk to him,” you said softly, more to yourself than to your mom.

“Good,” your mom said with a warm smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing a good conversation can’t fix.”

But as you made your way upstairs to get ready, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t going to be that simple. Sunghoon wasn’t the type to pull away without a reason, and you had a sinking suspicion that whatever was going on, it wasn’t something he’d be willing to talk about easily.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting outside on the porch, staring off into the distance as you tried to make sense of it all. The crisp autumn air brushed against your skin, the quiet neighborhood almost too peaceful for the storm of emotions swirling inside you. The longer you thought about it, the more frustrated you became.

Sunghoon wasn’t just distant—he was avoiding you. And that hurt more than you were willing to admit. You’d been through so much already, and now it felt like you were losing the one person who’d always been there for you.

Determined not to let this go on any longer, you decided to confront him. You grabbed your phone, quickly typing out a message.

Hey, are you free to talk?

You stared at the screen, waiting for a reply, your heart pounding in your chest. Minutes passed, and just when you thought he might not respond, your phone buzzed.

Busy today. Maybe another time?

Your frustration flared. You knew he wasn’t that busy. This was just another excuse.

Without thinking, you typed back.

Sunghoon, what’s going on? You’ve been avoiding me for days. Did I do something wrong?

You hit send, your fingers trembling slightly. The silence that followed felt suffocating, each passing second adding to the weight in your chest.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his reply came.

No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just… dealing with some stuff. I’ll explain later.

You frowned at the vague response, feeling even more confused. What kind of “stuff” was he dealing with that he couldn’t even talk to you about it? You started typing another message but stopped, realizing that pushing him wouldn’t help. If he wasn’t ready to talk, there wasn’t much you could do.

But that didn’t make the sting of his distance any less painful.

You put your phone down, staring out at the quiet street once more. Sunghoon was hiding something—something big. And no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself it wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was connected to you.

For the rest of the day, your mind wouldn’t let it go. What could possibly make him pull away like this? You had no idea what was going on with him, but one thing was clear: you needed to get to the bottom of it. Because the longer this went on, the more it felt like you were losing him. And you couldn’t bear the thought of that, not now—not after everything you’d been through.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The next few days were a blur of half-hearted attempts to distract yourself, but Sunghoon’s distance lingered at the back of your mind. Each time you saw him, whether by chance or at family gatherings, it felt like there was this invisible wall between you two, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

He wasn’t avoiding you entirely, but something was definitely off. The easy-going conversations you used to have were now strained. He barely looked at you, his responses shorter, and you couldn’t help but notice how he always found some reason to leave early.

It was Saturday afternoon when Yeji invited you out for coffee. She’d noticed the tension too, but unlike you, she wasn’t willing to let it slide.

“So, you and Sunghoon,” she said as soon as you sat down, not even bothering with small talk. “What’s going on?”

You blinked, surprised by her directness. “What do you mean?”

Yeji gave you a look, crossing her arms. “You know exactly what I mean, Y/N. He’s been acting weird since you got back, and don’t even try to tell me you haven’t noticed.”

You sighed, staring down at your drink. “I don’t know. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he just says he’s dealing with stuff. He won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Yeji tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in thought. “You think it’s about Daniel?” she asks you, trying to allude to something more.

The mention of his name made your chest tighten. “I don’t know. Maybe? He was weird even before he knew about Daniel.”

“Hmm.” Yeji leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. “That boy’s always been complicated, but I’ve never seen him this off with you. It’s like he’s avoiding something—something big.”

You frowned, feeling even more lost. “But what? What could it be? I didn’t do anything.”

Yeji tapped her fingers on the table, her gaze thoughtful. “Maybe it’s not about something you did. Maybe it’s something he’s dealing with.”

You shook your head. “He won’t talk to me about it. He just keeps saying he’s busy, but it’s more than that. I can feel it.”

“Of course it’s more than that,” Yeji said, her voice firm. “Sunghoon’s always been a terrible liar. He’s hiding something, and my guess? It has something to do with how he feels about you.”

You blinked, staring at her in confusion. “What? What do you mean?”

Yeji sighed, giving you a soft smile. “Come on, Y/N. You really think he’s just your childhood best friend? That boy has been in love with you since high school.”

Your stomach dropped at her words. “No, he hasn’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “We’re just friends. He’s never—”

“He’s never told you,” Yeji finished for you, her tone gentle but serious. “But trust me, it’s been there. He’s always liked you, but he never acted on it because he didn’t want to ruin what you two had. And now, with everything you’ve been through, he’s probably even more scared of saying something.”

You stared at her, stunned into silence. The idea of Sunghoon having feelings for you—real feelings—had never crossed your mind. Sure, you’d always been close, but he’d never given you any reason to think it was more than that. Right?

Yeji sighed, reaching across the table to pat your hand. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But you need to talk to him. He’s avoiding you because he doesn’t know how to handle what he’s feeling. And im truly so sick of him moping around like a puppy.

You swallowed hard, your mind racing. Was it true? Had Sunghoon really been hiding his feelings all this time? And if he had, what did that mean for you? You couldn’t even begin to process the possibility, not after everything that had happened with Daniel. You weren’t ready for this—couldn’t be.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, feeling overwhelmed. “I don’t even know if I’m ready to talk about it.”

Yeji gave you a sympathetic smile. “I get it. But Sunghoon is your best friend, and if you don’t at least clear the air, this is just going to keep getting worse. Whatever happens, you both deserve to be honest with each other.”

You nodded slowly, knowing deep down that she was right. Avoiding the situation wasn’t helping anyone. If Sunghoon was really struggling with his feelings, the least you could do was try to talk to him about it. But even as you told yourself that, a knot of anxiety settled in your chest.

Because if Sunghoon really had feelings for you, this was going to change everything. And after everything you’d already been through, you weren’t sure if you were ready for more change.

But one thing was clear: something had to give. You couldn’t keep pretending like everything was normal when it so clearly wasn’t.

“I’ll talk to him,” you finally said, your voice quiet but determined.

Yeji smiled, squeezing your hand. “Good. You’ll figure it out.”

But as you sat there, sipping your coffee and trying to keep your thoughts from spiraling, you couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

That night, you found yourself staring at your phone, Sunghoon’s contact pulled up, your thumb hovering over the call button. The weight of Yeji’s words hung heavy in your mind—he’s always liked you—and the longer you thought about it, the more restless you became.

What if it was true? What if Sunghoon had been hiding his feelings all this time? The idea seemed impossible, but then again, you’d never imagined him pulling away like this either.

With a frustrated sigh, you locked your phone and tossed it onto the bed, running your hands through your hair. You couldn’t just call him out of the blue. It had to be face-to-face. You had to know for sure, but the thought of confronting him sent a surge of anxiety through your chest. What would you even say?

Unable to stand the suffocating silence of your room, you grabbed your jacket and slipped out of the house, your feet carrying you in a familiar direction. The night air was cool against your skin as you headed toward the park—the same park where you, Sunghoon, and Yeji had spent countless afternoons as kids.

It was quiet when you arrived, the swing set creaking gently in the breeze. You hesitated for a moment before sitting down on one of the swings, the chains groaning under your weight as you gently kicked at the dirt beneath your feet. Memories of your childhood came flooding back—the three of you racing to the swings, fighting over who could go higher, laughing until your sides hurt.

And then, Sunghoon’s face flashed in your mind—his shy smile, his teasing words, the way he’d always looked out for you, even when you didn’t realize it. Could Yeji really be right? Had he been feeling this way for years?

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching until someone sat down on the swing next to you. You looked up, startled, only to see Sunghoon, his expression unreadable as he stared ahead.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy and awkward. You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or more anxious that he’d found you here.

“I didn’t think you’d be out this late,” Sunghoon finally said, his voice quiet.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you replied, your fingers curling around the swing’s chain. “Needed some air.”

He nodded, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. “Me too.”

You wanted to ask him—needed to—but the words felt stuck in your throat. Instead, you sat there, side by side in silence, the tension between you growing thicker with each passing second.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. “Sunghoon, what’s going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away. His jaw clenched, his hands gripping the chains of his swing tightly. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost strained. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the cryptic response. “Is it me?” you asked, turning to face him fully. “Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes snapped to yours, wide and alarmed. “No, Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” you pressed, frustration bubbling to the surface. “You’ve been acting so strange ever since I came back. I don’t get it.”

Sunghoon sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground as he raked a hand through his hair. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain it to me,” you said, your voice soft but pleading. “Please, Sunghoon. I don’t want to lose you.”

His expression tightened at your words, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything. You could see the internal battle playing out behind his eyes, the conflict he’d been hiding so well suddenly visible. When he finally spoke, his voice was raw, vulnerable in a way you’d never heard before.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and your heart clenched in your chest. “You’re not hurting me. You’re my best friend, Sunghoon. Whatever it is, we can get through it.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “That’s the problem. I don’t know if we can.”

You frowned, confusion swirling in your mind. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon’s eyes met yours, and for the first time, you saw the weight of everything he’d been holding back. His next words came out in a rush, as if he’d been holding them in for far too long.

“I’ve always liked you, Y/N. More than just a friend. Since high school, maybe even before then. But I never told you because… because I didn’t want to mess things up. And then you left, and I thought I’d gotten over it. But now that you’re back…” He trailed off, his voice catching in his throat. “It’s like all those feelings just came rushing back, and I don’t know what to do with them. I can’t act on them, not after everything you’ve been through with Daniel. It’s not fair to you.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, Sunghoon’s confession hanging in the air between you like a fragile thread. You’d always thought of him as your best friend, the one constant in your life that had never changed. But now… now everything was different.

“Sunghoon…” you whispered, at a loss for words.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, standing up from the swing as if he couldn’t bear to stay any longer. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll—”

“No,” you said, cutting him off, standing up too. “Don’t run away. Not again.”

He looked at you, his expression torn, and for a moment, you saw the vulnerability in his eyes—the fear of rejection, the fear of losing you completely. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart.

“Sunghoon, I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “I never knew you felt that way.”

“I didn’t want you to know,” he said quietly. “But now… now I can’t hide it anymore.”

The silence between you was deafening, the weight of his confession settling heavily on your shoulders. You didn’t know how to respond, not after everything you’d been through. But one thing was certain: nothing between you and Sunghoon would ever be the same again.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The days that followed felt surreal. Sunghoon’s confession lingered in your mind like a persistent echo, one that you couldn’t quite shake off. Every time you replayed his words, your chest tightened, and your thoughts spiraled into confusion. You didn’t know how to feel—about him, about your past, or even about yourself. You spent so many years thinking of Sunghoon as your constant, your rock, your best friend, and now all of that felt uncertain.

Sunghoon avoided you even more than before, making sure he was never in the same place as you for too long. At first, you gave him space, understanding that things were complicated. But the distance started to gnaw at you. He’d always been the one person you could rely on, and now, when you needed him most, he was pulling away.

It was Yeji who finally brought it up, sitting across from you at the café as she studied your downcast expression.

“You look like you’ve been hit by a truck,” she said bluntly, sipping her iced coffee.

You sighed, pushing your own drink around the table without taking a sip. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” she said flatly. “And let me guess, it has something to do with Sunghoon?”

You didn’t answer right away, but the slight flicker in your eyes was enough for Yeji to know she was right. She groaned, leaning forward.

“I swear, if you two don’t figure this out, I’m going to lock you in a room until you do.”

You managed a weak smile at her joke, but it faded quickly. “It’s complicated, Yeji.”

“Everything is complicated with you two. But the longer you let this sit, the worse it’s going to get.”

“I don’t even know what to say to him,” you admitted, sinking into your seat. “He told me how he feels, but… I’m not ready for that. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”

Yeji studied you carefully, her expression softening. “You’ve been through a lot with Daniel. No one expects you to be ready for something like this. But Sunghoon is… well, he’s not Daniel. You know he’d never hurt you.”

Your throat tightened at her words. “That’s what makes it worse. I don’t want to hurt him either.”

“You won’t,” Yeji said confidently. “Not if you’re honest with him. He knows what you’ve been through, and he’ll understand. But avoiding each other like this isn’t helping anyone.”

You rubbed your temples, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. “I don’t know, Yeji. It’s just… too much.”

She reached across the table, placing her hand on top of yours. “Take it one step at a time. Sunghoon’s not going anywhere. He just needs to know where you stand.”

You nodded, knowing deep down that she was right. The tension between you and Sunghoon had become unbearable, and if you didn’t talk to him soon, it would only get worse.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in front of Sunghoon’s house, your heart racing. You hadn’t planned to come here, but your feet had carried you here almost on instinct. His confession had thrown everything into chaos, and you needed to clear the air, for both your sakes.

You took a deep breath before knocking on the door. The wait felt excruciatingly long, but finally, the door opened to reveal Sunghoon, his expression shifting from surprise to something more guarded.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice hesitant. “What are you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you,” you replied, trying to steady your voice. “Can we?”

He looked uncertain for a moment, but eventually, he stepped aside, letting you in. You followed him to the living room, the air between you heavy with unspoken words.

Sunghoon stood by the window, his hands stuffed into his pockets, avoiding your gaze. “What is it?”

You took a seat on the couch, feeling your pulse quicken. “About what you told me the other night…”

He tensed, his shoulders stiffening. “You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”

“No,” you interrupted, your voice firmer than you intended. “You don’t get it. You can’t just drop something like that on me and then disappear, Sunghoon. We’ve been friends for years. I deserve to know what’s going on with you.”

Sunghoon sighed, finally turning to face you. “I was trying to give you space. I didn’t want to make things harder for you after everything with Daniel.”

“I appreciate that,” you said, your voice softening. “But shutting me out isn’t helping either of us.”

There was a long pause as Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling with his own emotions. “I didn’t know what else to do, Y/N. I’ve been holding this in for so long, and now that it’s out, I don’t know how to act around you.”

“You don’t have to act any differently,” you said quietly. “But you also can’t avoid me forever.”

Sunghoon stared at you, a conflicted look in his eyes. “I just… I don’t want to make things worse. I know you’re not ready for… anything like this, and I’m not going to push you. But it’s hard, Y/N. It’s hard being around you and pretending like everything is the same when I’ve been feeling this way for so long.”

You looked down, your heart heavy with guilt. “I don’t want to lose you, Sunghoon. You’re one of the most important people in my life, and I can’t imagine things without you. But I’m not ready for more, not after everything that happened.”

“I know,” Sunghoon said softly, his expression pained. “And I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for you, Y/N. But that doesn’t make it any easier.”

The vulnerability in his voice hit you hard, and for the first time, you saw just how deep his feelings ran. He wasn’t asking for anything from you—he was just being honest, and it was tearing him apart. You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of it all crashing down on you.

“I’m sorry, Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I wish things were different.”

He shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault. I just… I just needed you to know.”

The silence stretched between you, both of you caught in the painful reality of the situation. Neither of you knew what the future held, but for now, all you could do was take it one step at a time.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The days passed in an uneasy quiet, the tension between you and Sunghoon lingering like an unspoken secret. He no longer avoided you as much, but the once easy-going banter you shared felt stilted, weighed down by everything unsaid. You couldn’t stop thinking about his confession. It felt like a constant reminder of how complicated everything had become. No matter how much you tried to focus on anything else, Sunghoon’s words echoed in your mind, making it impossible to pretend like things were back to normal.

One evening, as you sat in your room, you heard a knock on the door. Your mom poked her head in, smiling warmly.

“Dinner’s ready, sweetheart,” she said, her eyes soft with concern. “You okay?”

You plastered on a smile, nodding. “Yeah, just lost in thought.”

She gave you a knowing look. “You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Is everything okay between you and Sunghoon?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Why do you ask?”

“You two have always been inseparable, but things seem… different now. You can talk to me, you know.”

You bit your lip, unsure of how much to say. You hadn’t told your parents anything about Sunghoon’s confession, and you weren’t sure you could without making things more complicated. “It’s nothing, Mom. We’re fine. Just adjusting, I guess.”

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. “Alright, but you know we’re here for you. If you need to talk about anything—about Sunghoon or anything else—you can always come to us.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of her words settle over you. She meant well, but the last thing you wanted was to burden your parents with the tangled mess of your emotions.

After dinner, you found yourself wandering outside, needing fresh air to clear your head. Without thinking, you walked down the familiar path to the park, your steps slow and deliberate. The quiet of the evening felt comforting, a stark contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling inside you. You found your way back to the swings, sitting down as you often did when you needed to think.

As you rocked gently back and forth, your mind drifted back to high school. Back to the carefree days when things between you, Sunghoon, and Yeji had been simple. The memories were vivid—late nights studying together, hanging out at the park after school, and how Sunghoon had always been there, a steady presence by your side. Back then, you’d never questioned his loyalty, never thought twice about the way he always seemed to put you first. But now, looking back, you wondered how you hadn’t noticed the way he looked at you, the quiet way his feelings had been growing all along.

You remembered one particular moment, just before you left for the U.S. Sunghoon had walked you home after a late study session, the two of you chatting about nothing in particular. It had been a chilly night, and he’d offered you his jacket without hesitation. You’d laughed, teased him for being too polite, but his expression had been serious, almost sad. At the time, you hadn’t thought much of it, chalking it up to the fact that you’d be leaving soon. But now, in hindsight, you realized it had been more than that. Sunghoon had been struggling with his feelings, even back then, and you’d been completely oblivious.

A pang of guilt hit you as you thought about how long he must’ve held everything inside, how hard it must’ve been for him to see you leave, knowing you didn’t feel the same way. And now, after everything that had happened with Daniel, Sunghoon was still there, waiting for you in the background, even though you couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Why does everything have to be so complicated?” you muttered to yourself, staring up at the darkening sky.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in more memories, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Sunghoon.

“You’re here again,” he said, his voice quiet but familiar as he sat on the swing next to you.

“I needed to think,” you replied softly, your eyes still focused on the ground. “This place… it helps.”

Sunghoon nodded, his gaze drifting up toward the sky. “Yeah. It’s always been like that, hasn’t it?”

A comfortable silence fell between you, though it was laced with the tension of everything unsaid. For a moment, it felt like old times—just the two of you, sitting together in quiet understanding. But you knew things were different now, no matter how much you wanted to pretend otherwise.

Finally, you broke the silence, your voice tentative. “Sunghoon… I know things have been weird lately. And I hate it.”

He didn’t respond right away, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. “I know.”

“I just—” You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

Sunghoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want that either, Y/N. But I don’t know how to make it less weird. I can’t just forget what I said.”

“I’m not asking you to,” you said quickly. “But maybe we can figure this out. I need you, Sunghoon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He looked at you, his expression conflicted. “I need you too. But that’s the problem.”

Your heart clenched at his words. You could see the struggle in his eyes—the fight between his feelings for you and his desire to protect you from more pain. It wasn’t fair to him, and you knew it. But you didn’t know how to fix it, how to make things go back to the way they were.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the guilt heavy in your chest.

Sunghoon shook his head, his voice soft but firm. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. None of this is.”

You sat there in silence, the distance between you feeling both vast and fragile. There was so much you wanted to say, so much you needed to figure out. But for now, all you could do was sit side by side, both of you trying to navigate the complicated mess of feelings that had always been there, just beneath the surface.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Weeks passed, and the uneasy tension that once lingered between you and Sunghoon gradually began to fade. Little by little, things started to feel like they were falling back into place, though not quite the same as before. The awkward silences became comfortable again, and the shared moments between you started to carry a different weight.

You found yourself paying closer attention to him in ways you never had before. The small gestures—how he’d bring you coffee without asking, or how he’d go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable—began to take on a deeper meaning. Sunghoon wasn’t just being your best friend; he was being your support, your constant, the one person who had always been there for you, even when you didn’t realize how much you needed him.

It was in those moments that your feelings began to shift. At first, you tried to brush them off, telling yourself it was just gratitude, that you were still recovering from everything with Daniel. But the more time you spent with Sunghoon, the harder it became to ignore the warmth that bloomed in your chest every time he smiled at you, or the way your heart raced whenever your hands accidentally brushed.

One evening, the two of you sat in your backyard, a quiet evening settling in around you. Sunghoon had insisted on helping your father with a project earlier, and afterward, he stayed for dinner, as he often did. Now, the two of you were sitting on the porch, the cool breeze gently rustling the leaves above you.

Sunghoon leaned back, his eyes drifting to the sky. “You’ve been quiet tonight,” he said softly, glancing at you. “Everything okay?”

You smiled at the concern in his voice, feeling that familiar warmth spread through you again. “Yeah, I’m just… thinking.”

He turned slightly to face you, raising an eyebrow. “About what?”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your feelings into words. You weren’t ready to say everything out loud yet, but you couldn’t shake the overwhelming sense of gratitude and admiration you felt for him. “Just about how things have changed… and how much you’ve been there for me.”

Sunghoon’s gaze softened, and he shrugged casually, though you could see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes. “That’s what friends do, right?”

You nodded, but the word “friends” felt wrong now. There was something more between you, something that had been growing quietly in the background, and it was starting to become impossible to deny. You weren’t sure when it had happened, or maybe it had always been there, buried beneath the surface. But what you did know was that Sunghoon wasn’t just your friend anymore.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

More time passed and you found yourself seeking him out more, spending more time with him than anyone else. You began to crave his company, his quiet strength, and the way he seemed to understand you without needing to ask. And it wasn’t just the grand gestures that made your heart flutter—it was the small things. The way he always checked if you were okay, how he listened when you talked, really listened, and how he’d make sure you weren’t alone whenever you seemed down.

It was these little acts of kindness, the quiet care he showed you, that made your feelings for him grow into something undeniable.

One evening, the two of you found yourselves at the park again, sitting on the swings like you used to as kids. The sky was a deep shade of pink and orange, the sun setting in the distance. Sunghoon was talking about something—work, maybe—but you weren’t really listening. Instead, you were focused on him, on the way his hair fell into his eyes, the way his voice softened when he talked to you.

You realized, suddenly and overwhelmingly, that you cared for him in a way you hadn’t cared for anyone else. It wasn’t just that Sunghoon had been there for you, but the way he had always, quietly and without expectation, supported you, no matter what. He didn’t ask for anything in return, didn’t push you for answers or confessions. He just… cared.

And that’s when you knew. You had feelings for Sunghoon. They had been there all along, waiting for you to realize it.

Sunghoon must have noticed the look on your face because he stopped mid-sentence, turning to you with a curious expression. “What is it?”

You blinked, startled out of your thoughts. “What?”

“You’re staring at me,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You felt your cheeks heat up, quickly looking away. “I wasn’t.”

He laughed softly, but didn’t push further. Instead, he leaned back on the swing, the smile fading as a comfortable silence settled between you. You wanted to say something, to tell him what was on your mind, but the words wouldn’t come. Not yet.

For now, you were content just being here with him, the weight of your growing feelings a secret you weren’t quite ready to share. But you knew, deep down, that it wouldn’t be long before those feelings couldn’t be hidden any longer.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

It was a cozy Friday evening, and the house felt unusually quiet. Your parents and Sunghoon’s parents had decided to take a weekend trip together, leaving the two of you alone for the night. You had taken advantage of the opportunity to host a movie night, and the living room was filled with the inviting smell of popcorn and the soft glow of fairy lights strung around the room.

You settled onto the couch, a soft blanket draped over your legs, while Sunghoon reclined next to you, the space between you filled with a warm tension. The movie played in the background, but you found it hard to focus on the screen. Instead, your gaze kept drifting to him—the way the light danced in his hair, the casual way he laughed at the jokes, and the ease of his presence next to you.

As the minutes turned into hours, you felt the atmosphere shift. Each time you glanced at him, your heart raced a little more. You couldn’t ignore the way your feelings for him had transformed over the last few weeks, the moments you had shared sparking something deeper than friendship.

Finally, during a quieter moment in the movie, you turned to him, heart pounding. “Sunghoon,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. He turned his head, eyebrows raised in curiosity, his expression inviting you to continue.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should voice what had been on your mind for so long. But the warmth of his gaze, the way he was looking at you, made the decision feel inevitable. “I need to tell you something,” you began, feeling your heart race.

He tilted his head slightly, encouraging you. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us… and how I feel about you.” Your voice trembled slightly as you spoke, but you pressed on. “When I came back to Korea, everything felt so chaotic. But you… you were there for me in a way I didn’t expect. And the more time we spend together, the more I realize that I care about you, Sunghoon. A lot.”

His eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/N, I—”

Before he could respond, you continued, your heart pounding in your chest. “I know I’ve been through a lot, and I don’t want to rush anything. But I can’t pretend anymore. I have feelings for you—feelings that go beyond friendship. I want to explore this… whatever this is between us.”

A moment of silence stretched between you, filled with the weight of your confession. You could see the shock in his expression slowly melting into something softer, something hopeful.

“I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere. “I care about you too, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I didn’t know if you’d feel the same after everything that’s happened.”

Your heart soared at his words, relief flooding through you. “Really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded, a small smile spreading across his lips. “Really.”

In that moment, everything else faded away. You felt a magnetic pull between you, drawing you closer together. Without thinking, you leaned in, your heart racing as you closed the space between you.

Sunghoon met you halfway, his lips brushing against yours with a gentle hesitance that quickly melted into a deeper kiss. It was electric—filled with all the unspoken emotions you had both held back for so long. The world outside your living room ceased to exist, leaving only the warmth of his body and the rhythm of your hearts.

You melted into him, feeling the softness of the couch beneath you as he deepened the kiss, hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel the heat radiating between you, igniting something passionate and alive that you hadn’t anticipated.

You  moaned softly into Sunghoon's mouth, the sound fueling his desire even further. Breaking the kiss for air, you stared into each other's eyes, both breathless and flushed. "Your room," Sunghoon whispered hoarsely. "Let's go to your room."

Hand in hand, you made your way to your childhood bedroom, a space that held countless memories of your friendship. The room was a sanctuary, adorned with pictures and trinkets from your shared adventures. Sunghoon closed the door behind you, sealing your private world from the outside.

You leaned against the door, heart racing as he approached her. He gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your soft cheeks. "I've dreamed of this moment for so long," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.Your lips met again, this time with a hunger that burned through your restraint. Sunghoon's hands roamed over your body, exploring the curves and contours of your hips and waist. His fingers played with the hem of your tshirt, as if he was silently asking permission to take it off of you. You nod, his hands wasting no time in peeking the fabric to reveal the lacy black bra you wore beneath. 

Your breath caught in your throat as his fingertips traced the delicate lace, sending shivers down her spine.

With deft fingers, Sunghoon unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. You gasp at the cold air that suddenly hits you. He gazed at them with reverence, his eyes dark with desire. Leaning down, he took one nipple into his mouth, suckling gently while his thumb teased the other.  You arch your back at the sensation, moaning softly as waves of pleasure rippled through you.

"You're so beautiful, Y/N," Sunghoon whispered against you skin. "I want to make you feel so good."

Feeling a sudden burst of eagerness, your hands found their way to Sunghoon's belt, unbuckling it with trembling fingers. You undid his jeans and slid your hand inside, wrapping your fingers around his hardening cock through his boxers. Sunghoon gasped, his breath hot against your neck, placing a small, wet kiss there as you began to stroke him. “S-shit baby.”

You slip your hand out, guiding Sunghoon towards your bed, you pushed him gently onto the mattress, positions now reversed. You straddled his waist, grinding your hips against his, feeling his erection press against your clothed cunt. His hands roamed over your thighs, inching upwards, exploring the soft skin beneath her shorts that had been driving him insane since the moment he stepped foot inside your house. 

With a gentle tug, you lifted your hips as he removed your shorts as well as the cute black panties that matched your bra, revealing your bare pussy, glistening with desire. Sunghoon's eyes darkened further as he took in the sight, his breath coming in short gasps. "You're so wet, Y/N. want to taste you so bad."

“later, you say as you slide down his body, positioning yourself between his legs. You leaned forward, your long hair cascading over your shoulders, as you began to kiss and lick the length of his shaft. Sunghoon groaned, his hands gripping the bedsheets as you took him deep into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head of his cock. “Feels so good baby”

Sunghoon couldn't hold back any longer. He sat up, positioning you on the bed, and parted your thighs with gentle kisses. His tongue traced the outer folds of your pussy, teasing your sensitive skin. You squirmed with pleasure,  hips bucking against his face as he found your clit and began to suckle it with relentless passion.

"Oh, Sunghoon!" you cried out,  voice hoarse with desire. "Fuck don't stop, please!"

Sunghoon continued his relentless assault on your clit, sending you spiraling towards an intense orgasm “tastes so fucking good, all wet just for me.” Your body trembled,  crying out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you. Sunghoon didn't let up, continuing to lick and suck until you were a quivering mess, your body drenched in sweat and satisfaction.

After a few moments to recover, you reached for Sunghoon, pulling him up to kiss him in a more hungry kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, and it drove you wild with desire all over again. "I want you inside me," you whispered between kisses. "Now."

Sunghoon needed no further encouragement. He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock throbbing with anticipation. With one smooth thrust, he filled you completely, eliciting a gasp from your parted lips. you moved in perfect harmony, your bodies slick with sweat as ge fucked you with raw, unbridled passion.

"Harder, baby" you pleaded, nails digging into his shoulders. "fuck me harder.” Sunghoon obliged, pounding into you with abandon, his hips slamming against yours. 

The headboard banged against the wall, marking the rhythm of your frantic coupling. your cries filled the room as you rode the waves of pleasure,  orgasm building to an intense crescendo.

“Fuck baby your pussys clenching so hard around my cock, im so fucking close.” You could feel his thrusts becoming sloppier, your own orgasm approaching just a quick. “gonna c-cum hoonie.” He couldn't hold back any longer. With a final, powerful thrust, he came deep inside you, his hot cum painting your walls white. 

He collapsed onto the bed, bodies entwined, both breathing heavily as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through each of you. “If I would’ve known you’d fuck me that good maybe I would’ve given you a chance much earlier.” You tell him out of breath, eliciting a chuckle from him. 

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The soft morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a gentle glow in your room. You stirred awake, feeling warmth enveloping you. Sunghoon was nestled beside you, his arm draped protectively around your waist, holding you close. The memory of the night before flooded your mind—the kiss, the confessions, and the spark of something beautiful igniting between you.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of contentment that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. But as you settled deeper into his embrace, a sudden noise from downstairs jolted you from your blissful reverie.

“Y/N, I think your parents are back,” Sunghoon murmured sleepily, rubbing his eyes as he became more alert.

Your heart raced as the reality of the situation hit you. “Oh fuck, They’re not supposed to be back yet” you whispered, panic rising in your chest.

Sunghoon’s eyes widened, and he immediately sat up, glancing around the room. “We need to hurry”

You both scrambled to untangle yourselves from the sheets, adrenaline coursing through you. As you hopped out of bed, you glanced at each other, both of you laughing nervously at the chaotic situation. There was an unspoken agreement—you needed to act casual, like nothing unusual had happened.

“Okay, you get dressed first,” you said, tossing him a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that had been strewn on the floor. “I’ll throw on something too.”

You quickly changed into a comfy hoodie and leggings, your heart still racing as you heard your parents’ voices growing louder downstairs. The last thing you wanted was for them to walk in on you two after the night you just shared.

“Are you ready?” Sunghoon asked, his hair slightly tousled as he pulled on the T-shirt. He looked adorable, and it took everything in you not to linger on how cute he was at that moment.

“Almost!” you replied, giving your reflection a quick check in the mirror before moving to the door. “Let’s go!”

You both rushed down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible, your hearts pounding in your chests. As you reached the bottom step, you could hear your parents chatting in the kitchen, their voices bright and cheerful.

“Y/N, are you home?” your mom called out just as you and Sunghoon entered the living room, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Yeah, Mom! Just hanging out!” you replied, forcing a casual tone, hoping it didn’t sound too forced.

You glanced over at Sunghoon, who was giving you a small, reassuring smile, but you could see the nervousness in his eyes. You both moved into the kitchen, where your parents were unpacking bags, completely oblivious to the whirlwind of emotions that had just taken place in your room.

“Hey, Sunghoon! you’re here,” your dad said, giving him a friendly nod. “Did you keep Y/N entertained while we were gone?”

“Of course!” Sunghoon replied, a little too quickly, his eyes darting to you for a brief moment. “We had a fun movie night.”

You nodded enthusiastically, trying to match his energy. “Yeah, just a normal hangout. Nothing out of the ordinary,” you added, unable to hide the hint of a nervous laugh.

Your mom chuckled, giving you both a knowing look. “You two have always been inseparable. I’m glad you’re spending time together.”

You felt your cheeks flush, and you shot Sunghoon a sidelong glance. He was trying hard not to smile, and it was contagious.

“Did you enjoy the trip?” you asked, hoping to shift the conversation away from the night before.

Your parents launched into stories about their travels, and as you listened, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at Sunghoon. He caught your eye, and you both exchanged a small smile that felt electric, reminding you of the connection you had just started to explore.

As breakfast was prepared, the atmosphere felt relaxed and easy, but your heart raced at the thought of your parents unknowingly interrupting something that had felt so significant. You couldn’t help but feel giddy about the night you had shared, and the prospect of what lay ahead for you and Sunghoon, even as the morning unfolded like any other day.

After breakfast, your parents retreated to the living room to relax, leaving you and Sunghoon to clean up the kitchen. The atmosphere felt light, almost like the calm before a storm as you both exchanged playful banter, your earlier connection still fresh in your minds.

Later that afternoon, you heard a familiar voice ring out from the front door. “Y/N! I’m here!” Yeji called as she burst into the house, her energy immediately filling the space.

You couldn’t help but smile, excitement bubbling up at the sight of your childhood best friend. “Yeji! You’re back!” you exclaimed, rushing to greet her with a hug.

As you pulled away, she looked at you intently, her gaze sweeping over you from head to toe. “You’re glowing,  What’s going on with you?” she asked, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Your cheeks flushed slightly, and you tried to play it cool. “What are you talking about?” you said, attempting to sound nonchalant, but you felt a giddy warmth spread through you.

“Oh, come on” Yeji pressed, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “You look so happy. Are you and sunghoon fianlly together?”

You felt your heart race at the thought. “It’s… complicated,” you said, a shy smile creeping onto your face as you remembered the kiss, the way he made you feel, and the warmth that had lingered long after. “We’re just figuring things out.”

“Just figuring things out?” Yeji exclaimed, her voice rising in disbelief. “Y/N, you’re practically radiating happiness, That sounds like a classic ‘we’re together’ situation to me now spill bitch.”

You laughed, unable to suppress the joy bubbling inside you. “I promise, it’s nothing like that! We’re just friends hanging out—well, more than friends, but still… you know.” You were stumbling over your words, and you could feel the warmth of your blush creeping down your neck.

Yeji’s eyes widened, her expression a mix of disbelief and excitement. “Oh my god, did you fuck?” she pressed, bouncing slightly on her heels, clearly thrilled at the prospect.

You don’t say anything, except you give her a knowing look that told her everything she needs to know. 

Yeji’s smile grew wider, her excitement infectious. “Fucking finally. I thought you idiots would never figure it out” She grabbed your shoulders, her eyes gleaming. “You have to tell me everything.”

Just then, Sunghoon appeared in the doorway, glancing between the two of you, a bemused smile on his face. “What’s going on in here?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe with an amused expression.

Yeji turned to him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, just catching up on the latest drama. Y/N and I were just talking about how she’s glowing and—”

You quickly interjected, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. “We were just talking about… uh, my skincare routine!”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “Your skincare routine, huh? Sounds fascinating.”

“Shut up,” you shot back playfully, laughter spilling out. But deep down, you felt a thrill at the thought of your feelings for him becoming more public, shared between friends.

Yeji wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, a teasing smile on her face.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. As Sunghoon joined the conversation, you felt a warmth in your heart, realizing how much you had missed this—how much you had missed him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

You and Sunghoon settled into a rhythm of secrecy and excitement. Every stolen moment felt like a thrilling adventure, each shared smile charged with an energy that left you both breathless. You spent evenings hanging out at parks, grabbing snacks at your favorite convenience store, and reliving old memories. But as your bond deepened, so did the intensity of your feelings.

You both agreed to keep things under wraps for a little while longer, wanting to navigate this new chapter without the pressure of parental expectations looming over you. But sneaking around only added to the thrill, and soon, it became second nature.

One Friday evening, you decided to go on a real date. After all, you had managed to keep things low-key, but you were ready to enjoy being together without the pressure of hiding. You picked a charming little café downtown, a spot you both loved, and as the sun began to set, the place glowed with a warm, inviting ambiance.

You shared a dessert and exchanged playful banter, the world outside fading away. Sunghoon’s laughter felt like music, and each lingering glance seemed to whisper promises of something beautiful. The night was perfect—until it was time to go home.

As you walked down the quiet street, the cool night air wrapping around you, you felt a surge of affection. You turned to Sunghoon, smiling softly, and without thinking, you pulled him into a warm embrace. It felt so right, being close to him, your heart racing at the proximity.

But just as you pulled away, a familiar voice broke the silence. “Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

Startled, you turned to see your parents standing just a few feet away, a mix of surprise and amusement on their faces. Sunghoon’s eyes widened, and you felt your heart drop. “Uh… hey!” you stammered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

Your mom stepped forward, a knowing smile spreading across her face. “We always knew you two would end up together,” she said, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow playfully.

Sunghoon chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, well, this is a bit unexpected.”

Your dad grinned, stepping beside your mom. “You think we wouldn’t notice the way you two look at each other? You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you?”

You exchanged glances with Sunghoon, a mix of embarrassment and relief flooding through you. “Okay, maybe a little,” you admitted, unable to hide your smile.

“Just a little?” Yeji suddenly appeared from behind your parents, her arms crossed and an amused look on her face. “I could have told you they were dating from the way they looked at each other!”

Your heart raced, but seeing the warmth in your parents’ eyes eased your nerves. “We just wanted to take our time, you know?” you said, looking up at Sunghoon.

Your mom laughed softly. “You kids and your secrets. We were starting to wonder when you would finally tell us!”

Sunghoon relaxed, a smile spreading across his face. “Sorry for keeping it from you, but we wanted to figure things out first.”

Your dad patted Sunghoon on the back. “You’re a good kid. We’re just happy to see you both happy. Just remember to keep it respectful, alright?”

You nodded vigorously, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. As you stood there, surrounded by family and friends, you realized how wonderful it felt to share your happiness openly.

Sunghoon looked at you, his expression softening. “Well, I guess the secret’s out,” he said, smiling broadly.

You chuckled, leaning against him, warmth spreading through you. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

As you walked home together, hand in hand, you knew this was just the beginning of a new chapter in your lives—one filled with love, laughter, and the promise of many more adventures to come.

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[girlsoutlate]

the lead up to price sharing his birdie with his men, and badly hidden curiousity on their behalf

i tried just writing the meeting but i found it difficult so i wrote this as a little inbetween piece, enjoy

fem reader described as having hair that can be tied up, slight age gap (older price) THE BOYS ARE NOSYYY

the 141 can be considered nosy by nature, but have the excuse of it being their job. some are more open than others about their home life. ghost seemed to live quite a solitary life whereas gaz and soap had shared family pictures. nevertheless, there was some idea of each others lives outside of the military. but one person stayed an enigma: captain john price. maybe because it felt strange to know so much about their superior as well as role model. price had never shown an aversion to talking about his life, but the 141 had never asked- shocking to say the least. they all had their own theories. gaz thought he used to be married but it ended in a disastrous divorce- yet there was no trace of any mrs price. soap guessed he liked the company of pretty women, if you catch his drift. but never heard any boasting from his captain. ghost concluded he was similar to him, perhaps with a few more friends and a family, there was no reason to think otherwise. yet none of them guessed there was gorgeous thing like you john was all to eager to return home to each night, until now.

the 141 had been seeing signs of a woman close to their captain for about a month now. it started with a faint hint of fruity perfume under his cigar musk and aftershave, that was out of place on such a man. gaz pointed it out, making the rest of the 141 laugh. however it was forgotten about by the next hour, no one thought anymore of it. then the next day a hairband around prices wrist. he must have forgotten to take it off after you taught him how to plait your hair the night before. it was a work in progress. the simple black band was noticed by ghost while exchanging paperwork. he brushed it off despite finding it a little odd. the first piece of solid evidence they find of the captains mystery woman was his lockscreen.

they were in their common room, taking a break from the never ending pile of paperwork. squashed on the small couches they were joking about the new recruits, which was one of their many favourite topics to complain about. the hum of fluorescent lights was drowned out by their banter. mugs with dregs of coffee in them and a half empty pack of fags sat on the table. while talking, prices phone lit up with a notification. soap, the nosy shite, immediately noticed his lockscreen. a picture of a woman with her back to the camera: gossamer hair and skin that glowed in the sunny view she was admiring. with an eyebrow quirked, soap turned to his captain and asked too casually "whose tha'?". without missing a beat price replied smugly "the missus". for once soap shut up, and looked at the others with his mouth slightly agape, checking if they heard the same thing. ghost let out a grunt which they now knew to be a laugh. gaz's eyes were growing wider by the second. price seemed done and returned to whatever the previous subject was, which had quickly become forgotten. at that point gaz, soap and ghost were a pack of dogs with a bone. who was prices pretty birdie?

over the next month or so the boys had heightened interest on their captains home life. of course they cared about the details of the captains weekend plans, did he fancy going to that quite pricey restaurant that had opened up? it was necessary for them to ask the source of his dinner that evening, did he know the recipe? the competitive streak in them was made apparent sooner rather than later, all fighting to get more important information than the others. even though, if anything was discovered it was immediately shared. one day gaz stumbled upon gold.

he was in prices office, relatively spacious with a small couch in the corner and a bookcase in another. whilst chatting about an upcoming meeting, a buzz emanated from prices phone. before gaz could read the caller id price snatched it up and grumbled "won't be a minute". thinking it was a work call, gaz was surprised to hear his captains voice suddenly becoming as soft as it could. turning to face the window johns small smile wasn't missed as he murmured "hi love, how are ya?". staying still and quiet as to not get kicked out, gaz listened to the chirpy voice that could be faintly heard through the tinny phone. with a content sigh john replied "steak for dinner? tha's perfect". a wide grin crept on to gaz's face. a giggle and another sentence could be heard before price replied "of course i'll pick tha' up for dessert" both of you let out a small laugh when john continued "are ya tryna kill me?". just when gaz thought this couldn't get any better, price fondly said to you "i'll see ya at home sweet'eart". as he hung up and turned back around the sergeant found it near impossible to dampen his grin.

john had told you of his boys' detective work, which he considered shoddy at best. as you were flitting around the kitchen that evening, you were bemused at your boyfriends recount of the day. when he described his sergeants face after the phonecall you let out a loud laugh, bouncing off the tiles of your cosy kitchen. john sat by the table watching you busy yourself by the counter, as he nursed his beer he couldn't help but take in your appearance. tendrils of loose hair curled around your ears, escaping from your loose ponytail. although hidden by one of his tops and comfy jogging bottoms, he could make out the slopes and peaks of your body that he was all too familiar with. as you turned to face him, he was drawn closer to the twinkling reflection of light in your eyes. before he realised it he was towering over you, eyes raking over your form with the beer abandoned on the table. you looked up at him, hand on your hip. "john are you even listening to me?" you asked, face comically blank. "sorry doll, what was that?" he huskily replied, slightly dazed. "pass me a can. please?" you asked, adding a awfully fake cheesy smile at the end.

pressing a kiss to your lips as an apology, he was about to pull away before you deepened it. pulling his barrel of a body against yours, his mouth slightly opened. the bitter taste of beer and cigars mingled with sweet cider from yours. pulling back, slightly breathless, johns blown pupils met yours. "yer so gorgeous, don't know wha' i did to deserve ya" he muttered, the closeness of his voice making you slightly weak. as his calloused thumb brushed over your warm cheek you coyly commented "what would your men think if they saw you like this?". for a moment john faltered, thinking about how they would feel if they saw him being intimate with someone like you- let alone how he would feel. his flushed cheeks were the subject of your teasing for the rest of that night.

while eating your dinner you brought up the 141 since you were already talking about them. you knew your boyfriend felt a responsibility to look after his girl, despite you being more than capable. whenever his deployment was brought up it was usually by him. telling you where he went and anything that he thought might interest you, from an aspect of their culture to a cute cat he saw. sometimes he brought trinkets back. but never about what he had done, or what he had ordered to be done. so the members of the 141 were more characters in your head than real people. you knew their names and basic personality but that was all. so when you asked "how much do they know about me?" it was rather tentative. john paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, thinking. shaking his head he replied decidedly "not much, besides y' mine. they're nosy fuckers, practically begged me to show them a proper picture of you". you hummed in response, finishing your mouthful of food. quietly you muttered "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they knew more". letting the question hang in the air, you picked up the last forkful of food which went down your throat in a lump. john was silent, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

he considered your proposal, if his girl was concerned then it was worth thinking about. plainly he asked "why?", trusting you to be open. "well, you spend a lot of time with them- i'm not jealous. its just that.. you trust these men with your life, i don't even know what they look like." pausing for a second you continued "its more for my sake than theirs. if i knew them past their names it would make it, well, easier to be apart from you for so long. i know you can look after yourself, but i- i'm always gonna worry about you." with that said, the air in the kitchen grew heavier. you kept your eyes glued on to your plate as johns gaze from across the table burned in to you.

the captain realised that you wanted to know more, for your wellbeing rather than the 141's. now, he realised it was quite a simple conclusion. he imagined his girl cold and alone in an empty house, no idea where he was or who he was with, for weeks at a time. five minute phone calls spent trying to find better service than speaking to each other. no idea who john was fighting or how difficult it was. no clue about who he was trusting his life with in your absence. how on earth could he not expect you to have an issue with it? he kicked himself, he made his sweetheart worry. he could have prevented it and he didn't, too focused on a successful mission than the only thing he wanted to return home for. price knew this had to change, or risk isolating you even more than he does because of his job.

john stood up, chair screeching on the kitchen tiles while he sighed "fuckin 'ell i'm an idiot". gathering both plates and putting them on the counter, he ran a hand across his face and turned to you. just as you took a breath to take it all back, john interrupted you: "you should meet 'em". you cocked your head to the side, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "whats changed your mind?" you enquired, curious about the sudden change. replying half-heartedly, still deep in thought "just thinkin' about you here on your own, worryin'". taking a deep breath he stated "i'll talk to them about it. you". walking up to him with a small smile on your face you leant up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, beard tickling your chin. "thankyou john" you whispered. reaching up to get the plates the rumble of his voice deep in his chest saying "anythin' for you doll" reverberated against your back.

as he turned to get the dessert out of the fridge the most pressing question yet entered his mind: how would he ask the 141 to meet his birdie- without them going mad?

thankyou for reading :))) each like, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated. this is more for context to the main meeting that has been stuck in my head for ages. if you liked this keep an eyes out!!!

heyyy guys long time no see. had a crazy two weeks, found out my boyfriend was practically cheating on me for the last month of our relationship and he already has a new girlfriend after two weeks. apart from that im grand. sorry it took so long for me to post properly again, thankyou for being patient

[yougavememyopia]

Suggestive 18+, sub yandere as always.

Clumsy yandere, who constantly looked at you with lovesick eyes. Following you everywhere and basically worshipping the ground you walked on. Every item that you touched was sacred, added to his little shrine. Every angle of you was a picture in his poorly made scrapbook.

He'd accidentally bump his drink into random nobodies while he was busy trying to get a sniff of your divine scent. Frustrated that his clumsiness led him to losing sight of your fleeting figure.

You tried your best to ignore him. The loud thud of him falling over objects or his small "oof" when he bumped into walls never went unnoticed by you.

He'd instinctively apologize to the inanimate articles and walk away awkwardly. Ashamed of the attention he drew to himself.

You finally decided to confront him, getting tired of watching him trip over his shoelaces and timidly fleeing the scene. "What's the matter with you? Why are you such a klutz?"

He had no idea how to answer that. It was as if he was cursed to be so uncordinated ever since he was born. He chuckled and shrugged you off with a joke about bad luck. Hand brushing against yours while you helped him up. He had never felt so warm— his cheeks flushed scarlet as a heat wave traveled through his body, building awkward sweat.

You didn't understand how you managed to make his knees buckle with your mere presence. He'd trip over nothing, ending up injured at your feet. Looking up at you with glistened eyes and a dumb smile. It took everything in you to not step on his pitiful face.

"Guess you could say... I, uh, fell for you?" His laughter triggered another eye roll from you. It was truly pathetic how he thought that he could win you over one day. After all, his luck was bad. Very, very bad.

He kept getting caught by you doing the most unhinged things. Sniffing your dirty laundry. Stealing your useless trash. Lurking around your place at strange times.

Denying the truth from you always got him nowhere, so he'd try to confess over and over of how much he loved the little things about you. Sounding incoherent as he stumbled and jumped between words.

"I just can't– s-staying away from you is like– I mean, I am so sorry for all the trouble I've caused you, master. N-no, wait, I... I didn't mean to say that–"

Loud drums of his heartbeat banged in his ear every time your eyes met. The angry look on your face making his stomach twist with glee. You were looking at him. Paying attention to him. He finally felt noticed.

“I didn't do anything terrible this time! Just stole your straw. Is that bad?" He'd say in an ashamed voice— head down, eyes studying the ground. His sweaty, shaky fingers fiddled with each other as he waited for your verdict.

You forced him to throw the object in the bin. He felt like a scolded puppy as you lectured him about his creepy behavior. Only if you knew the thoughts going on his head, you'd slap him without hesitation.

He had a detailed dairy about all the little things about you that he loved. Each physical and personality characteristic was intricated in unusually specific details. Of course, his terrible curse led him to accidentally lose it at your place the first time he broke in.

Not only did he get an injury collapsing on your floor— running away when he heard your security system— but he also exposed you to his most disturbing private thoughts.

Pages and pages of your name and doodled hearts. I love you's and perverted fantasies written all over. Scribbles of how he wanted to carve your name into his skin. Feel you inside his veins. Finally belong to you and only you~♡.

You were disgusted. Particularly grossed out (and a bit turned on) at all the sexual positions he wrote about. The shameless smut written like he had already experienced it. Most of it about rough punishment that made your mouth agape.

No matter how hard you tried to avoid him after that, he was always there. With a weary expression and a bruised body. His fearful gaze had changed to something cloudy and crazed. Like at any point, he would break.

The tension between you grew each day, and so you invited him over to talk. Feeling the need to do something about the lustful glances exchanged.

Then he did it again— ruined everything with his clumsiness. He brought over a drugged drink. Your favorite flavor with an addition of something that'll aid in kidnapping. Before he could hand you it over, he collapsed on you. The cup spilled and flooded the ground, turning the tiles slippery.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourself to be okay. Sighing relief as no weird cliché kissing moment happened. Instead, warm breaths fanned your thighs. The clumsy yandere faced with a sight he had only imagined.

Your smell flooded his nose, and his eyes shut in ecstasy. He felt as if this was the best thing that ever happened to him. Maybe his luck wasn't all that bad.

"I-I'm so sorry-" You could barely hear his muffle words, the vibration of his voice sending shivers right through you. Your thoughts unclear with the feeling of his mouth moving on your crotch. "S-so sorry."

"Nngh—" Your legs wrapped around his neck to hold him there. Hand reaching down to hold his head there, earning a small yelp from him. "You already made a fool of yourself. Use that mouth for something better and show me how sorry you are."

"T-thank you! Thank you so much. Please... please give me a chance to worship you like you deserve it!"

That was all he needed to stop hesitantkng and create a wet stain on the fabric of your front. Moaning each time his tongue felt a little bit of your private through the pjs. The grinding against his face making his pants feel tighter than ever. He never made a good stalker, but he sure did make the best toy.

[yawnderu]

cr: @ave661

Simon wasn't a stupid man. He always knew better, knew to look between the lines even when you tried your best to be deceiving. Even then, the pure rejection you showed to your newborn baby was something not even the best actress could hide. Refusing to hold her after she was born and fully shutting down on Simon, screaming at him whenever he tried to offer any sort of help and support, only getting worse if he ever tried to approach you while holding the baby.

Post-partum depression is no joke, Simon realized after doing his own research, only then realizing just how bad it can get after accidentally stumbling on article upon article of mothers getting to the point of harming their own child. You weren't like that— Simon liked to convince himself despite the growing pit of dread in his stomach, anxiety seeping out of every pore of his body when even months later you refused to hold or interact with the baby.

It all came crashing down after he came back from deployment, the nanny holding his daughter while soothing her with calm words, doing her best to console the crying infant despite the tears falling down her cheeks when she confessed to him that you're gone.

Gone without a trace, at first. Simon wasted no time using his connections to know where you were. Laswell was the most helpful, giving him all the details of the help center you were in, yet even then, Simon didn't reach out first in fear of messing up your progress, not wanting to add more stress to your situation when you were trying to get better.

Four years. For four years, Simon's life was divided in deployments and taking care of his daughter at home, never once thinking about moving on, always asking Laswell for updates— updates she was glad to give him using her own connections, wanting to give Simon some peace of mind even if it went against the rules.

“It's okay.” Simon reassured his daughter, his long sleeves wet with cola that she spilled from her little cup. His home was the complete opposite of the absolute hell he grew up in, not allowing himself to scream, hit, or take out his frustration on the little carbon copy of himself sitting on the couch.

“'M sorry, daddy.” Her sweet voice made the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile, planting a soft kiss on the top of her head, taking off his sweater and putting it away, wasting no time on grabbing a towel to clean up the now sticky mess of coke on the table.

“It's okay, love. Jus' don't tip it, 's gonna spill.” She gave him a small salute in understanding, a cheeky grin on her lips when she saw him holding in his laughter, knowing fully well she's copying him— as usual.

The doorbell ringing got Simon's full attention, giving his daughter one last look before he went to answer. His eyes widened slightly the moment he saw your shorter figure waiting for him, purposely making yourself smaller like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, a small folder held in your hands. You're both quiet for what seems like forever, the only sounds coming from your daughter in the living room, the TV displaying a kid's show Simon put on.

“I'm so so—” You don't even have the chance to finish your sentence before you're being pulled into a tight hug, Simon's burly arms wrapping around your body, every single second spent missing you, secretly hoping you'd come back one day crashes down on him the moment he feels your arms wrap around his waist, holding him as tight as possible, as if he'd disappear if you don't hold onto him for dear life.

“I got better.” You whisper into his ear, rubbing his back soothingly when he doesn't let go of you. Not yet— not when the love of his life is finally back after years. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder before his face goes back to burying in the crook of your neck, taking in the familiar scent.

It takes minutes for Simon to finally let go, hesitation clear in his actions as he looked down at you, keeping one hand on your waist in silent fear of you seeping through his fingers. The folder in your hand gets his attention, giving you a questioning look before you offer it to him, managing to give him a small smile of reassurance despite all the anxiety and fear.

“My psychotherapist wrote it. It's... just a paper that shows the progress I've made from her perspective.” You stand awkwardly as he reads the document, taking in every single word written by the woman who has been helping your for four long years. You can hear your daughter giggling at the TV show, only making the anxiety in your stomach grow more by the second.

To your surprise, Simon steps out of the way to allow you into the home he created, his safe haven. Nothing changed from the last time you were here, other than toys scattered all over the place, likely from Simon being too busy bonding with his daughter to even clean.

You can see the little girl sitting on the couch as you walk closer, her brown eyes fully focused on the screen until she hears something from behind her. She's so much bigger now, looking like a tiny carbon copy of Simon, down to the little skull-patterned pajamas she was wearing.

She turns around after seeing you from the corner of her eye, her little face lighting up into a toothy grin as she jumps from the couch, sprinting towards you as fast as her little legs allow her to.

“Mommy!” You crouch down to her height out of pure instinct, almost being knocked off balance when she crashes into you, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. The fact that Simon never stopped talking about you to her and kept your pictures warms your heart, being as delicate as possible as you hug her back.

“Y'look so pretty.” She has Simon's accent, making you let out a small laugh before looking down at her, cupping her cheek just to examine her features better.

“Thank you, sweet girl.” You're glad for the way she cuddles up to you again, not bothering to hide the tears falling down your cheeks at the sheer love displayed by the same girl you left four years ago. Your gaze drifts up to Simon, whose eyes are glossier than usual despite the fact that he's not shedding a tear. He gives you a small nod in acknowledgement, not daring to look away from the heartwarming scene in front of him.

“Daddy talks a lot about you.” She whispers into your ear, covering her mouth as if she's telling you the biggest secret ever. You giggle at the little gossiper, your warm hand running up and down the length of her hair.

“He does?” You whisper back, giving Simon a cheeky look at the admission, one of his thin eyebrows raising when he sees your daughter nod her head vigorously, giggling as she looks at Simon.

“Well, I'm sure he talks a lot about you too.” The pure forgiveness that comes from both of them drowns the guilt, if only for a short while.

“You're such a pretty princess.” Your arms wrap around her again, rocking her softly from side to side, allowing yourself to take in their love. It doesn't take long for Simon's resolve to falter, dropping to his knees and wrapping his burly arms around his girls protectively, planting a little kiss on your forehead.

Despite everything, there's no one else he'd rather spend the rest of his life with.

Dad!Ghost Masterlist

[qwimblenorrisstan]

To Be Known | Azriel x Reader

Summary: You’ve always been afraid to confess to Azriel about your feelings for him, but after a hookup gone wrong, everything begins falling apart, and he’s there to pick up the pieces.

Word Count: ~ 2.4k

Warnings: Drunk ppl, drunk fem reader, allusions to smut, std mentions, bloodwork (doctors), guy being an ahole + taking advantage of drunk reader, scars, angst to comfort

A/N: this request was so good (ty to anon!!), I feel like az always pairs really good with angst to comfort, anyways hope you enjoy<3 (also sorry for lack of posts recently I just had a math+science test back to back and have spent the past few days studying😭)

Requests are open!

Unlike the rest of your friend group, you weren’t special.

You weren’t a High Lord, Spymaster, General, High Lady, Seer, or any special title. You weren’t funny like Mor, witty like Amren, or even talented in much like all of your friends were.

But then again, like your mother had said, opposites always attract.

Maybe that was why had always had a small crush on the Spymaster who was withdrawn and secretive, the opposite of your friendly personality. You could befriend just about anyone, knowing their name, age, and at least a few background details on them in a few minutes, while Azriel was the exact opposite, getting his information on people through other ways.

With his job and his centuries of experience for two different High Lords, it was a wonder he didn’t already know about your crush on him. Maybe it was because, like everyone else, he was focused on the central characters in your friend group.

The three sisters and brothers. It was hard to overlook them, with all their achievements and accomplishments, not to mention the things they’d overcome and their pasts.

Tonight you were all out at Rita’s, Cassian telling awful jokes to Nesta as she rolled her eyes, playfully swatting him on the shoulder, Rhys and Feyre having a drinking competition, Azriel brooding somewhere in the corner, alone because of Elain visiting Autumn Court with Mor for “political purposes” even though everyone knew she wanted to see Lucien.

You were taking a sip of your drink, idly standing at the bar, elbows propped on the table as your eyes raked through the crowd, searching for someone who could offer a decent hookup. Drunk Fae stumbled about, laughing loudly with genuine joy that made your lips twitch up a bit, the music playing in the background also helping your mood as a cool breeze blew through the open area.

“Looking for someone?”

You choked on your drink, alcohol coming back up to sting your throat a second time before you swallowed it all backdown, one hand over your heart as you sighed in relief, looking at Azriel who’d somehow approached without you knowing.

“Mother above, Az, you scared the shit outta me.”

You replied, taking a few more breaths to calm down, turning to face him, back now against the bar table as the shadowsinger looked down at you, hair falling into his eyes in a boyish way that made you giggle as you tried to brush some behind his hair.

“Someone needs a haircut,”

You teased, and a hint of a smile graced his lips.

“I’ll make sure not to go to Mor this time.”

He said, grimacing for a moment at the memory of the awful haircut Mor had given him, insisting he needed it, only to butcher his beautiful dark locks. You could still remember how distraught he’d been after, looking like a puppy that had just been kicked.

“I could do it, my mom used to cut hair, taught me a thing or two,”

You offered with a little shrug, taking another sip of your drink, one you’d already refilled by now. Maybe twice. You couldn’t remember, all you knew was that the hangover in the morning would be brutal.

A chuckle from Azriel made you rub your thighs together as he shook his head in fond exasperation. He swallowed, almost nervously, odd for him, before speaking.

“Maybe next time, though I wouldn’t object if you-“

He was cut short by another male strolling up to you a tad bit too confidently, one arm going to the right of you on the bar table as his eyes met yours.

An old partner. Particularly a fuck-buddy.

The best solution for tonight, really, since Cauldron knows you weren’t bold enough to push anything with Azriel. He was a friend, nothing more, or at least you tried to convince yourself. He still hadn’t gotten over Elain, or you thought he hadn’t yet, and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship or making things awkward between the two of you because of your desires the the crush you’d kept secret for years.

Your fuck-buddy’s eyes met yours, and you swallowed, glancing at Azriel as he watched the silent interaction the two of you had before giving a terse nod and walking away. You would’ve noticed how his eyes narrowed, or how he looked stiff if you hadn’t taken a few too many sips between talking with those at Rita’s tonight.

“Want to take this back to my place?”

The male drawled, arm sliding around your waist as he began guiding you to the exit around the side, where people could discreetly leave. Neither of you was beating around the bush, and you rarely did anyway. You both just needed a release, or at least you did.

“Mm..sure.”

You murmured, body hot now, thinking about Azriel instead of the male leading you to his old home, wishing it was Azriel’s hands on you, wishing you knew what it felt like to know him more, deeper than just the tip of the iceberg you’d touched.

~

Weeks had passed since that night, you’d woken up cold and alone in the male’s bed, gotten up, and collected your clothes before walking your ass back to the townhouse while your head had felt like someone split it open.

You had vowed not to go drinking for a while now.

And things had gotten weird between you and Azriel Joe, too. He was avoiding you, and no matter how much he tried to deny it, you could tell.

When he heard your footsteps, he left the room almost immediately, hell, even his shadows were avoiding you, not following you like loyal dogs per usual, just one or two to make sure you were safe at all times like he did for every member of the Inner Circle. His jaw was clenched every time he was in a room with you, and he wouldn’t look you in the eye, maybe couldn’t.

You barely remembered what had happened that night other than a few blurry memories of conversations and whatnot; so you didn’t know if you’d said something stupid and messed it up, or he thought you were a whore for going out with that other male and leaving him all alone.

The more you thought about it, the more you thought the latter was more likely.

It didn’t help that just a few days later, amidst all your worries, you’d decided to take a little walk through Velaris to get some outside time and a serotonin boost, only for the exact opposite to happen when you were met with your previous fuck-buddy from that night weeks ago screaming in your face, yanking you down a small alleyway to properly yell at you.

“Nasty bitch, gave me a disease! If you’re going to be a whore, at least keep your fucking viruses to yourself-!”

Horror shot through you at his words. You didn’t have any sort of STD, not that you knew of at least, and if you’d spread the theoretical disease to him…He might be an asshole, but no one deserves that.

Unsure what to do as tears welled in your eyes and fell, you began trying to ignore him as you turned and dashed out of the alleyway, the loose clothing you were wearing helping you to slightly outpace him through the streets, avoiding the children and Fae on them, not to mention the vendors and toys strewn about.

He pursued you, screaming still, and hot tears of embarrassment pouring down your cheeks as you began to sob, you didn’t even realize you’d outrun him until you were already at the steps to the House of Wind, ascending them, not even bothering to count out the 10,000 steps in your head.

Somehow, through either pure anger or sadness, you reached the top right when your knees gave out, only for Nesta to catch you right before you fell, dressed in her training leathers, weapons strapped to her. Her forehead wrinkled in confusion and already-building anger as she saw you crying your eyes out.

“What’s wrong?”

She demanded, shifting to hold you up fully, carrying you bridal style as she started walking into the House, snapping her fingers once she got inside, and the House listened to her as always, making a warm cup of tea in your favorite flavor, and a comfort meal she knew you loved as she slowly sat you down at the table. The House must’ve deemed it necessary when it added a cushion beneath your butt on the chair, considering your aching legs.

You tried to blubber out an answer amidst the tears, but couldn’t manage to, and her eyes softened as she sighed, sitting down next to you on your right, before seeing that she wasn’t making much progress, and getting back up.

“Eat, we can talk about this later, I’ll go get him.”

You were about to ask who she was going to get, even though a part of you already knew as you saw her walking off in the direction of his room. You began slowly digging into the food, finding yourself to be much hungrier than earlier anticipated. Then again, you’d skipped out on breakfast, expecting to get a big lunch while out and about in Velaris.

Azriel arrived only a moment later, shadows swirling, concern evident on his face as Nesta gave him a stern look and pointed to you before she mouthed “You’re welcome.” to you, and strolled out of the door.

“What happened?”

He asked, smooth voice soaked in worry as he quickly pulled out the same chair Nesta had just been sitting in, sitting in it as it groaned under his weight. One of his wings stretched out in your direction, just barely curling around you.

You swallowed a bite of your food, tears coming back up.

“It’s embarrassing.”

You managed to croak out, and he shook his head.

“I won’t make fun of you, I promise.”

He pledged, and you trusted that promise as you sniffled again, wiping the wetness from your eyes with one hand.

“Me and that male from Rita’s, we slept together, and he just accused me of…of giving him an STD.”

You said, before breaking into sobs again, hands going to cover your face despite the warmth that burned in your cheeks from the shame of being in this situation. His large palm gently brushed over your back as he scooted closer, raising an eyebrow at the cushion in your seat for half a second before his wing curled fully around you; and he pulled you into a surprisingly warm hug.

“I’m sorry.”

He murmured, and your sobs slowly subsided until you had no tears left to cry, but you still held onto him in the hug, hands fisting the back of his shirt, the cloth bunching up beneath your fingers.

“What if I do, though? Have a..virus?”

He gave a little hum of thought.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, do you want to go get tested?”

You gave a sad little nod, a small pout on your lips that made him want to rip apart the male that made you feel this way. He gently picked you up, careful with your sore legs, figuring out what had happened rather quickly after some of his shadows informed him what they’d seen. They also quickly informed him on the full story, and what that male had done. Another job for another day, but he would make sure he paid for it.

Nearly two hours later, you’d had to pee in a cup for Madja to check, and now were getting blood taken to get that tested as well, as well as any other necessary bodily fluids. Symptoms were noted if there were any. It was uncomfortable at best, but Azriel held your hand the entire time, not even wincing when you squeezed his hand a bit too hard for all the scars covering it.

He quickly winnowed the both of you to the House of Wind afterward, having been told the results would take at least a day to get back. He winnowed the both of you straight into his room.

It was dark, curtains drawn and everything, with the barest essentials in it as well as a desk for work, a few maps hanging from the walls, and assortments of fancy knives you knew he must’ve collected over the centuries.

You turned to leave, but his hand grasping your wrist quickly made you turn, tilting your head sideways in mild confusion.

“Stay.”

He begged, looking terrified of what you might say, but also hopeful. You sniffled again, nodding and tentatively following him as he gently led you over to the bed, each move like a new dance, one that neither of you had practiced before, but were willing to try.

He slowly stripped his leathers off, letting you see his scarred body and wings for what it truly was. And for once, the sight of his bare body, while very attractive, didn’t just make you horny or craving him. It made you appreciate him, who he was at his core. The years he’d spent training and honing his body to protect his Court, the scars he’d suffered protecting his loved ones and serving them; even willing to take it to the end.

You appreciated him. Even in the bad lighting of the room, or the thick shadows swirling everywhere, you appreciated Azriel.

And so, in turn, you began slowly tugging your clothes off, leaving only your undergarments on. His eyes ran over you, respectfully as always, but taking in your vulnerability; who you were beneath the covers, before he gave a small nod.

He walked over to his dresser, pulled out one of his more casual shirts; one that was clean that he hadn’t worn in a good while, and walked over to you, standing in front of you as he helped gently tug the opening over your head, guiding your hands to the arm holes, adjusting it for you.

No words were exchanged, and none needed to be, not ad you both crawled into his bed under the blankets, and he enveloped you in an embrace; wings and arms wrapped around you with his head tucked into your neck.

And tonight, you knew for sure that you wouldn’t wake up cold and alone like that night so many weeks ago.

No, tonight, you didn’t need the warmth of passion or lust to keep you from the biting cold, now you had Azriel by your side, and that was more than enough.

[venus-haze]

God's Got a Sick Sense of Humor (Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader)

Summary: Your decision to dress up as a slutty nun for Halloween has unexpected consequences when you make the acquaintance of an equally attractive and disturbed priest. (AO3 link)

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Not entirely spoiler-free, but if you’ve watched up to episode 6, you should be good! Also I couldn't find what the parish name was, so I made one up. The gif doesn't really have anything to do with the fic, I just like it🤭 Please look at the warnings before deciding whether to read this fic.

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. Non-con involving degradation, rough oral sex (m. receiving); ambiguous ending.

You knew early on in the night you had made a mistake in costume choice. The vinyl skirt started pinching your waist after less than an hour of wearing it, the nipple pasties were slowly peeling off despite your best effort, and the platform heels weren’t forgiving after several shots of tequila. The vinyl habit stayed in place with the bobby pins you used, but after a while, it felt like it was cooking your head.

Your friends found your plight funnier as the night went on, cracking jokes about how it was God punishing you for wearing the costume in the first place. Lisa had little trouble with her Tinkerbell costume, a green mini-dress and sparkly heels she pulled from her closet and a cheap set of fairy wings from the same Spirit Halloween you got your costume from. Julie’s Bridgerton-inspired costume seemed a bit out of place compared to you and Lisa, but she got a lot of compliments on the details.

For the limited the fun your little desert town had to offer, something was definitely missing from the night out.

“Why did Merritt say she couldn’t make it, again?” Lisa asked, the three of you walking down the street to the next bar you’d inevitably terrorize. All the usual haunts, where the bartenders knew your order and half the patrons were people you’d gone to high school with and definitely didn’t want to see again.

You shrugged. “I texted her earlier, and she said she couldn’t make it, something came up.”

“It sucks she doesn’t hang out anymore,” Julie said. “Did we do something?”

“I mean, her dad’s in a coma, and her mom’s working all the time with those gross murders going on,” Lisa said. “She’s probably the only one keeping things together at home.”

The three of you had known Merritt for years, your friend group becoming tight-knit as time went on. Getting carted to and from soccer games turned into sleepovers and late nights getting fast food. You got to know the Tryons pretty well over the years. Her dad was nice enough, and you always found her mom funny, if not a bit overprotective, but Lois always remembered your birthday.

“I’m gonna stop by sometime this week. It’s been way too long since any of us have seen her,” you resolved.

Lisa and Julie agreed, though you weren’t sure Merritt would appreciate all of you showing up unannounced at her house. You figured you’d be better off going yourself and seeing what the deal was with Merritt.

Stumbling over your platforms, you struggled to keep up with Lisa and Julie until you tripped and nearly wiped out on the sidewalk. You caught yourself on a nearby telephone pole, the lights from the nearby buildings blurring the more you tried to focus.

“Fuck,” you groaned. “I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Are you sure?” Lisa asked.

“Yeah, I’m gonna find a convenience store and then get an Uber home.”

“We can go with you,” Julie said.

You shook your head. “Don’t end your night early because of me.”

“Alright, text us when you get home.”

When the world finally appeared upright again, you looked at the nearby street sign, recognizing where you were, at least. Not far to the nearest shop that you were certain would be open late. You checked your phone for the time and felt especially lame. It wasn’t even midnight yet.

With a sigh, you turned down the street, opening your messages to your most recent text to Merritt. Your FaceTime request went unanswered, so you opted for an audio message instead.

“Hey Mer, it’s me. We missed you tonight!” You paused awkwardly, wishing you could actually talk to her. “Look, there’s a Halloween party tomorrow night, something out in the desert. It’s not too late to get a costume. We could go to the Spirit Halloween in the old Bed, Bath and Beyond—“ A catcall interrupted your rambling. “Look, just call me or something, at least let me know you’re alright? Bye, babe.”

The fluorescent lights in the store were almost headache-inducing, but you powered through for a bottle of Gatorade and a protein bar that you hoped would mitigate the hangover you’d inevitably have in the morning. 

Gatorade in hand, you felt almost dizzy staring at the array of protein bars in front of you, wondering how there could even be so many and if they were really any different. A man walked down the aisle, standing a few feet away from you, though you didn’t pay him much mind until you grabbed a protein bar and noticed he was dressed as a priest.

“Hey, nice costume,” you told him.

“Oh, this isn’t a costume.”

You laughed. “Right.” Your inhibitions lowered, you gave him a once over, your gaze lingering on his handsome face, his muscular arms. “You know it’s a shame we didn’t run into each other earlier tonight, we probably could’ve won a couples contest or something.”

He smiled, though something flickered in his brown eyes that made your guts churn. Except, it likely wasn’t him, as you shoved what you were holding onto the shelf next to you and rushed out of the store.

You wretched, the contents of your stomach emptied onto the blacktop. Tears burned your eyes, your throat scratchy and raw by the time you were done. You felt a hand on your upper back, could barely hear the sound of a man asking if you were okay over the sound of blood pounding in your ears.

Glancing up, you were mortified to see the priest looking at you with concern, though disgust was nowhere in his expression.

He handed you the Gatorade you’d been holding in the store, apparently going ahead and buying it for you. Taking a swig, you swished some around in your mouth before spitting it on the ground. He gave you a handful of crumpled napkins as well, and you tried maintaining what was left of your dignity while getting yourself together in front of him.

You managed a mousy thanks, avoiding eye contact with him.

“Don’t tell me you plan on driving home,” he said.

You shook your head. “I came out here with my friends."

"And they just left you like this? Alone?"

"I told them I'd get an Uber.”

“They'll charge you double tonight," he said. "I can drive you.”

Accepting a ride home from a stranger certainly wasn’t the smartest choice to make, but he actually seemed to give a shit about your well-being. You agreed, if not for the fact that you were curious about him, and the horny part of your brain hadn't shut up since you saw him.

He kept his hand on your back as he walked you over to his car. Almost felt like his fingers were twitching against your skin. 

Getting into his car, you noticed the rosary hanging from the rearview mirror, a saint card clipped to his visor. 

“Oh my god, are you actually a priest?” you asked from the passenger seat as he turned the car on.

“I told you it wasn’t a costume.”

“Shit.”

“Father Charlie Mayhew, from Our Lady of Sorrows, if you don’t believe me.” He smiled, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your address?”

After giving him your address along with your name, realizing you hadn’t told him yet, you rolled the window down about halfway, finding the fragrant odor of incense and cologne a bit overwhelming for your queasy stomach. The cool night air gave you instant relief, and you laid back on the headrest, keeping your eyes closed for a few minutes. 

Father Charlie filled the quiet with a true crime podcast. Not a particularly odd choice, except that he was a priest, but Catholicism always lent itself to morbidity—his was more modern, you supposed.

“Have you heard about those murders around town?” you asked over the sound of a young woman giving the background of a triple homicide.

“Yes, our parish’s publication has been reporting on it,” he said. “I'm the editor, but one of our nuns is working closely with the lead detective on the case.”

You opened your eyes to look at him in disbelief. “Lois is working with a nun?”

“You know detective Tryon?”

“She’s my best friend’s mom,” you said. “I went to her house all the time growing up.”

“You must know her pretty well, then.”

“Yeah, Lois is one hell of a detective,” you said. “Still, I can’t imagine…whoever’s behind it must be depraved. What he’s doing—it’s not even human, it’s animal.”

“He?”

“I don’t think anyone but a man could be capable of that kind of barbarism, Father.”

“You might be right about that,” he said solemnly.

You drank more Gatorade, hoping to settle your stomach and ease your discomfort with the direction the conversation had taken. But you were the one who brought up the murders in the first place. All had some kind of religious connotation. No wonder the Catholic paper was eating that shit up. 

Catholicism was always predisposed to an especially grotesque morbidity. Open wounds considered blessings. Bones of the holy displayed with reverence. Even bread and wine transformed into the body and blood of Christ himself. Whoever was behind the recent murders was either observant or well-read.

Father Charlie pulled up to your building about ten minutes later, and you internally sighed in relief when he turned the podcast off. You couldn’t wait to get out of the damn costume and into bed.

“Thanks, Father Charlie,” you said. “I owe you one.”

“Actually, mind if I use your bathroom?” he asked.

You shook your head. “‘Course not. Come on up.”

Acutely aware of the costume you were wearing again, it was far too tempting not to show off on the way up to your apartment, swinging your hips a bit more than was warranted, knowing he was right behind you, the tight skirt giving him a full view of your ass. You privately bemoaned the fact that he was actually a priest. What a fucking waste. A guy who looked like him had no business giving himself to Jesus and denying the rest of the world the pleasure.

You took a selfie by your front door, a tired smile and a thumbs up that you sent to Julie and Lisa.

“Just letting my friends know I got home safe,” you explained, noticing Father Charlie staring at you.

You could barely hide your self-satisfied smile when you unlocked the front door. “The bathroom’s through the kitchen, first door on the right.”

“Thank you.”

Making a beeline for your bedroom, the first thing you did was take your heels off. Your feet were still sore, with a mean blister that made you walk funny when you brought the heels over to your shoe rack. You could hear the toilet flush and the water from the sink run in the bathroom. Chewing on your lip, you were almost tempted to ask Father Charlie if he wanted to stick around. If you could just brush your teeth and reapply some makeup real quick, you'd be good as new.

You never got a chance to.

“So, why this costume?” he asked, startling you.

You gasped, turning around to see him leaning against the door frame. “Oh, um—I thought it was funny.”

“What’s funny about it?”

“Well, nuns aren’t supposed to have sex, and this costume is—”

“Pornographic," he said. "I mean, it’s something you get fucked in.”

“Yeah,” you whispered, shocked at his bluntness.

“Chastity. The sacred vow to God that all women of the cloth take, and you—” he scoffed to himself, stepping into your bedroom so he was only a few feet away from you, “you mock it.”

You knew you should’ve picked the sexy nurse costume instead. “I’m so sorry, Father.”

“You will be. Get on your knees.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

“Don’t be crude. This is about repentance.”

The searing venom in his voice made your muscles contort to his will, and you found yourself on your knees. You should have been fighting back, screaming for him to get out, but in your heart you knew it was useless. Back in the convenience store, you noticed his fit physique, and you could hardly count on your neighbors to give a shit if you were in any kind of trouble.

"Do you even know how to make a sign of the cross?" he asked mockingly.

You shakily did so, bringing your left hand to your forehead, then your chest, then to each shoulder. He scoffed, apparently you messed something up, but he didn't elaborate, instead ordering you to repeat after him. The prayer came jumbled from your mouth, 'through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault' over and over until his voice was ringing in your ears like a broken church bell.

The bulge in his pants was impossible to ignore. You kept your eyes focused on his face, even when you heard the sound of his zipper and clothes shifting. But you couldn't help it, not when he was pumping his cock right in front of your face. Your repetition dipped with a slight whimper when you glanced at the size of him, foolishly hoping it was just proximity making his length appear so intimidating and angry, as if it wanted to hurt you just like he did.

“Simply praying won’t do someone like you any good," he said abruptly. "You need another form of penance, something more tangible."

Shoving his cock in your open mouth, you choked at the intrusion, attempted to shift backward and finally make a run for it, but he caught you by the habit you so stupidly kept in place with bobby pins and hit the back of your throat.

"Why don't you give me ten Hail Marys?" he mocked, his looming silhouette appearing outright demonic through your tear-filled gaze.

You didn't know the damn prayer. Couldn't even try to fake it when all you could manage was muffled pleas for him to slow down, go easy on you, have mercy. Your jaw ached, throat burned at the force he used to make you take as much of his cock as you possibly could.

He didn't show any signs of fatigue, save for the beads of sweat that rolled from his face and onto your own. He grinned at that, at you, the position you were in. The church was full of sickos, and he was certainly no exception.

Making one feeble attempt to fight back, your teeth grazed his cock, and just as you tried to work up the courage to bite down, he jerked his hips, cursing under his breath.

"Take it," his voice a low growl as he came in your mouth, ignoring your choking, spit and snot and cum leaking down your face and onto your vinyl costume and exposed breasts, "take your penance, slut."

Father Charlie hardly gave you a chance to catch your breath when he pulled his spent cock out of your mouth. You practically collapsed on your bedroom floor, each gasp of air painful against the back of your abused throat. Grabbing you by the habit again, he hauled you over to your bed, bending you over the edge of it.

He shoved his fingers between your legs and scoffed at the wetness that coated your thighs, your thong doing little to contain your subconscious reaction to the way he treated you. "Oh, that's just shameful," he drawled. "You're not repentant at all, are you? Leading a man of the cloth astray, causing me to sin…why else would you have put this costume on tonight?"

Straddling you from behind like a dog, his body was heavy on yours. With one hand squeezing your neck, the other pressed something against your throat. You reached for whatever he was holding, freezing in panic when you realized it was the hair scissors you kept in your bathroom. He must have swiped it while he was in there. They weren't even that sharp, but the extra effort he'd have to put in to mortally injure you with them would mean it would be all the more painful for you.

“Depraved, animal, barbaric,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “Is that what you think of me?”

You whimpered, feeling his cruel laughter rumble in his chest against your back. “No—no, you can’t be—”

“I was going to do something about that costume anyway, but having that mutual friend in common,” he mused, “I just can’t pass up the opportunity to leave Detective Tryon a personal message. Call it divine will.”

“I’m sorry,” you choked out.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. You can tell God yourself how sorry you are,” he whispered.

“No—Father, please don’t—”

[rmview]

they find your smut blog, ATEEZ.

featuring — ateez members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when the ateez boys stumble upon your smut blog/thirst account!

contents — crack, no warnings.

hong ⊹ joong

hongjoong was always one to notice the smallest details, whether it was in his music or daily life. so when he walked into your shared workspace and saw your laptop open with your writing on display, his sharp eyes immediately picked up the title of your draft. his curiosity got the better of him as he skimmed the screen.

at first, he thought it was just fanfiction — something he was familiar with given ateez’s popularity. but as he read further, his eyes widened, and the tips of his ears turned red. it wasn’t just any writing; it was a smut piece featuring him.

hongjoong closed the laptop quickly, his heart pounding. part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity, while another part was flattered — and admittedly a little flustered. he paced the room, trying to figure out how to bring this up without embarrassing both of you.

when you walked back in, oblivious to what he’d just discovered, hongjoong cleared his throat. “uh… i think we need to talk,” he said, his tone a mix of amusement and seriousness.

you froze, noticing the way he avoided eye contact. “what’s going on?”

“i… might’ve seen what you were working on,” he admitted, gesturing toward the laptop. “and let’s just say i didn’t know you were that creative.”

your face turned crimson as the realization hit you. “you — what? you read it?!”

hongjoong chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “not all of it! just enough to know… well, enough.” he stepped closer, his expression softening. “hey, it’s okay. honestly, i’m kind of impressed by how well you captured my personality. and, uh… flattered? i didn’t know you saw me like that.”

despite the teasing glint in his eyes, hongjoong made sure to reassure you. “look, i’m not upset. if anything, i think it’s kind of cool that you express yourself like this. just… maybe give me a heads-up next time?”

over the next few days, he couldn’t resist playfully bringing it up. “so, any new masterpieces in the works?” he’d tease, his grin mischievous. but beneath the jokes, he made it clear that he respected your creativity and wasn’t judging you for it.

seong ⊹ hwa

seonghwa had always been a gentleman, respectful of your privacy and boundaries. but when he noticed your laptop open with your writing displayed, curiosity got the better of him. the words on the screen caught his attention immediately — explicit yet beautifully written.

his face turned beet red as he realized the subject of the story: him. seonghwa’s mind raced with a mix of emotions — shock, embarrassment, and an odd sense of pride. he never imagined you had this side to you, and while it flustered him, he couldn’t deny the intrigue.

when you returned and saw his face, you instantly knew something was wrong, or perhaps too right. “hwa? what’s going on?”

he hesitated, gesturing to your laptop. “i… might’ve seen what you were writing,” he admitted softly, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

your heart sank. “oh no. you didn’t…”

“i did,” he said, his gaze meeting yours. “but before you panic, let me say this: i’m not upset. i just… didn’t expect it, that’s all.”

seonghwa’s reaction was gentle and understanding. he sat you down, his hands clasping yours. “i know this is probably embarrassing for you, but i want you to know i’m not judging you. if anything, i’m flattered that you think of me in that way.”

he paused, his cheeks still flushed. “though i will say, some of those details were… very specific. do you really think i’d say something like that?”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “i can’t believe this is happening.”

seonghwa laughed softly, pulling you into a comforting hug. “hey, it’s okay. if writing makes you happy, then i support it. just… maybe don’t let me accidentally find it next time?”

from then on, he treated the situation with a mix of humor and affection, occasionally joking, “so, when do i get to read the sequel?”

yun ⊹ ho

yunho was naturally curious and playful, so when he saw your laptop open on the table with a document displayed, he couldn’t help but glance at it. as his eyes scanned the words, he quickly realized it was a smut piece — and not just any smut piece. it was about him.

his initial reaction was shock, followed by a sheepish laugh. “what the heck?” he muttered to himself, his cheeks heating up. yunho had always been confident, but this was a side of you he hadn’t expected.

when you walked in, you immediately noticed his awkward stance and the way he avoided your gaze. “what’s wrong?” you asked, suspicious.

“uh… nothing?” he said, failing to sound convincing. “well, actually, maybe something. i might’ve… seen what you were writing.”

your heart dropped. “yunho, no. please tell me you didn’t read it.”

“i did,” he admitted, holding up his hands in defense. “but only because it was open! i swear i didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

the room fell silent as you tried to process the situation. yunho, however, broke the tension with his usual humor. “so… is this a thing you do? write spicy stories about me?”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “i can’t believe this.”

yunho laughed, pulling you into a hug. “hey, don’t be embarrassed. honestly, i think it’s kind of amazing. you’re really talented, you know? though i’ll admit, reading that was definitely… an experience.”

he spent the rest of the evening reassuring you, his playful yet supportive nature shining through. “just promise me one thing,” he teased with a grin. “if you ever publish these, let me proofread first.”

yeo ⊹ sang

yeosang was quiet and observant by nature, so when he noticed your laptop open on the table, he didn’t think much of it at first. but as he moved closer and caught sight of the text on the screen, his usually calm demeanor wavered. he leaned in to confirm what he was seeing — a piece of writing that vividly described him in a very intimate light.

his eyes widened, and a deep blush crept up his cheeks. yeosang’s mind raced, both flattered and flustered. he stood there frozen for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or quietly close the laptop and pretend he hadn’t seen it.

when you walked into the room, you instantly noticed his awkward stance and the redness on his face. “yeosang? what’s wrong?”

he hesitated, looking between you and the laptop. “um… i think i might have accidentally read something i wasn’t supposed to.”

your heart dropped. “wait… you didn’t…”

he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. i did. and… wow.”

you panicked, trying to explain. “it’s not what it looks like! well, okay, maybe it is, but i—”

yeosang raised a hand to stop you, his blush deepening. “hey, it’s okay. i’m not mad. just… surprised. i didn’t know you wrote stuff like that, especially about me.”

his reaction was gentle, his tone soft and understanding. “i mean, it’s a little embarrassing, but honestly… i’m kind of honored? you’re really talented.”

as you tried to hide your face in embarrassment, yeosang chuckled and stepped closer. “hey, don’t worry. i won’t tease you about it… much,” he said with a small smile. “just… maybe let me read the next one when you’re done?”

san ⊹

san was always known for his emotional intensity, and when he spotted your laptop open, his curiosity got the better of him. he glanced at the screen, only to be greeted with a vivid and passionate piece of writing. the more he read, the more it became clear: it was about him.

san’s eyes widened, and a deep blush spread across his face. his initial reaction was a mix of shock, embarrassment, and amusement. “what the…?” he muttered under his breath, unable to stop himself from reading a few more lines.

when you walked in, san immediately snapped the laptop shut, looking guilty but also amused. “um… we need to talk,” he said, his tone a mix of seriousness and playfulness.

“what’s going on?” you asked, noticing his flushed face.

“well, let’s just say i found something interesting on your laptop,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “care to explain why you’re writing about me like that?”

your face turned crimson as you realized what he was talking about. “oh my god, you weren’t supposed to see that!”

san laughed, his usual playful nature shining through. “clearly. but, honestly… i’m not mad. just surprised. and maybe a little flattered?”

he stepped closer, his expression softening. “hey, i get it. writing is your thing, and if this is how you express yourself, who am i to judge? just… maybe warn me next time, yeah?”

from then on, san couldn’t resist teasing you, though he made sure you knew he supported your creativity. “so, when’s the next chapter coming out?” he’d ask with a cheeky grin, making you groan in embarrassment.

min ⊹ gi

mingi’s curious and open-minded nature often led him into interesting situations, and this was no exception. when he spotted your laptop open on the couch, he casually glanced at it, not expecting much. but as he read the words on the screen, his jaw dropped.

the realization that you were writing smut about him hit him like a ton of bricks. his cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “what is this?” he muttered, his deep voice tinged with disbelief and amusement.

when you walked in and saw him standing over your laptop, you froze. “mingi? what are you doing?”

he turned to you, his face still red. “i, uh… saw what you were writing. and… wow. i didn’t know you wrote stuff like that.”

your face burned with embarrassment. “you weren’t supposed to see that!”

mingi raised his hands in defense. “hey, i didn’t mean to invade your privacy! it was just… open, and i got curious.” he paused, a small smile tugging at his lips. “honestly, i don’t know whether to be flattered or embarrassed.”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands. “this is so humiliating.”

mingi chuckled, his tone light and reassuring. “don’t be. i think it’s kind of cool that you’re so creative. though i have to admit, some of those details… wow. you’ve got quite the imagination.”

despite his initial embarrassment, mingi made an effort to make you feel at ease. “hey, it’s no big deal,” he said, his voice warm. “just promise me one thing: if you ever write more, let me know so i don’t stumble on it by accident again.”

woo ⊹ young

wooyoung’s playful and mischievous personality made his reaction to finding your open laptop anything but subtle. when he saw the explicit story you’d been writing about him, his first instinct was to laugh — not out of mockery but pure disbelief.

“oh my god, is this real?” he said to himself, scrolling through the text with wide eyes. his laughter quickly turned into a mix of flattery and curiosity.

when you walked in, wooyoung grinned at you, holding up your laptop. “care to explain this, author-nim?”

your face turned bright red. “wooyoung! you weren’t supposed to see that!”

he laughed, setting the laptop down and walking over to you. “i mean, how could i not? it was just sitting there! and honestly… wow. you’ve got some serious talent.”

you groaned, trying to avoid his teasing gaze. “this is so embarrassing.”

wooyoung tilted his head, his grin softening into a more sincere smile. “hey, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s kind of awesome that you write. and if i’m your muse, well… i guess i should be honored, right?”

though he couldn’t resist teasing you occasionally —“so, is this how you see me in your head? should i live up to it?” — wooyoung also made sure you knew he was supportive. “seriously, though, don’t stop writing. you’re amazing at it.”

jong ⊹ ho

jongho was always respectful of your space and privacy, but when he walked into the room and saw your laptop open on the coffee table, curiosity got the better of him. he glanced at the screen, his eyebrows raising as he began to read. at first, he thought it was just some creative writing, but as he scanned the words, realization dawned on him.

his usually calm expression shifted into one of shock and flustered surprise. the story was detailed — very detailed — and it was clearly about him. he rubbed the back of his neck, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks as he tried to decide what to do. should he close it? pretend he didn’t see anything? or confront you?

when you walked back in and saw him standing there, your heart sank. his posture gave it away immediately. “jongho? what are you doing?”

he turned to you, his ears tinged red. “i… might’ve seen what you were working on,” he admitted, his voice steady but clearly flustered.

your face burned with embarrassment. “wait… you read it?!”

“i didn’t mean to,” he said quickly, raising his hands defensively. “it was just open, and i… well, i got curious.”

you covered your face with your hands, groaning. “oh my god, this is so embarrassing.”

jongho’s expression softened, and he stepped closer, his voice calm and reassuring. “hey, it’s okay. don’t beat yourself up over it.” he hesitated, his lips twitching into a small, shy smile. “honestly… i’m flattered. i didn’t know you thought about me like that.”

jongho reached out and gently took your hands away from your face. “look, i know this is probably awkward for you, but i think it’s kind of amazing that you’re so creative. if writing is how you express yourself, then i support it.”

his tone turned a bit teasing as he added, “though, maybe next time, password-protect your laptop if you don’t want me accidentally finding stuff like this.”

you let out a nervous laugh, and jongho smiled, his grip on your hands firm and comforting. “don’t stress about it, okay? if anything, i admire you more for being brave enough to write something like that. just… maybe leave me a heads-up next time,” he said, his teasing tone returning as he shot you a playful wink.

though he didn’t bring it up often after that, jongho made sure you knew he wasn’t judging you. occasionally, he’d tease you lightly — “so, any new stories i should know about?” — but his support and admiration for your creativity always shone through.

notes: subtle foreshadowing of smut fic soon...

[impishjesters]

I have this idea floating around in my brain for a while about a reader who likes to draw and because they have a crush on Jax they draw him. Jax eventually steals their notebook and probably teases them about it lol.

Jax x Crushing!Reader

warning(s): innuendos, bullying/teasing, Jax note(s): Look it's me and Jax, there's gonna be innuendos or some spicy wording and bullying. It's like a packaged deal or something. A/N: If you see me mixing Angel Dust's speech into Jax, no you didn't. If you didn't notice, I don't know how to tease and not be an asshole, so pretty on the brand I guess.

Caine had given you a sketchbook upon request, it was a little different than an actual sketchbook but it did the job regardless. Ever since your arrival, your fingers have been itching to draw, there were so many new sights and so much new inspiration.

There were so many things, so why did it seem like the doodles of Jax ended up on almost every page?

Easy, you had a crush on the apathetic, mischievous jerk named Jax.

Why? Well, now that’s the million-dollar question. He’s not inherently awful, no, that’s a lie, he’s an asshole. You don’t really have a good read on him yet but he’s funny! That’s gotta be redeemable, right? However, his jokes are usually backhanded and often involve being mean at the expense of others.

Okay so he’s a walking red flag but there’s something about him that has you crushing on the purple bastard.

Looking down at the sketchbook on your lap shows another two pages filled with sketches of random things, though most of the page is filled with Jax. You had taken to sketching things back in the real world to remind yourself of home, but eventually, those sketches would involve Jax doing mundane things.

Thing’s like sitting at a table eating real food, though you took creative measures when drawing an open mouth on him, it still looked off but it was serene and domestic. Then there’s the little sketch at the bottom of the page of Jax leaning against a window and staring outside. You’d manage to nab the pose and angle when he was leaning against one of the many random geometrical-shaped things in the main room and later added in a window.

It was embarrassing that almost more than half of the pages in the book involved Jax to some degree. Some pages weren’t even subtle, the whole page taking up a detailed portrait version of the male. Sometimes you even got creative and put him in different clothing.

Thumbing through the pages you saw there weren’t that many empty pages left. You’d need to ask Caine for another one and figure out what to do with this one. It couldn’t be left out in the open, you knew Jax had keys to everyone’s room and wouldn’t put it past him to go snooping. He’d already questioned you about the sketchbook before.

You’d been so focused on the sketchbook that you hadn’t noticed the man of the hour walking up. Jax noticed your intense focus and peeked over to see the infamous sketchbook on your lap, and with practiced ease managed to yoink it right off your lap.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? You finally showing me what you keep your nose buried into?”

A yelp left you, stumbling to get on your feet you rushed to him and began swatting at the book and of course, he’d keep raising it just out of reach. “You took it! I didn’t say you could look at that!”

“Nah, pretty sure you said I could look at it.” He continued to lower and raise the book as you jumped to grab it. Sure he was curious before, but with a reaction like that? How could he not be even more curious? What kind of seedy shit were you drawing? Or perhaps some spicy nonfamily-friendly content?

Jax ignored your frantic words and opened the book to a random page, he was going to tease you about whatever dumb stuff you drew since you always had your nose in it but all he saw were sketches of himself.

A normal person might get embarrassed and hand the book back, but he’s not a normal person. It’s a little freaky, he won’t lie. A glance downwards shows him you’ve gone silent in front of him, simply staring down while he invades the privacy that was your sketchbook.

Your face is red and you look like you’re going to cry any second.

He’s a jerk, he was going to fuck with you, and he still is, but for the moment he’s taking in all the creative little pieces involving his face. Ya know, he never really thought much about how he’d look in other clothes. Gotta say he looks pretty snazzy in something that isn’t these shitty overalls.

“You know if I didn’t know any better,” his fingers still flip through the pages as he steps closer, circling you. “I’d say you like me.”

“I don’t.”

The reply is rushed and he rolls his eyes at the blatant lie, he’ll humor you this time. “Oh yeah? Does that mean you’ve got sketchbooks for everyone else too? Cause I’m pretty sure this is the only one I’ve seen you with.” He taps a doodle on the cover that gives away it’s the same notebook he always sees you with.

Tears trickled down your cheeks, you knew he was a jerk but this felt like too much. You just wanted your sketchbook back and to run away to your room, maybe pin something in front of the door that would render even the key useless.

His eyes roll the second he sees a tear, he’s not really seeing the problem here. You’ve got a book full of creepy—okay not completely creepy, he’s a good model so good on you for seeing that—sketches of him and he’s truthfully honored. It’s clear that you didn’t do this with everyone, so he’s honored to be your little model. Besides, it’s not like you actually have a crush on him, right?

Minutes tick by of him simply eyeing you, you’re still crying and it’s starting to get a little ugly and snotty, ugh. But you aren’t trying to further deny his little comment about you liking him. He’ll have to have a little talk about that later, what you could possibly see in him because he knows that you aren’t a sadist—oh, are you a masochist? That’d explain a lot.

Jax sighs and closes the book but doesn’t hand it over, simply putting the free hand on his hip. “You know if you wanted to see my face all you gotta do is ask. I’ll gladly show you this handsome face any day toots.”

Of all the things you thought he’d say, that wasn’t it. “H-huh..?” You embarrassingly wipe away the tears and snot before looking up at him.

“You heard me. Ya know I love this face too, very handsome. Maybe we can get Caine to put up some artwork in the tent of yours truly.” Jax wouldn’t consider himself vain, but you did have a way of making him look more, dare he say, attractive.

“I-I don’t… I don’t understand…” Was he still making fun of you?

He rolls his eyes before playfully hitting your head with the book. “Jeez, and here I thought you were smart.” Jax leaned over like he was speaking to a child and pushed the book to your chest. “I’m saying, the next time you wanna draw me I’ll give you a front-row seat. Maybe even take it to the bedroom so we won’t be disturbed.”

You push the book into his face to cover up that growing smirk and blush furiously. “Wh-what?! N-no I-I don’t…!” It’s hard to tell if he’s being serious or not in his offer to model for you, especially with the bedroom comment.

“C’mon, clearly you got taste. I mean that book is filled with sketches of me. I’ll commend you on your immaculate taste.” Jax taps the book before playfully bopping your nose. “At least let me give you the pleasure of seeing me close up. I’ve never been a model before so you might have to get a little hands-on to get me the way you want me.”

As the innuendos continue your face feels like it’s getting impossibly red and warm. Somehow this is worse than him telling you a sketchbook full of his face is creepy, in fact, you’d almost prefer it because your poor little heart can’t take anymore. You let out a yell and it stops his tangent but that stupid smirk of his never disappears.

“Offer still stands. You know where to find me.” Jax turns away but not before throwing a little wink over his shoulder. He still plans on pestering you about what you see in him, but for now, he’ll cut you some slack. You’re about as red as Ragatha’s hair and as much as he loves to see it, he didn’t plan to get this sidetracked when he saw you on your own.

He’s got a sucker to prank.

[liveontelevision]

Sweet Radio Demon Alastor x Reader

As promised, here she is -

It's inspired by Living Tombstone's song Alastor's Game!

CW: Reader is a cannibal and it's a p big part of the story so mentions and details of cannibalistic intent and murder

♡♡♡

Some people just don't belong in Hell. The structure of divine judgment must be rigged, punishing any poor soul who commits sin without realizing it. Those individuals don't belong.

Then there are those who do. Those who realize there's an afterlife and instantly come to terms with their placement. That's when all the Oh, I'm definitely going to Hell for this jokes start to bite back.

It's always easier for those who choose to be sinners to adapt to Hell's settings. The job market for porn stars and actors is extensive, and protection is almost guaranteed despite the souls owed or deals made.

But, what interested you the most, you depraved sinner you, was the loveliness of Cannibal Town. Not only was it the nicest part of Pentagram City, but you felt right at home considering your appetite when you were living.

It was immense. Some kind of craving that you could never satisfy, no matter how many callers you invited into your home and how many of them never left. You got creative, playing with recipes, spices, and cooking methods, but it was never, never, enough.

Sometimes, you'd wonder how you got to this point. You were a normal enough kid, went to school, had a nuclear home life, and you were comfortable financially, the works.

You remember it feeling like a stomach ache.

A stomach ache that brought you to tears and kept you from school some days. You almost assumed it was something every child went through until you learned what subdued the pain.

Meat.

It was the solution. You ate like a carnivore at first, then the food became increasingly rare as you aged up. Until you stumbled upon some strange forums online (There's something online for everyone, I suppose). You gave in to the cryptid suggestions. You tried rodents at first, only after thorough mental and food preparation, but fuck did it do the job. It made your body shutter and your mind hazy, momentarily melting any thoughts of guilt you might still have.

As time went on, you grew hungrier. Animals weren't cutting it.. but maybe he could.

You found him online, chatted for a while over some messenger, then discovered how much of a dirtbag he truly was. That seemed to disarm you from the whole idea.

Poor thing.

Maybe if he was kind enough, he would have been spared.

You invited him over.

As you watch him approach your door, you tussle your hair, and adjust your clothes that leave little to the imagination. With a continuous, you can do this, you can do this, you're drawn to the knocking of the door.

"Damn, babe, if I knew you actually looked like this, I would've come over sooner." He props his arm on the doorframe as he speaks.

Is.. is that supposed to be a compliment?

Your eye only twitches a bit before you cover your expression with a cute giggle. Holding your hands behind your back, you lean forward.

"Not too bad yourself, big guy. How's a movie sound?"

One thing leads to another, you're seated on your couch, and his hands are immediately on you. For someone who acts so big and tough, his touch is awkward and uncomfortable. Like he doesn't know what he's doing.. probably because he doesn't know what he's doing.

The inexperience helps.

You didn't take into account how large he was. Assuming this would go as planned, you'd be set for weeks, but the actual action of getting him down still worries you.

You're barely an hour into the movie, which you can hardly remember, before his sloppy lips are on yours, which you respond to with a grimace. He doesn't seem to take into account your reactions, grunting against your very unresponsive lips.

Disgusting.

Pig.

He places a large hand on your waist, pulling you roughly to him.

Strong.

Muscular.

You need more. You need to evaluate your prey. You place your hand on his wrist, delicately running your fingers up the entirety of his forearm, tracing and digging into each vein and muscle you can find. That continues up to his chest. Before long, you find yourself straddling him, his wide hips forcing your legs apart a decent amount. Despite his build, his composure clearly shows he's nearly at your mercy. While you're running your hands along his body continuously, occasionally kissing him or letting out fake moans to his ear, you're feeling his ever-growing length pressing into your leg.

You'd be disgusted by the sensation if you weren't planning your next move internally.

You hid weapons everywhere. If you remember correctly, there should be a knife sitting in the crevice between the couch’s armrest and the side table. You just have to reach -

"Take this off." You command with a breathy voice, tugging at his t-shirt that had some unknown stain on it. You almost regret putting so much effort into your appearance.

Oh, well. You're taking notes in the back of your mind for any future endeavors.

You guide his desperate hands to pull the shirt over his head. In one movement, you drop the shirt and take the hidden knife into your hand. You hadn't realized until just now, but -

You're shaking.

You let out a deep breath. With your arms reaching over the arm of the couch, you're essentially caging him in. Nothing looks suspicious yet. Not to him, at least.

You lean in to give him one final kiss. You aren't exactly sure why. It's not doing anything for you. Maybe some sort of sympathy is crossing your mind?

… You'll have to work on that.

You pull away slowly, giving yourself time to examine the state he's in. His eyes are glazed over, his breath shallow.

Now.

Do it now.

You're ready. You've studied anatomy, disarmed yourself to the idea, and prepared for the worst.

You have to do it now.

You straighten your back, the knife now visible to him. He doesn't seem to notice at first until your arms are in the air, hoping to find some momentum in the stab. With your eyes still open, you find the spot where it should end this without too much pain for either party. You dive as fast as you can, but you made a fatal error.

You shut your eyes.

The moment was immediately silenced by the tension of his hand fisting the blade of the knife. He caught it. He stopped it just before it could pierce his chest, only bleeding from his palm. You both sit silently, in disbelief, perhaps.

A silent curse slips from your lips, and that seems to snap him back to this failure of a hook-up.

"You fucking psychopath!" He screeches. He stands, effectively throwing you off his lap as he does so. The action forces a small yelp out of you, and your grip on the knife is immediately taken from you. You stare up at him from the ground.

The tables seem to have turned. He's looking down at you, stumbling and struggling to find his grounding, all the while holding the knife. Despite this, despite his large build and his newfound advantage, he bolts for the door.

Was this better than him attacking you? Will he go to the police? You almost hope he's fragile enough to not admit he was attacked by a frail creature, or that he'll use this as a story to brag to his friends over, I escaped a psycho bitch last night.

You start cursing again. They become more frantic and louder as you follow him out. You watch him stumble off your patio and back to his car. You manage to find reality when a previous thought hits you.

You hid weapons everywhere.

A shotgun sits by your front door. It wasn't the most hidden, but in your defense, it was dark enough outside that it went unnoticed. And you're in a rural enough area that some wouldn't bat an eye at the sight of it.

With shaky hands, you pick it up, already loaded, and aim it at him. He's already in the driver's seat, but you're too exposed to let him just drive off at this point.

You didn't really know much about guns. But in an emergency such as this, it seemed like it would come in handy. So when you took your shot, you never considered the consequences of shooting bullets at a running car, especially with your poor aim.

You come to moments later, fire and pieces of metal surround you. You try to take in your surroundings, but your ears are ringing, and your senses are overwhelmed by the severe burns covering most of your body. You manage to find your home, still mostly intact. The car, on the other hand, is completely decimated.

In the corner of your eye, you think you can spot some resemblance of your date sprawled along the asphalt. With a heavy breath, which you consider might be your last, you let your head drop onto the pavement.

-

"My my, what a predicament you've got yourself into!"

A voice?

It echoes through your head. You can still only see the crackling of the fire surrounding you, and your ears still ring, but the voice seems clear as day. There's a bit of a static to it, but still it's clearnes startles you. You attempt to respond through the pain.

"W-Who-"

"Save your strength, my dear. I'll be quick since it seems you won't be with us much longer." The voice says. You can hear footsteps, a clear clicking of heels that echo in this ethereal space you find yourself. You struggle to lift your head, only catching a glimpse of the stranger kneeling in front of you.

"I'll clean up this little mess of yours, and we can discuss my repayment once you're in less of a.. scorched state. Deal?"

How could you consider the consequences? Or even comprehend his words while you’re like this? You aren't sure what he means, and you have no time to question. Your consciousness seems to be honing in on the burns.

You let out a horrific scream, clutching your arms, only intensifies the pain. If you could see the stranger, you'd see a disturbingly unphased smile.

"Help me - H-Help me! Please!" You beg and cry out, finally reaching out your hand to him.

"So? Do we have a deal?"

"Deal - Deal! Fuck- I-It hurts..!" You sob, biting your blood-dampened lip to prevent any more screams.

He takes your hand, gripping onto the raw skin of your burns. Your next scream comes out silently. You feel your vision blur before your body finally comes to terms with its seemingly sealed fate.

-

You shoot up from your bed, your face running with tears. They feel cool, running down your heated cheeks. You quickly wipe your face, leaving a wet smudge of makeup and sweat across your fingers.

Right.. make-up from the date.

You scan your bed, no man in sight. It’s a relief to wake up in your bed alone. Shifting out from under the covers, you look to your hands, waving them in front of your eyes and running your hands across your own skin.

Smooth.

Maybe even softer than you remember previously.

Some sort of calming amenity seems to be sweeping over your body. With glazed eyes, you examine your body that should be severely burned, yet you feel nothing.

Still, in a state of shock, you rise and wrap yourself in your blanket before leaving your bedroom looking a mess. You roam your home, looking around with still-damp eyes. You feel like a tourist. Like none of this is yours.

Not anymore.

You find yourself standing by your front door, opening it without hesitation. It's a clear sunny day. The grass is just as green, if not greener, and there were flowers there that you don't recall ever planting.

Suddenly, your bare feet against the heated pavement sends a slight panic through you, as the more gruesome details of the previous night conjured in your mind.

That's why nothing looks right. You were sure your porch was blackened by the fire. The grass was a flame, and there was a car - and that man and the voice -

You approach where his car was parked, only to find a torn-up strip of rubber, assumingly from its tire.

"What the.." unable to even complete a thought, a familiar voice only brings up more questions.

"Ah, my apologies! I assure you it is quite out of character for me to miss a spot." You see a disturbingly tall figure come from behind, swooping down to pick up the rubber scrap. He examines it within his red talons, turning it back and forth. You stand dumbfounded, but he goes on anyway.

"So, what exactly caused your date to ..implode? Was he not to your liking? Too handsy? Too-"

...

You're too tired for this.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, turning on your heels and letting the blanket drag across the rugged pavement behind you as you head back inside. You almost expect some sort of resistance from him, a qwip on how rude it is to walk off in the middle of a conversation, but there is none. Maybe you just imagined that little interaction. Maybe there wasn't really anyone there, and you're still tired or still sleeping.

You open the door, and that same bright smile greets you from inside your own home.

That seems to wake you up.

Your wide eyes scan his face, then peek inside your home behind him. You turn back around to see where he previously was, and obviously there's no sign of his travels. You slowly turn back.

"May I speak now?" His voice is laced with a radio filter, and it hits your ears in the strangest way. The reality of the situation turns your exhaustion into apprehension, yet you nod your head anyway.

"I may have caught you in the midst of your disarray, but I must admit, I'm curious about what led to it." He steps aside and gestures for you to come inside. To your own house.

"H-He got the upper hand is all." You decide not to comment, moving inside sluggishly. As far as you know, this strange being has no idea of the sins you've committed. You quickly fib.

"He attacked me, actually."

"Oh, how devastating!" He lets out a saddened sigh, a hand over his heart with fake sympathy. "Now, was that before or after you attempted to drive a knife through his chest?"

With a defeated groan, you flop onto the couch.

"What are you? A sleep paralysis demon? A.. nightmare? Am I still asleep?" You grumble, running the possibilities out loud and not expecting a true answer. You actually hoped that it would all go away. That this voice in your head, this hallucination, is just that.

In your head.

"Ooh, I like the sound of that.. A nightmare~ has a nice ring to it wouldn't you say?" He stands in front of you, his hands folded formally behind his back.

"Now. Enough with the compliments. What truly happened, my dear?” When his voice suddenly turns sympathetic, you find yourself actually in need of someone to vent to.

“Well, since you're clearly just a nightmare - or.. something - ” You sit up, take in a deep breath, and with its release, you reveal yourself.

All of you.

Every single animal you've killed to curb your pain, what seems to work and what doesn't, and the previous nights failure. You talk about the number of friends and family you've scared off throughout the years, everything.

“I.. was gonna eat.. him…” You squeak out your final sentence. You've never really said it out loud before. And never in front of someone else. It made your own blood run cold. Not the thought of the act itself, but just sharing it aloud. your eyes stay fixed on your fidgeting hands in your lap when a loud cackle interrupts your anxiousness.

“My word, aren’t you just the cutest basket case? You're lucky to be dealing with a demon of similar tastes.” He hisses his final words, all with a sly smile. He sounds prideful in his admission. His words seem like they're meant to disarm you, and even though he essentially admitted to being a cannibalistic demon, it works.

“Well.. since we have sooo much in common-” Your voice drags, the notion of being similar to this demon feeling strange to mention out loud, “-would you.. help me? With all this..?”

Expecting another laugh, maybe some more teasing, you're met with a confusing expression. His smile is still there, unmoving, but you catch the smallest twinkle in his eye. He stands and faces away. The hope of finding an outlet for your cannibalistic intent starts to dwindle.

Your misplaced disappointment is overtaken by the flickering of lights and the soft tunes of a radio nearby, one that you recognized but were sure had been broken for decades. He turns his head unnaturally, looking over his shoulder to meet you with blackened eyes.

“I would be absolutely delighted.”

-

“Lucky for you, some of your late-night delivery seemed to withstand the flames!”

You follow that transatlantic accent to your kitchen, unamused by his continuous puns and casual speech. This big scary demon friend of yours presents a commically large plate, with a very familiar carcass sitting atop.

He did nothing to make it look any less disturbing than it truly was. the skin was nearly burned off, the smell was just awful, and the shirt was somehow still recognizable through it all.

You cover your mouth in response. The fact that it doesn't smell much different than some of the other carnivorous meals you’ve prepared nauseates you more than the sight of the corpse itself.

“Quite a specimen, very good choice! But, you needed tips, correct?”

All you can think of to respond is a simple nod of your head.

“Then let's get started!” With a snap of his clawed fingers, a sleek black apron covers his suit.

The next few hours were grueling, but.. fun? If you're allowed to call it that. You were given multiple pointers, and sure, they were all quite helpful, but they were in excruciating detail. What certain parts of the body you should pick or avoid was one thing, but discussing what wine pairs with what organs? It's not a conversation you ever thought you'd have.

By the time the meal looks normal, all decorated with spices in a baking pan and in the oven, you instinctively go to do dishes. As you fill the sink and start bringing things over, a little creature has you nearly tripping. You look down, seeing a strange little stitched doll carrying most of the dishes to the sink. No matter how strange it looked, you respond with a curious hum, fully desensitized to it at this point.

“Huh..” is all you can say. You take any remaining dishes and follow suit, plopping it all into the water. The little doll seems to be tugging at your leg when you try to walk off. It's holding its arms up to you, letting out little murmurs that sound restrained by the stitches across its mouth. You hesitate at first, but scoop it up in your arms and place it aside the sink. And it gets to work scrubbing away.

“Damn, you're cute, and you clean? Can I keep you?” You ask it quietly, giving it a quick pat on the head. It seems to smile.

“Quite a delightful little thing, one of my better creations, I must admit.” The response from him seems to scare the poor thing straight. It immediately lowers its head and focuses on cleaning. You scoff at the interaction between the two. if his own toy is scared of him, should you be as well? “That being said, I simply can not part with it. My apologies.”

“Oh, I was kidding. Mostly.” You reply quietly. You hear the first chuckle from him that seems genuine. No ill intent, just a joyous response to your little quip. It felt kinda.. Nice.

-

“So, Mr. Scary Demon Man-” You clear your throat before you speak. “-why are you here, exactly? did I do something to summon you? Or-” He cocks his head to the side at the title, a little twitch to his eye.

“Not at all, my dear. I simply wanted to help you in your little endeavors, from one cannibal to another, Haha!” His tone goes back to that of a salesman. Like he’s trying to convince you he’s something he’s not.

“Well.. thank you, I guess. I don't really understand why you’d want to help me without wanting something in return, though. You don't seem like-”

“-A charitable man? I suppose that’s fair.” He doesn’t give you a chance to reply. “If you’re so desperate to return the favor, why don’t we strike a deal? Just a little one. Between friends.”

You weren’t stupid. His words made it clear that this was his intention from the moment he chose to save your life. You shrunk a bit.

“Sure, between friends.” You let out a sigh, your somewhat chipper attitude immediately fading. He takes no time to be empathetic.

“Good! Now, you seem to have an eye for food. This meal was ideal considering your poor execution.” You can’t stop your eyes from rolling. “And you can’t get meals quite like this where I’m from. How about you keep providing, with my assistance, and I’ll make sure it’s prepared to the best of my abilities. In exchange for all my hard and generous work, I get half the spoils! Seems far more favorable on your end, but I’m feeling rather generous today.”

Where he’s from? You want to question it. You want to know more about him, you want to know -

“What’s your name?” Your sudden questioning leaves him speechless for a moment, but he’s quick to recover his charming smile. “You never told me.”

“Well, considering you won’t need my name if you don’t agree to this little game, how about I throw that in as well? You provide the living flesh, and I’ll handle the rest. And, you’ll get my name.” He stands before you, a bit too close for your comfort, as he reaches his hand out to you. “Call it a deal?”

An ominous green glow surrounds the two of you. It sends some kind of wind through your clothes and hair. His hand is especially bright, and his eyes go back to that frightening black that you experienced previously.

At the end of the day, if this is what you have to do to stifle those damned pains, it doesn't seem all that bad. You extend your hand, instinctively flinching at the seemingly impending danger. But that still doesn't stop you.

“O-Okay.. Deal.” With the touch of his palm against yours, the glow flashes, forcing your body to tense and your eyes to squeeze shut. It only lasts for a moment, though. When you open your eyes, you first examine your connected hands. His hand is huge compared to yours. From this proximity, you can truly take in how unnaturally tall he is.

Attempting to tug your hand back, his grip tightens, forcing your hand to his lips for a quick kiss to your knuckles. An outdated and surprisingly intimate action leaves you a bit flustered.

“My name is Alastor. It’s been a pleasure, my dear~”

-

And so, your transactional deal went on, right until your demise. You used a similar tactic to bring more meals to your doorstep, finding a handful of poor saps online. You weren’t exactly sure what he meant when he offered his assistance, but when the time came, a strength took over your body that you never experienced before. There were no more shaky hands or sympathy. Your aim was always true, and it was just so easy. Any impending dangers or possible retaliations were alerted to you by a subtle whisper, a voice, coming from just behind you. It was startling at first, but quickly became a comfort.

When it came to preparing the food, which Alastor said he’d handle, you’d essentially leave your victim's remains in the kitchen and would come back to a meal ready for the oven. Sometimes, you’d leave the body as is, limp on the couch, or sprawled on the floor, only when you were too exhausted to deal with the clean-up. On nights like that, you’d wake up to a completed meal the next morning. You liked to picture him going through your home, rolling up his sleeves and wearing that apron, cleaning things up, and cooking in your kitchen how he did that first night.

That being said, you didn't normally see his physical form. There was the lent strength and whispers during your hunts, but other than that, contact seemed to nearly cease. Why was that upsetting you? You cursed yourself for being too much of a romantic - for making this seem like anything more than a delusion you conjured up to make this whole action easier for you.

And that pain? That constant hunger that was never sufficed nearly went away. In fact, you’ve never felt fuller.

He did return on especially rare occasions. You never complained, and you attempted to hide your excitement when you'd catch him lurking in the corner of your eye.

Sometimes, it was to cook for you again. Despite the deal being in full swing, you would ask him to show you some of the recipes. Normally, it would just appear, looking delicious and homemade as always, yet you still pestered him to show you how to prepare some things. He always acted burdened by it, but seeing him cooking felt.. Domestic. Like, when he was cooking, he was truly in his element. It made it easy to forget what he was, which you found yourself questioning less and less. It simply didn't matter anymore.

One particular visit was late into the night. He actually woke you up from the racket, which had never happened before. Stumbling out of your bed, expecting to see police raiding your home or something worse, you’re instead met with a swaying radio demon and a shattered vase. Whenever he was around, soft music would play from your busted radio, a contrasting notion to the fumbling man in front of you now.

“Alastor?” You call out, a wave of relief hitting you and bringing the baseball bat from your hands to the floor. “What the hell are you doing? It’s like.. three in the morning..” The realization of the time makes the previous adrenaline seep out of you.

“Ha-ha! Isn’t that an interesting concept? The Devil’s Hour. Throw some religious implications, and it drives people mad! In reality, it’s just when your feeble body is at its most vulnerable.” He rambles on, spilling the drink from his bottle as he exaggerates his actions. He walks to you as he goes on, his body still swaying. “When your little fragile human heart reaches its lowest speed. When waking you would cause.. distress.” He goes on, his words suddenly sounding melancholic.

“Your breathing is erratic.” He adds, staring intensely at your heaving chest. “And you are hot to the touch-” The back of his claws trace the apple of your cheek, where even you can feel the heat radiating from your skin. Because his voice has no filter. You’ve never heard it like that before. You’ve never heard him sound so human.

His hand traces down your face to press against your chest. He’s feeling your heart. And it’s beating erratically.

“Your heart is fast. Are you distressed?” He leans in closer, to the point where you can smell the alcohol on his breath. “Do I make you distressed?”

In a flustered panic, you push him away. His closeness, his touch, it all threw you off guard.

“N-no, I’m just tired. You woke me up in the middle of the night, asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest, watching him laugh and struggle to find his bearings after being shoved. With a groan, you pull him by his slender arm over to the couch. He sits down with a thud, and you sit a careful distance next to him.

“That is what is so refreshing about you, my dear.” He lets out a dreamy sigh, and you pull the whiskey from his hand before he can break anything else. “Why - you have no idea who you’re dealing with, I could be a powerful demon overlord,” He slurs his words. “But, to you, I’m just your sweet radio demon~” He sings out.

Alastor leans into you, uncharacteristically tapping your nose. You swat his hand away, forcing another loud chuckle from him. He stays leaning forward, even seated beside you, he towers over you. Your wide eyes meet his.

“Even your eyes show no sign of fear. How curious.” You stay like this a little longer. His breath still reeks of expensive whiskey, but you can’t seem to tear your eyes from him. You’re terribly focused on keeping your distance, but he doesn't seem to have the same concern.

With a sly smile, he removes his coat and flips to his back, laying his head in your lap. With his long legs crossed over each other and hanging very much off the couch, you’re almost nervous to touch him. He wasn’t especially touchy, only doing so when necessary; fingers brushing against fingers, a hand on the shoulder for a mere second- why can you remember each moment so vividly? Why is it so fresh in your mind?

“Alastor, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at home? or.. wherever you are when you're not here?” That’s still something you’ve questioned. You weren’t one to pester him so insistently, wery on losing the good thing you have going on.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure! Be careful with your alcohol, my dear! Ha-haa!” He slurs out with a grin. “I suppose.. I prefer to be here.”

“What? Why? If you’re some powerful overlord, don’t you have somewhere better to be getting sloshed?” You scoff, keeping your eyes away from his head that was still perched comfortably in your lap. He seems to even nuzzle into your thighs a bit, and it only flushes you more. You take an unpermitted swig of his confiscated drink.

“Hm! Well, I can’t exactly get meat this fresh in Hell-” He taps his chin in thought to your rhetorical question that clearly went right over his head. “-besides! It’s not nearly as nice without you.” He sounds so matter of fact, so sure of his words. You hold your breath, suddenly reliving every moment together before this.

You’d chat and joke around in the kitchen, but you’ve really learned more about him than you thought. How he sews together those strange little creatures. And he seems so proud of them, despite their clear fear of his presence. You noticed he always puts some sort of spice in the meals he cooks, and that even if it's too much, you eat it anyway. How he simply hates getting dirty despite his occupation. He rolls up his sleeves, has that dumb apron, and uses those little toys of his to keep clean.

You loved it.

You’ve done nothing but enjoy every moment with him. You don’t need to know what he is to know that.

Wait, did he say Hell?

“You���re from Hell? There’s a Hell??” With a more shocked exclamation than feared, you finally look down at him. He’s too far gone, humming along to the music, he barely hears your questions. With a clearly defeated sigh, you brush his hair from his face. He winces from the action, his smile wavering but not breaking under your touch.

“Ah, I wish I knew how you survive this cozy little life.” His voice is quiet and mumbled.

You.

I can live this way because of you.

He manages to finish off the bottle with one more swig - when did he take that back?

Your thoughts begin to wander, absent-mindedly twirling strands of hair through your fingers, raking your fingers down his scalp, only to startle yourself with the sensation of animalistic ears. And they’re twitching. Whether it be your reaction or his, it seems to force a little yelp from you, so you reel your hand away.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you, darling.. Could you - or.. You can.. Continue. If you’d like.” His voice had dropped that strange filter again. You feel woozy. That whiskey you had shared, maybe it was strong. Or.. it was the middle of the night, you were sure you were just tired. You spiraled to come up with any reasonable excuse other than developing feelings for a Hellbound demon. You wonder if you-

Oh, you’re definitely going to Hell.

But, could it be something to look forward to?

Your intimate thoughts cloud your mind, leaving your hand mindlessly petting a literal demon. Your fingers combed through his hair, delicately clawing up the ears and pinching the softness at the tip of each one. Despite your thorough and elaborate massage, your mind has wandered to how a relationship with a possible hallucination of a demon would work out. But that's ridiculous, isn’t it?

“Alastor, can I ask you-” your words are brought to a halt and your eyes drop. A quiet hum of satisfaction, leaving a barely conscious radio demon, who’s head still sat in your lap. With a curse under your breath you decide you're trapped.

There was absolutely no chance of escape. What, were you supposed to wake him? What if you upset a powerful overlord demon, or whatever he claimed to be? Albeit uncomfortable, you force yourself to sleep. Enjoy it while you can, who knows if it's even real?

You didn't see him for awhile after that.

-

Alastor was a poinient man. He never missed a pick up before. So when you realized the meat you've portioned off for him was still sitting in your fridge, you start to worry. You're not exactly sure why, you’ve pushed any and every intimate thought from your mind.

This is purely transactional.

Even though his portion had gone untouched for a few days.. A few weeks, if you really think about it, you already had a date set with another victim.

It went on as usual. A dumb hunk of meat thinks he’s all that until you’re straddling him. You decide to stick to what you know works; a knife to the heart.

You mapped exactly where to plant it, as he fiddles with your top, and with a raised arm, you go to claim your next victim.

There was no warning.

There was supposed to be a warning.

The next thing you know, you're pinned to the floor, your wrist being gripped so tightly you have no other option than to scream and lose your grip on the knife.

Your date took no time. No hesitation.

The last thing you see is the opposing view. A stranger straddling your body with a knife held high above his head.

It seems so quiet.

And it's awful.

Where was the warning?

If anything, you should've at least heard Alastor's voice telling you how to avoid this. You always do. A slight pang of worry hits you, but it's quickly overtaken by anger.

With a final yelp that's fueled with frustration, hurt, and a broken heart, you met your demise quickly and alone.

By the time you've come to, you're surrounded by a handful of black eyed children. You immediately scramble backward, hitting your back against a brick wall. You’d notice your surroundings if these little scavengers werent eyeing you with an innocent curioustity. You let out a hiss, holding a hand over your eye. A streak of blackened blood comes from it, your palm thoroughly stained with it.

“You must be new~”

“You’re very handsome!”

“How did you die?”

A bombard of tiny voices and questions go straight over your head, a ringing in your ears forcing your mind to go hazy.

“Alright, give ‘em some space, kids!” A sweet voice seems to bring you back. You look down to your seated body. Your skin is a deathly gray, and your top is stained with your own blood. It’s still red. “Don’t overwhelm the poor thing, I’m sure they’re quite shaken!”

Your eyes then trace up the silhouette of a vintage looking entourage, then to a sharp-toothed smile. The woman stands before you, a hand held out to you.

Her eyes are just as black and her skin is just as pale as those children that now whisper and giggle to eachother nearby.

It didn’t take you long to realize your misfortune.

You died.

You’re upset sure, but you find that you’re mostly angry. None of this wouldve happened if you- if he-

“Come on, cutie! Let’s get you cleaned up.” Her considerate smile clears your mind almost immediately. You don’t hesitate accepting her assistance.

-

“He was supposed to help me. He said he would be there for me! I died because of him..!”

A strained smile and a quick nod is the only response you get to your angered rambling. The kind face that scooped you off the streets was Rosie, one of the most powerful overlords in Hell, who just so happens to own most the souls in Cannibal town.

Lucky you.

She did exactly as she said, having her fun and playing a bit of dress up with you. It wasn't exactly your style, but there were more concerning things when it came to your appearance. Your eyes were just as black as Rosie’s. As those children who have been following you around.. In fact, most residents of cannibal town had this feature.

You really are in Hell.

Right where you belong.

Right along side people who are just like you. It almost felt.. Comfortable.

You confided in her, going on and on about some jerk of a demon who broke a promise that cost you your life. How he had been helping you in fights, saved your life a number of times, taught you how to cook, showed up drunk to simply sit in your lap, then just fucking disapeared when you needed him most. Your face was turning red, from anger or the way you gushed about him, Rosie couldn’t quite decipher.

What wasn’t comfortable was the period clothing you were put in. But according to Rosie, it’s Perfect! What a doll!

“Is Alastor. The radio demon?” She completes your sentence with a sigh, standing to tower over you and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, hun, but no one’s seen him in quite a while.. If i’m being entirely honest with you, he’s a dear friend of mine.” You instantly tense at her words. You just went on a rant about how shitty he was, only to find out he’s disapeared with no explanation. Maybe it was a good reason. A good enough reason to leverage your own life? You aren’t sure.

“I have to find him!” You finally say, as if a lightbulb switched in your head. He seemed so unattainable all these years, but now? You’re in his house. “Miss Rosie! Can you help me? His name-”

“I can’t say he didn’t wrong you, but he’s a man of his word, hun.. If he’s not holding up his promises, then he might be in some real trouble.. ” You hear her voice crack, yet she doesn't let her smile drop.

Another factor to consider that Alastor might have bitten more than he can chew, yet she still sympathises with you. You nearly knock the wind out of her with your arms encircling her small waist. Your head rests just at her chest. You can’t see her face, but her arms are around you almost instantly.

-

As you got settled in town, you did actually use the skills that Alastor had taught you throughout your lifetime. You understood why he made your previous deal. Demon flesh was just fine, but you really needed to spice it up to be anything special. And even then, it still couldn't compare to fresh, living, meat.

You started off just making and baking your own food. Then, when one cannibalistic child asked to try some, they told their friends, who told others.

After a while, you were cooking for half the town. You had a line every morning out of your own home. Once Rosie took notice, it was time for you to make a deal.

“Why can’t I sign a contract with you? You’ve done so much for me, I trust you with my soul.” You had taken Rosie out for dinner, where you planned to discuss a potential deal. Even with you barely being in Hell for a year, you heard plenty about Extermination Day, contracts, dealing in souls, all of it. You did your research. You talked to some of the townsfolks and saw no real downside in giving your soul away. Your proposal seems to surprise her, though.

“You still have your soul? Didn’t you make a deal with Alastor?” She asks, quieting her voice when she says his name, as if just the sound of it would make you upset. It only makes your eye twitch, though, just at the thought of the whole ordeal.

“I did, but he didn't say anything about my soul.. Was he.. Supposed to take it?” You question.

“Well.. he’s made deals like that before, favors for favors, right?” You nod. “But to go all the way to Earth just for some food? That’s.. Not like him…” Rosie seems to be lost in thought, trying to piece together his intentions. You clear your throat, and attempt to calmly bring her back. You slide a tupperware container of lady fingers you had made just before this.

“I want a restaurant, Rosie. I’ve been keeping an eye on that abandoned shop in the town square. I can feed everyone in town if you’ll let me. And.. protection, of course. Would that work?”

She opens the box with a sparkle in her black eyes, almost immediately popping one of the delicate treats to her lips. With a hum of satisfaction and a snap of her fingers, the glowing golden paper floats in front of your eyes.

“It’s a deal, darling!”

-

You could barely call it a restaurant at first, but you were elated. Rosie granted you some extra hands to make deliveries and assist in the kitchen. Everything seemed to be going your way. Your first extermination day went by quickly. For some reason, angels weren’t destroying everything in town. And you and your little shop were both safe, untouched, really.

You had a steady job, loving customers, and a residency near the center of town. You were almost surprised how having a shared interest, in eating human flesh, can bring people together. And after just a few years, you had a community.

You had a family.

Something you never really though you’d have, in life or death; A home.

Things were going so well. This was supposed to be your happy ending. It had been a few years since you had signed the contract, and you still feel satisfied with your decision. You could really be yourself here.

In Cannibal Town.

In Hell.

It made you laugh sometimes, how much joy the underworld brought you.

On a say that seemed like any other, you had sold out your stock for the day early, and went on to send the rest of yout employees home, when you heard a ruckus near the gazebo.

The screech of a microphone, and a very distant agitated Susan, is all you can truly hear from where you are. You drop everything to join the crowd.

It was the princess of Hell.. You weren’t one to keep up with politics or media, there was no need for you. You entertained yourself plenty just by residing in town. But, you managed to hear her blow up before being dragged away. A tall, rugged figure takes their place, ready to entertain the crowd while the Princess gathered herself.

“Come one, come all! While our little princess is collecting herself, who would appreciate a quick song, hm?”

“There is no fucking way..” You mutter to no one but yourself.

Alastor.

He holds his hand up to his ear, waiting patiently for the adoring crowd to praise his presence before he went on. You knew Rosie was a friend of his, he was a cannibal afterall, but for the entire town to love him just as much? Including Susan?

It’s absurd.

He went on to perform some showtune, one that sounded familiar to you. The crowd excitedly surrounds the pavilion, dragging you nearly to the front. You held a look of disgust. A look of betrayal.

You didnt want to see him, you told yourself. Things were perfect as is, you felt no need to repair a relationship with your imaginary friend you conjured up while alive.

Although, you never thought you had to. He had been gone for years, he nearly became just a passing thought.

An unreasonable part of you stayed put. A part of you wants him to see you and recognize you, to remember what he had forgotten. You stood with your arms crossed, your heart beating rapidly just at the sight of him.

He looks entirely the same, completely unphased. You’ve changed so much visually, and you’re happier now. Bolder. You’re not shying down now.

He catches your eyes.

The music screeches to a halt, sounding like a record player needle dragging across the disc. You’re holding back a smile, almost proud that you were able to stop him in his tracks. This had to be the first time he’s thought of you in over seven years.

And stops singing.

Lucky for him, the princess is finally ready to make her own point. You stick around, not exactly paying attention to her lyrics. You keep your face of disdain strong, stepping away and flinching at any advance Alastor would make to reel in the crowd. He seems to distract himself just fine until Charlie whisks away the crowd. Again, you're firmly planted in your spot.

Alastor turns to you, much more apparent of who he’s dealing with now that you stand alone from the crowd. His ears are flat against his head, and his smile is turned at the corners. His eyes seem to dart back and forth as if he’s deciding whether or not to stay. To be with you.

Oh, he’s nervous.

You’ve never seen him nervous before. It feels good. You’re making the almighty Radio Demon nervous. You smile just slightly. But not a smile between old friends, but a smile in response to his realization that he fucked up.

Despite your delay, Alastor continues on with the rest of the parade. Your body immediately lost all tension once he leaves.

-

“Well, well! I knew I recognized that menu. I was ready to tear apart some poor sinner for using my recipes.” A familiar, antagonizing voice echoes throughout your little empty shop.

You turn on your heels, almost startled by the sudden intrusion.

Almost.

But, you'd be lying if you said you weren't hoping for it.

Just a little.

Of course, he'd come back. Maybe to make another lowly deal. Or to get you to do more menial tasks for him, to flaunt his power and authority.

“Yeah, well.. when you've been left for dead, and all you have is your skills, you do what you have to, to survive.” You snap, turning your back to him to continue wiping off an already spotless counter. “Plus, it never hurts to marginalize.”

“I've actually tried some of your food here.. Hm! And I hadn't the slightest idea who prepared such a meal. You've gotten better, I'll give you that! Such a small world.” He says with a nostalgic sigh. You can hear his heels clicking throughout the empty store, circling the room before eventually approaching you.

How can he speak to you like you were still.. aquitanced?

“I hope whatever kept you busy these seven years was worth my life.” You mutter. You weren't sure if you wanted him to hear that or not. Maybe if he did, he'd finally apologize or-

“Oh, it was! A nice little sabbatical is exactly what I needed.” You quickly turn to see him polishing his claws against his coat and smiling quite brightly. “I will say it is a pleasure to be meeting you here! I'm glad you settled in so easily.”

“You killed me, Alastor! You were supposed to keep me safe.. and now I'm dead! Because you disappeared without a word!” You start to scold him, finally hitting a breaking point. All he does is scoff at you.

“Oh please, I didn't even take your soul. And it's not like you'd end up anywhere else if you were to perish later on.” He speaks so casually about it all.

But, you were ready to cry. To kick and scream at his arrogance.

The feeling of sharp fingers engulfing your shoulders leaves you suddenly tense and puts your murderous thoughts on hold. He's vanished from in front of you and now looms over you, his eyes meeting yours from over your shoulder.

“Plus, you seem to be quite happy here! Why don't we just call it even then, hm?”

He can not be serious.

You pull away from him, the tears welling in your eyes finally letting loose.

“Alastor, stop!” You yelp, turning to face him. “That’s.. so unfair! You broke a promise! And you-” you hold your finger out to scold him even more, but you feel your body simply going slack. “-you hurt me.. I just.. thought that after all that time, after that night, you'd care a little more..” You look up to him, in the hopes of being met with some sort of sympathy. But his unnatural smile goes unwavering. You rub your arm awkwardly, losing your confidence as your words turn more vulnerable without your realizing.

“Oh, I can feel your pain, not to worry dear. I truly meant no harm when I couldn't hold up my end of the deal.” He's smiling and drawing out his words, only setting off a sense of unease within you. You finally let out a shaky sigh.

“With everything you've done for me.. I thought that.. you might've liked being around me…” You let out, your voice running slightly ragged from the previous shouts. “I thought we were having a good time! Then after all this?” You grow an uncertain smile.

A previous sight that made you giddy before only brings you dread now. His ears are flat, his eyes struggle to meet yours. He's losing his composure.

“I wouldn't be surprised if you wanted it to happen.” You laugh through your words, your hands raking through your hair in a stressed manner. In your little pits of passion, you don't get the chance to see his wavering smile, the grimace on his face, any of it. When your words are met with silence, though, that's when you finally look up to him.

He's nervous, again.

“Oh.. my-” your sentence barely starts before he attempts to cover his slip up.

“Now let's calm down, I really didn't mean for- I didn't intend-”

“Isn’t there rules to this? Were you ever allowed to meddle with my life in the first place - let alone - be on Earth??”

“-God! You killed me on purpose?? Just so I could come down here to do your bitch work?” You snap, your laugh becomes delirious and your tears betray the anger you're meant to be showing.

He’s scrambling for a witty reply, his expression finally showing his true intentions for the first time in a long while. He’s speechless.

“I’m such an idiot.. Of course, you never cared. Bastard.” You mumble your words to the room, losing any fear of him hearing your insults.

Your vulnerability sends a strange shiver down his spine. One he’s never felt before, one that makes his chest ache and his muscles tense.

“Well - Now, let's just talk for a moment before you-” Alastor extends his hand out to your turned back, but it never reaches you. A delicate grip takes his wrist, bringing him to a full stop. He stops, unnaturally snapping his neck to see who would dare disrupt the Radio Demon himself.

His ears flatten against his head, and with a sudden disbelief in what he’s seeing, his eyes return to their normal crimson.

Rosie towers over his hunched form, her eyes stern.

♡♡♡

“Al, sweetheart, you gotta go. You're disturbing my client.”

I love when Alastor fucks up and found out

THIS IS A TWO PARTER I PROMISE

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[atarathegreat]

Scary Wife Privileges Tokyo Revengers

Featuring: Chifuyu Matsuno, Mitsuya Takashi, Hakkai Shiba

You were getting tired of it, hearing Chifuyu complain about Takemichi and how the man runs things. "He'll come back, I know he will, but it's just aggravating right now."

When he talked about his boss he made little sense. You never understood his ramblings about "any day now." and "It's been twelve years." Some days it was too much and you started an argument with Chifuyu, an argument where he constantly refused to tell you anything about what he meant. It was pissing you off. Majorly. You wanted Chifuyu to be happy, but when he came home exhausted and angry every night, you didn't feel that he was happy.

His friends greeted you as you walked through the big building, smiles and waves from both sides as you walked to your husband's office. Chifuyu had been in a particularly bad mood the whole week and you hadn't made it any better by causing fights when he came home. Remorse was one of the many emotions you were feeling, topped with a cute little bow to compound everything and stamp it in like concrete.

"Fuyu," You spoke softly, a way you hadn't spoken to him in months, "do you have time?"

It was in his eyes, the fact that something had already happened was painted into the dark circles under his lashes. It made your heart lurch as he smiled sadly at you. "Always have time for you, baby." Chifuyu held a hand out to pull you in as you approached, "As long as you didn't come here to fight, in that case, I'm in a meeting." His half hearted joke made you sigh, "Already, today?"

His chest heaved with a sigh, "Trashed his own office. Don't worry, he wasn't mad at me this time."

There was no time for a response as the very man exploded into your husband's office behind you. He was on edge, clearly, but you didn't care about what he had to say. Months of anger from seeing your husband drink until he fell asleep with his face buried in your chest just poured out.

"Shut up. No one cares about whatever bullshit you're about to spout. Is this how you treat all of your workers?" You snapped, hands on your hips as you chastised him, "You're the exact definition of an asshole and so help you if my husband comes home angry again."

Takemichi looked caught off guard, a stark contrast to the man you'd not only met at your wedding, but the man in the stories Chifuyu brought home. He stumbled over his words, but you continued to chew into him as Chifuyu hugged around your waist and smiled into your shirt.

Mitsuya was used to the nitpicking his clients did, often smiling and agreeing, even if he didn't. He wasn't the type to retaliate because of a bad mood, especially since it was going to be something the other person wore and he would never have to look at it again.

And yet he kept having to send you silent glares and pointed looks to keep you from speaking up as you watched him work.

"And maybe if there was more detail in the train-"

"Do you know how long he's spent on this ugly garbage?" You spoke clearly, your nose in a book so you couldn't see Mitsuya glaring at you, "All the detail on the sleeves took two months anyways. And that's not including the beading along the end. Can't you appreciate that?"

The client stared at you, open mouthed and shocked. But you kept on, "To ask for more detail when he's already fixing the fabric to your measurements is... Stupid."

Mitsuya sighed, "Apologies for her."

"Don't apologize for me." When did you get off the couch? "How about you let him finish this piece so he can come home to his family at a decent time, yeah? His daughters are tired of going to sleep without Daddy tucking them in."

The club was loud. Too loud. You cursed under your breath at your husband for bringing you along with him. It wasn't your vibe, the whores and half naked bartenders that walked around while rich, old men played card games. Your dress, the one Hakkai told you to wear so you would fit in while still being modest, was swaying around and scratching at your ankles. People were staring at you as you walked through with your heels in hand. It wasn't your fault, the shoes were hurting your feet and Hakkai had disappeared almost an hour ago. You would've already headed home if you knew Hakkai wouldn't throw a fit.

"Black Dragon trash." You hissed under your breath when you finally saw him. He was laughing with his guys, seemingly ignoring the woman massaging his shoulders. Hakkai zoned in on your hips as you straddled his lap, your chest pressing into his face as you got in the woman's face, "Hands off, unless you want to give hand jobs with stumps for the rest of your life."

The fear you instilled in the woman was attractive to Hakkai, and his men noticed as well. It wouldn't have been the first time you'd left them with raging hard ons, and Hakkai sent a glare at all of them.

"Go rub up on someone else's husband, or so help me god the only use that pretty little mouth will have is sucking food through a straw."

[heeseung-min]

hii your writing is so good. hehehe do you mind if I request like. y/n had an amnesia and found out everything. that his husband wasn’t actually his real husband. (you can choose between enha member hehe)

[13:05]

"Good morning, sweetheart."

You smiled and felt your husband was hugging your body from behind. You were cooking fried rice kimchi as meal for breakfast. Usually Jay would be doing all of that since he always in charge of preparing the foods but you wanted to do it today. You let Jay snuggled and left some kisses on your shoulders before finally turn off the stove and serve the rice.

"I will be late today. Need to finish some assignments. Don't wait for me, okay?"

"Okay. I just left some dinner for you later."

"Sure. What are you planning to do today?"

"Uhm, I don't know. Maybe just watch some movies and cleaning the house."

Both of you continue talking while enjoying the breakfast. It's like a routine that you guys would do before Jay will go to work. After you and him shared goodbye kisses, you started to do the chores from doing the laundry until cleaning every rooms.

When you reached Jay' small office, you were a bit curious why this whole time he didn't let you to clean the room but today he gave you permission when you asked him. You didn't think too much and just open the door and looked around the room. It was a little bit dusty and messy with bunch of papers from his work. Maybe that's why he didn't let you clean the room.

You separated the papers from important to unimportant documents and discarded the unimportant one and sweep the dust on the table and the book shelves. You opened the window to ventilate the room and sat on his chair to rest yourself for few minutes. Your eyes caught the photo album that was on the table and slide off the pages watching pictures of you and Jay going to some places. Until you reached the last page where it was unfamiliar photo that you never see before but it has you in it. You were standing with a man but the face has been crossed with red pen made it difficult to detect the person.

"Why I never know about this picture?"

You decided to keep the picture and ask Jay when he's back from work. You continue to clean the room until you stumbled to a box and made it the things inside it fell to the floor.

"Ah shit. Erghh, I just clean it."

You quickly took all the papers and documents and put it back inside the box but your attention suddenly attracted to the specific paper that contains your own picture.

MISSING!!! IF YOU FOUND HER PLEASE CALL US!!!

You read the detail on the paper. This was three years ago before you married Jay. What was happening actually? You didn't have any clue about it. You started rummaging the boxes to find more clue and dumbfounded when you saw a marriage picture of you and someone else but not Jay. You suspected this was the same guy that you saw on the picture that has been crossed on his face.

Is the guy your real husband?

What about Jay?

"What are you doing there, sweetheart?"

You startled at the voice. He shouldn't be back at this time. Your hands started to shake when the nervous feeling hit you. Jay walked closer when you didn't respond to him. You felt scared when you finally connected the dots.

"Let's go out, sweetheart. My shift done early today."

"Who are you?"

Jay tilted his head and staring confusedly at you. He thought you were joking so he wanted to pull you closer to hug you but you stepped back instead.

"What are you playing right now, baby?"

"Answer me! Why I found my wedding picture with someone else?! What did you do to me three years ago??!!!"

Jay sighed and rolled his eyes. He cursed to himself for not throwing the box out.

"You aren't supposed to know about that, y/n."

"...what?"

You didn't have enough time to react when you felt Jay hit your head from the side and made your head collided harshly to the table. The last thing you saw was Jay's face and you felt he was gently carressing your hair.

"I did this for you."

__________________

__________________

When you woke up, you were at the hospital with Jay sleeping beside you while holding your hand. He jolted when he felt you were moving.

"Baby, are you okay?"

He asked as he caressed your hair and let you leaned closer. You didn't remember anything that caused you to be in here and you felt hurt when you tried it so you just shake your head.

"I'm good but how can I be at here?"

"The doctor said you fainted due to the stress. I'm sorry for not taking care of you."

"No no no you are doing good enough already."

Jay smiled when you hugged his body. He adjusted his body so both of you can fit on the bed. He pat your back until you finally sleep again on his arms.

And the cycle will repeat again.

You will live as the wife of Jay.

And this time Jay will burn every single thing that related to your past.

Man that was hard😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😦 yall better enjoy it or i will haunt you guys down

Taglist: @stacey-stonem @duolingofanaccount @obsessed1with1straykids @huggyuvita @rowretro @eeunoia @soireegurl

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

random hoeing:

Curtis slowly standing up, stretching into his full, enormous height

Read Your Book

A Curtis and Honey Drabble

You were currently in one of your favorite spots. Well, maybe more like the second favorite. Your actual favorite place was under Curtis with your legs wrapped around him, but that just wasn't an option right now. So you lounged on the couch, your head pillowed on the arm while your nose was stuck in your newest smutty book that arrived in the mailbox today.

And you were so excited about this one, the ending of a duet, you had ordered this one midway through the first one, knowing you were gonna need to read the rest as soon as you could get your hands on it.

You hadn't moved from the couch since getting home after work, your eyes scanning the pages, filing away little clues and curiously wondering if you stumbled on a new kink that the story was heavily playing into.

It toyed with some dark little corner of your mind, wondering if there was something you should be worried about or should you embrace it?

Midthought, while still scanning the scene you were questioning, a hand appeared in front of you, gripping the top of your book and easing it down till you could see over the top into Curtis's face, a amused grin lifting on one side of his mouth and a teasing glint in his eyes. "Really into your book Honey?" You lowered the book to your lap, seeing him squatting down next to the couch, still in his work clothes, so you knew he just got home.

"Hey! I didn't even hear you come in." You said a bit sheepishly.

"I know, I called your name twice till I saw you curled up on the couch. What's got all your attention?" You turned the book so he could study the cover, his eyes gazing over the dark cover. "Hmm, looks like one of those fun dark romances you like."

"Yeah, I haven't put it down since I got home." You glanced over your shoulder to where the old clock sat among the books on the built in shelves. "And I should probably get dinner started." You flipped the book onto the back of the couch, letting it keep your page safe. Pushing to start getting up.

Curtis shook his head and he pushed up to lean over you, easily pushing you back to laying your head on the arm of the couch and staring up at him in surprise. "Nu-uh Pretty Girl." His arm braced against the back of the couch, his free hand ghosting down your side till his hand landed on the curve of your hip, giving a hard affectionate squeeze.

It sent a thrill through you, almost feeling like it was a possessive touch, the only man who was allowed to. You have had your head stuck into too many of these books you told yourself at your thoughts.

"Let me go get cleaned up and changed, then I will make dinner. You just keep reading your book Sweet Girl. Then you can fill me in on all the spicy details when we're in bed." He smirked at your widened gaze, wiggling his brows at you, which made you laugh at his playful attitude.

"And ruin the book for you?" You joked back as you sat back, tilting your face up enough to nip at his lips when he hovered in closer, sharing a kiss. He finished pushing up, and up, up, up. Your eyes roved up his tall body, feeling your mouth start to water at how damn good he looked. His arms stretched over his head, arching a bit to loosen the knots in his back that his previous squatting had caused.

Fuck he was tall, big, strong, his full height towering over you now given how you were laying on the couch and you had to tip your head back to look up at him. He always had that uncanny ability to make you feel small, a hard thing to accomplish since your past relationships you always felt to big, to much for your partner.

But not with Curtis and right now he felt so large, so powerful. You blew out a breath where you had been holding it. "You know I wanna know..." His hand came down to brush his fingers along your face till his hand snapped to your neck, circling his hand around your throat.

Your heart picked up speed, arousal making your thighs clenched, resisting the urge to rub them together, anything to relieve that sudden ache building between your thighs. "... all those filthy thoughts going through your mind, so we can discuss if we wanna try them out."

You gave a nod, a slight one as his large hand was still at your throat. "Good Girl." He rumbled out deeply, placing one last kiss on your forehead before leaving to go upstairs, calling down from the top of the stairs. "I saw the cover had a mask, you should really give that some thought. Maybe a ghost face... or I could borrow a motorcycle helmet if you're more into that Honey."

You were alone once more, fully letting out your breath in a whispy moan of want. "Fuck that man doing that to me." You muttered and at the end of the couch came a rather loud judging meow. Lifting your head, you spotted Binx giving you the most bored look, his gaze slowly blinking at you, as if he couldn't believe how you were acting. "Don't you even start with me Binx!" You grabbed at your book and shoved your face back in it, going back to reading and properly ignoring the cat.

[put-them-thangs-away]

while i figure that out, not sure if anyone has done it yet, but i want to do a little dive into the basics of the tarot cards used in this jack & joker episode, now that i actually have a moment and can do more than just the basic off the top of my head readings. i’ll be using the golden thread tarot deck mostly because i like how concise it is and also its more accessible to me right now underneath my sleeping dog than my shelf of decks in my room lmao. this is gonna be,,,, real long probably so all the details will be under the cut, if you wanna join me for my rambling:

fun little sidenote before i get started: when i went to begin discussing why i love the use of tarot and nang’s characterization specifically, my card of the day that i drew was the Queen of Swords which is like 100000% The Nang Card™️ lol [complexity, perceptive, clear mindedness etc.]

“a woman of immense complexity, sometimes considered cold-hearted, but also sharp of mind and wit, independent and possessing great powers of organization and analysis.” i won’t go down the rabbit hole of sword suits as a whole bc that’s not the point of this post and so far the show hasn’t gone into minor arcana, so i’m just gonna say HMMMMM very inch resting timing,,,,, anyways,,,

now, of course i have to start with joke’s card and its myriad of double meanings. in just about any piece of media, if you see The Fool card it should automatically be flagged as a red herring. it’s meant for you to look at it and take it at face value based on the words and image…. much like our four little idiots did when first shown their cards. like JOKE YOU GOT THE FOOL BECAUSE YOU’RE A DUMBASS LOL! and he’s the joker so of course he would also be the fool, yes? unfortunately for our little baby clown, the actual symbolism of the card is childlike innocence and naivety, often to their own detriment. it speaks of blank slates, new beginnings, and the start of a journey. “he does not know the dangers that can beset him during his travels, and thus he stumbles forward with complete optimism, never suspecting that he may be walking in a thin tight rope.” oof yikes. sound familiar? nang rly read that boy for filth huh,,,, aside from the obvious heavy handed post-prison clean slate, we’ve also got the metaphor connected to jack’s forgiveness and starting their relationship over. there’s a lot more to be said here as well about how naive joke can be when thinking he’s doing the right thing and that his choices are for the sake of someone else, without clearly seeing the consequences their may be for that person as a result of his actions. at the risk of Never Shutting Up About It, i will have to make myself move on.

i’ll get into tattoo’s card next because it’s really interesting to me that he was assigned The World, which I kind of would have thought would be a card assigned to jack instead. i see what they were going for in this episode with it, i think, but it felt a bit shallow in comparison, so there may be more in relation to this that we have yet to see. as The Fool is the first card (0) in the major arcana, The World is the final card (21). this card symbolizes an ending of a cycle of life, specifically before the beginning of a new cycle of life. it’s an indicator of major and inescapable change. throughout this episode, we see the shift in tattoo’s heart and priorities being held up in comparison to their past heist through some pretty straightforward parallels, so from that angle, The World makes perfect sense. (especially since one reading of The World when in reverse is inertia & stagnation) tattoo wanting to run in and save joke when he thinks he’ll be caught in the heist is our window in to see The World changing. that being said i find it interesting that this card would be chosen for him since it sort of,,,, kickstarts the journey for The Fool and is generally somewhat,,,, final. so i’m just reeeaaaalllllyyyy hoping that this does not mean tattoo has to actually end his cycle in any way other than metaphorical for the other to continue. the man has grown on me, what can i say? 😭 we’re just gonna ignore all those warning bells in my head and choose to go with the “accomplishment and fulfillment from both inner and outer sources” reading. yup.

then we’ve got arun, whose card is The Moon, which is double fun because arun’s name means dawn/sunrise. there’s a lot of meaning that could be extrapolated here, but based on tattoo’s card seeming on surface level to be about the state of his heart and his involvement in this little found family, i’m going to guess that arun’s is the same. The Moon card symbolizes intuition, the unconscious, illusion, and deception. it can be read as a signal of something being not as it appears, a truth you cannot admit to yourself, instincts that we have buried in our unconscious, among other things. this card being chosen for arun actually actively makes me more nervous than tattoo getting The World lol. if we choose to read it at surface value, could just be that in this heist he had to follow intuition, and got himself turned around in the process (eagle statue etc), or just generally that he did not previously appear capable, but here he is helping this mission be pulled off. with the opening scene of arun crying about missing his dad and that,,,, not really getting resolved actually,,,,,, that makes me wonder about some alternate reading options, but like,,,,,, i don’t want to. so. Simply going to close my eyes on that one! no thanks!

then of course there’s everyone favourite head empty good boy, hoy, who was assigned The Star card. out of all the card readings, this boy got the most straightforward one and i’m trying not to read too much into that since they were all assigned by nang and my brain hasn’t quite caught up to [handwaves] whatever she and hoy have got going on over there. this card is symbolic of faith, optimism, and hope. so….. yeah hoy in a nutshell. not a whole lot more to add in there.

skipping The Heirophant card and The Tower card to come back to later because i have Some Theories there and they may make more sense after i go back and rewatch a few things

ANYWAYS if you read to the end of this thank you and i’m sorry please feel free to yell at me about it

[vpgoldenrod]

Aziraphale's Haunted Look: On Being Forcibly Outed and Exiled From The Garden

While we're all talking about Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss, I'm surprised by those who thought Aziraphale looked disgusted because that's not an emotion I'd seen in him at all. There's sadness, and confusion, and anger, but I couldn't remember seeing disgust. When I watched the scene again I realized there's something else going on that really struck a chord with me. It's an uncomfortably familiar look.

He feels exposed. And I know what it feels like to be exposed in such a violent and intimate way.

Stay with me, I promise this is relevant to my analysis.

I didn't know what being transgender meant when I was a kid. Being raised in a fundamentalist Christian house meant that I wasn't exposed to those ideas, so I lived my life feeling like something was always just kind of broken. It was like I was looking right through the problem at other things, trying to alleviate symptoms without understanding why they existed in the first place. I eventually met other trans people, who gently nudged me in the direction of my truth. I even became aware that I had experienced some minor dysphoria. Every time I came close to acknowledging the truth however, my eyes would once again begin to glaze over the problem. I always managed to subconsciously shove it back into a little box and move on with my life. It was like I accidentally “did a big miracle” and hid this truth from myself so well that I continually forgot it was there.

Til one day I had an encounter that changed everything.

We're friends now but oddly enough, it was only meant to be a fling. I won't go into too many details because it's not just my story, but it was a lovely time that culminated with us meeting and doing what adults do. The person I was with, a cis man, silently clocked me the minute we were face to face. For reasons I now understand, without warning and in the middle of our shared intimate experience, he decided to talk dirty to me as if I were a gay man.

No one had ever spoken to me like that before. It had never occurred to me to ask anyone to do that, or that anyone would want to. I was in an intimate space and filled with the typical emotions and endorphins one has during sex, but it was a fling. I had walls up. So for the first time in my life, in this incredibly vulnerable position, someone grabbed me by my lapels and forced me to face a deep truth about myself that I'd spent decades silently dancing around. It was a blunt, irrefutable truth and it hit like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. He saw me when I was very much not trying to be seen, and there's few things more terrifying than that.

Even now, years later, I have such a hard time putting into words the overwhelming emotions I felt that night. There were so many, and yet somehow I can see every single one of the emotions I felt in Aziraphale's face when Crowley lets him go. My heart breaks all over again seeing how exposed he felt. He can barely make eye contact until he stumbles onto the one emotion that gives him his agency back: anger.

Gabriel shows up to the bookshop completely naked. When a bewildered Aziraphale points it out Gabriel says, “Who told you I was naked?”

But that's not how the story goes.

God looks for Adam in the garden, but he hides from her. He eventually tells God, “I heard your voice in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid myself.”

Then God asks Adam, “Who told you you were naked?” And of course Adam knows he is naked because he ate the apple.

I've made jokes about Crowley being the apple that bit Aziraphale, but I forgot the bit that happens afterwards. He is aware of his own nakedness. He is exposed. To God, to Crowley, and to himself. As a result he is exiled from the safety of his Eden. Man, if this isn't the perfect analogy for being forcibly outed I don't know what is.

This show is so gay you guys.

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Fairytale of New York

Prompt: The Fairytale of New York

Warnings: cursing

Y/n threw a pot into the sink. "What's your problem?" Max asked, typing away on his phone. Y/n chuckled as if he told a pathetic joke. "What's right, do tell me Max." Max set his phone aside. "Well I don't know if you don't tell me." She stopped washing the pot for a second. "You've just been on the phone all day and it's the 25th of December. Couldn't you not text Lando or Daniel and spend spend a little time with me?" Max scoffed and returned to his phone. "You're just being selfish, I haven't seen them since Abu Dhabi-"

"Selfish? I'm selfish? You might not have seen Max and Daniel since Abu Dhabi but I haven't seen you since the week before Jeddah!" Max rolled his eyes. "Just let me finish this conversation and I'll get back to you."

"You shouldn't have to get back to me. You should prioritise the ones you love!" Y/n shouted. Max waved her remarks away. "You always do this-"

"You always start fights! I don't know what else you want from me Max-"

"How about listening? That would be a good start!" Max snarled. She spun around and pointed a wooden spoon at him. "Don't you dare say I don't listen. I listen to every single little detail about your day and whenever I tell you about mine, you go off saying I'm not thinking about you." Max had found he backed up a bit sinnce she followed him with the spoon. "Oh poor, poor Maxy baby, I didn't listen to what he ate for breakfast in the Red Bull hospitality and I just had to know whatf it was, didn't I?" He was shocked, lost for words. They'd fought before, obviously but he'd never heard her speak in such a venemous tone."

"Y/n, let's just talk about this-" Y/n cits him off with a laugh. "Oh now you want to talk?" Max nodded. "Honestly, go fuck yourself." She threw the spoon back into the water ans stormed off to their bedroom, locking the door behind her and lying down.

Max leaned onto the counter. Why was he like this? She was right, he should tell her she was right but he always felt the urge to fight. Eh

He turned and looked towards the tree in the kitchen. It twinkled and glimmered, highlighting the tin self and baubles. She did a good job decorating it. Max didn't even help. He looked at all the lovely decorations, each ever so beautiful. His eyes however, landed on one particular bauble, with the word New York 2017 written on it. He arched an eyebrow. They met in 2017, they'd never been to New York, what on earth was this? He turned it and saw a photo of them on Christmas Eve, going on Christmas Day. Max looked ever so drunk and Y/n, well as usual looked perfect. He smiled at the memory as it came flooding back to him, the very night they met, the first Christmas they had knowing eachother and one of many.

Max stumbled out of the bar with insults being hurled at him in French, English and many other languages, most he couldn't understand. He sarcastically lifted his hand, shaped as though there was an invisible bottle kr glass in it. "Happy Christmas and a Happy New Year to you too mate!" he shouted. Max was drunk, too drunk and his father was back in the Netherlands for the time being, meaning Max was spending this Christmas in particular alone. He walked for a little while until he heard some singing. He looked around, confused as to whether it was the radio or someone on the street and as he finally found the woman, bundled up in warm clothes with a guitar on hand, he found that it was in fact on the street.

Max sat on the curb beside her and looked up at her. She sang so effortlessly. Her hair blew in the wind. She looked phenomenal and his stares didn't go unnoticed by the busker. "What? Are you just going to stare?" the girl asked. Max smiled as he held his chin up with his hand. "I can't help it. You sound like an angel." The girl began blushing furiously and decided to pack up her guitar and head home since it was getting colder by the second. "Wait, where are you going?" Max asked as he watched her pack her stuff up. "Away from you." Max tumbled up and began walking towards her. "I don't want to come across as weird or creepy but your voice is very beautiful." She was taken back by the compliment. "Why would that come across as creepy? It's a nice little compliment." He gave a dopey smile.

"We're in New York! It's the most romantic city in the world!" Y/n arched a brow. "Isn't Paris- We're not even in New York- nevermind. Just-" she gestured forward. "let's go." Max took her hand into his and walked with her down the Monaco coast. She stared at his hand. She didn't exactly expect to catch feelings with this questionable looking boy so quickly but here she was, happily holding hands with him as different Christmas songs played in the back. "Do you like Christmas?" Max asked. She could only shrug her shoulders. "I don't know. It always depends on my mood."

"How do you mean?" he asked. "Well, it depends mainly on-" She was cut off by a gasp. "Listen!" They fell silent, listening to T be meoldy of The Fairytale of New York playing. "Yeah, it's a nice song." She arched a brow. "No, it's my favourite song. Come, come." He ushered her towards him, begining to dance with her. "Why is it your favourite song might I ask?" He shrugged his shoulders. "I think it's because I can actually curse in this song." She giggled. "Of course, I don't know why I wouldn't expect anything less of you." Max continued swaying to the song, twirling her around every so often. "Aw, the song is ending." Max pouted. "Not yet though, we can keep on dancing." The continued on dancing, little by little until the music stopped and a local bar started a countdown to Christmas day. The pair excitedly counted along and then, once the bells rang out, they kissed in the corner outside the bar. "Oh wait, kissing at midnight is for New Year's, isn't it?" Max asked. Y/n laughed loudly, louder than she'd ever laughed before. "You did, but I don't mind doing this again for New Years."

Max walked towards the bedroom and knocked the door. "Y/n? Are you in there?" Max asked. The only respons ehe got was a muffled, "Go away." He opened the door and saw her, laying with red, puffy eyes. She'd obviously been crying. "Aw, Y/n-"

"Don't baby me Max. I'm your girlfriend, not your child." Max arched a brow. They shared a look and burst into laughter. "I'd hope you weren't my child." He rubbed her back. "You know what I mean though. Don't talk to me like that." Max nodded. "Okay. I don't want to fight, not on Christmas." Y/n scoffed. "That's all we ever do nowadays." Max swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry." Y/n sat up. "You don't know how much I sacrificed to actually date you." Y/n mumbled. "My dad literally kicked me out. He didn't like you one bit but I still decided to be with you." Max sighed. "I know and I'll never forget that." The room fell silent. Neither dared say a word·until Max finally broke the silence. "I love you." He whispered. Y/n felt a smile creep onto her face.

"I love you too." She muttered back. Max rubbed her leg a bit. "If it makes it any better, I finished the dishes." She grinned. "It makes it a little better. At least now we can relax and actually spend some time together." Max leaned forward and kissed her nose. "You know I love you to pieces." She nodded. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Merry Christmas Y/n."

"Merry Christmas Max."