#i'll know you're lying to keep me happy

[stanleypollable]

sure, everyone’s being nice to you now. but come poll time, who says that’ll stick? you were right before—everyone saw the tags and voted for the bad options anyway, because it was *funny*. and it was! it was hilarious! do you seriously think they like you enough to put in all that work? because if i’m remembering right, you don’t exactly have a history of being likable.

well, i mean, it's possible when they plugged the computer back in they were just misinterpreting you? a simple misunderstanding! and then the actual stuff in the fire, maybe they genuinely don't know how to put out a fire! not to mention the fact that none of those choices would've ever worked anyways.

ignore them, everyone's on your side!

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

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

word count: 21,858

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

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

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

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

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

Or to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon cries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

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

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

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

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

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

“Open the boot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

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

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

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

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

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t respond. 

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

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

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

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

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

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

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

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

“The longest of my life.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, nodding his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“How are your notes so good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem fine to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun did.

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

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

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

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

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

you: i’ll try..

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

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

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

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

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Are you going to get that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him. He’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “So much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

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

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

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Thx 😁

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. “You can.” 

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

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

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

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

“And this? If you want..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

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

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

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

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[iamumbra195]

School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.

Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.

Aiden: I'm a Virgo!

Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.

...

Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME

Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?

Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Taylor: And...?

Logan: He got Aiden.

...

Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?

Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?

Everyone:

Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.

...

Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Logan: Aiden, no.

Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.

Logan: Please stop encouraging him.

...

Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Tyler: You’re a hazard to society

Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

...

Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

...

Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Aiden: Smad.

...

Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?

Aiden: I'm depressed.

Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.

...

Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?

Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?

...

Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Logan: How am I supposed to know?

Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.

...

Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.

Ashlyn: Try again.

Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.

...

Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Tyler: You did WHAT–

Ben: William Snakespeare

...

Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Aiden: edible

...

Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!

Aiden: How are you feeling?

Ashlyn: Fine.

Taylor: Something personal!

Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?

...

Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Logan: If?

Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.

...

Logan: We need a distraction.

Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Aiden, whispering: My time has come

...

Tyler: Where are you going?

Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Tyler: I'll come with

...

Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain

Jacob (shop owner): Can you?

Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

...

Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.

Tyler, sighing: What did you do?

Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE

...

Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.

Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.

...

Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?

...

Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone

Ashlyn: I’ll call

Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Aiden: Hello?

...

Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.

Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

...

Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much

Taylor: You’ve been to jail?

Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.

...

Mike: You love me, right?

Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

...

Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Ashlyn: Okay

Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.

Ashlyn: The-

Ashlyn: The scary parts?

Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

...

Ashlyn: How petty can you get?

Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Taylor: I KNEW IT-

...

Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

...

Mike: So what’s for dinner?

Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's all for today!

[harunayuuka2060]

Ace: Please, Leona-senpai! Tell us how you did it!

The other students under Azul's contract: Please, Leona-senpai!

Leona: Tch. How annoying.

Ruggie: Do you really wanna know?

Ace and the others: YES!

Leona: ... *smirks*

Leona: Well, you've gotta do 100 pushups first.

Ace: And that will help us to get rid of this thing?

Leona: Of course not. I just want to be entertained.

Ace: ...

Ruggie: Shishishi! Take it or leave it. But I'm telling you, it's 100% effective and completely painless.

Leona: Are you going to do those pushups or not?

Ace and the others: *groan*

*Ace and the others almost gave up halfway, but Leona and Ruggie kept reminding them to keep going, or they wouldn't give them the solution they needed.*

Ace and the others: *sweating buckets*

Ace: Leona-senpai... Are you going to tell us now?

Leona: Sure.

Ace: Finally!

Leona: *smirks* You'll find the answer in Diasomnia.

Ace: Huh?!

The others: *start to protest*

Ace:. Quit playing around, Leona-senpai!

Ruggie: Hey, Leona is right about that. The answer is in Diasomnia.

Ruggie: Or if you're lucky to see them in class, it would be better.

Leona: But I won't recommend approaching them in public. Azul's watching like a hawk, so it's safer to visit them in Diasomnia.

Ace: Who are you referring to?

Floyd: Crabby~ I see that your sea anemone is gone.

Ace: O-Oh, hey, Floyd-senpai!

Jamil: So Leona wasn’t lying when he said he had found a way to break the contract.

Ace: Yeah, but he made it difficult for us.

Floyd: Eh~ Crabby~ Can you tell me how it worked~?

Ace: It's a secret, senpai.

Floyd: You're not gonna tell me...?

Ace: ...

Ace: No.

Jamil: Floyd, we're doing basketball practice now. You can deal with him after we're done.

Ace: (And I'll use that chance to escape.)

Floyd: I won't let you escape, Crabby~.

Ace: ...

Sebek: What's going on?! More and more students from various dorms are dropping by to see MC-sama!

Sebek: This is unacceptable!

Silver: I think they’re all asking to have the sea anemones removed from their heads.

Sebek: Those insolents—

MC: Sebek, you’re way too loud.

Sebek and Silver: *get startled because they didn't hear them approach... again*

Sebek: MC-sama!

MC: They come by when I'm not busy, and they could have approached me during class but chose not to. I think they're just trying to be considerate in their own way.

MC: However, I agree that the frequent visits could impact other students in this dorm, so I may need to address the issue sooner or later.

Sebek and Silver: Huh?

Silver: What do you mean? What are you planning to do?

Sebek: MC-sama! Whatever it is you're thinking, I'm against it!

Sebek: Waka-sama won’t be happy if you get mixed up in their issues!

MC: ...

MC: *makes a sad expression* Don't you have confidence in me, Sebek?

Sebek: MC-sama...

Silver: ...

Silver: Let us help you. Since we serve Malleus, it’s our duty to assist you as well.

MC: *smiles*

Sebek: ...

Sebek: Hmph! I can assist MC-sama without your help, Silver!

Jade: Thank you for your cooperation. *has used his signature spell on a student*

Azul: ...

Azul: Are you certain?

Jade: I don't think he would be able to lie.

Azul: ...

Azul: I refuse to believe they could break my contracts that easily.

Jade: Would you prefer to believe that your golden contracts are flawed?

Azul: ...

Jade: *smiles upon seeing his serious expression*

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

hello how are you it if my first time asking but what do you think it would be like if white beard had a daughter and she went on shanks crew like he haven’t seen his daughter for years and then he see her on shanks crew

also I love you writing you my favvvv

Imagine being Whitebeard's daughter on Shanks's crew

A mildly naughty bit under the undercut. Also, I'm having to change how I indicate action, instead of using Asterix *, I'm going to change them to [ ].

Marco: Pops, Shanks's ship is on the horizon, signaling they wanna talk-yoi.

Whitebeard: [rolls his eyes,] Fine let him aboard.

As the Red Force is pulling itself parallel to the Moby Dick

Whitebeard: [spots you working on the rigging] (y/n)?!

You: dukes [knows you're going to be in trouble, so you try to duck into the galley to avoid him]

Whitebeard: Young Lady, I fucking saw you, don't try to hide from me! Come here.

You: [shuffles in front of him] Hi Pops

Izou: oi, oi, don't go getting familiar with him.

Whitebeard: [holds up his hand] No, it's okay, this one is my biological child.

Ace: You have a bio kid? Why didn't you tell us!?

Whitebeard: I was trying to keep her safe, [turns to you and gives you a pointed look,] which is why I left you on Sphinx, where it's safe.

You: It was boring, so I snuck aboard the supply ship, that you send us every month, and hopped out at the nearest port.

Whitebeard: That supply ship is captained by Doma!

Thatch: Shall I go draft a summons letter sent to him?

Whitebeard: yes, thank you. [Turns back to you,] You should have stayed on Sphinx. Yes, it's boring, but that's because it's peaceful. Do you have any idea how rare and valuable peace is? Why would you leave?

You: Because I wanted more! I wanted to see the world! I wanted to fight strong opponents! Because I'm your kid!

Marco: [mutters loud enough for Whitebeard to hear.] Personality is fifty percent genetic.

Whitebeard: [Ignores him.] I understand that... urge to see the world. But why him! [Jabs a finger in Shank's direction]

Shanks: What's wrong with me?

Benn: [pats his captain's head] We've been wondering that for years.

You: He makes me laugh.

Shanks: [puffs up his chest with pride and cheekily sticks his tongue out at Benn]

Whitebeard: Please tell me you aren't in love with this misfit.

You: Sorry, I can't help who I fell in love with, [shrugs.] He makes me happy, and he treats me well.

Yassop: [yells from the deck of the Red Force] That's an understatement! He spoils her rotten, and she gets first dibs on any treasure we get. And he buys her anything she wants.

Whitebeard: [rubs his chin thoughtfully] First dibs, huh?

You: I also send funds home, back to Sphinx.

Whitebeard: I suppose I'll allow it, then.

That evening

The Crews: [have somehow started a boat party]

Shanks and Whitebeard: [chatting around a table ladened with food]

You: Daddy, will you pass the rum?

Shanks and Whitebeard: [reach for it, accidentally touch hands, and lock eyes]

the crews: ʱªʱªʱª(ᕑᗢूᓫ∗)

Shanks: (☼Д☼) !! *Books it for his ship*

Whitebeard: [hot on his heels] AKAGAMI!

Marco: wow

Benn: That was a mean thing to do, (y/n).

You: ଘ(✿˵•́ ω •̀˵) ? I didn't do anything, [lying].

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[luvyeni]

GUYS MY AGE ,, 이민호

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee know x fem!reader wc. 6.2k+

genre. neighbors!au , smut

𓄷 includes ... cheating, unprotected sex, oral ( m. receiving ), literally the mother isn't the only sane person im sorry THIS IS PURE FICTION

「 authors note 𖹭 」 here it is the fic , i hope you like it 😅

❪ masterlist! ❫

guys your age never really appealed to you— you liked older men— blame it on your daddy issue, you didn't care; something about an older man just made your heart go crazy— and your panties wet.

“you need to find something to do this summer while you're home.” your mother said, you had made your return home from college for the summer, ready to soak up the sun by your pool in the backyard. “how about getting a job, the couple next door is looking for a babysitter for their three kids while they work.”

your mom watched your face scrunch up in disgust. “why would I want to babysit their sticky children?” you scoffed, picking at your freshly painted nails. “how do you plan on making money then?” you sighed, of course you already planned for this. “Mom, don't worry, I've got it all covered.” you smiled reassuringly; and you weren't lying, you did— but could you really tell your mother you planned on getting money from the many older men you managed to seduce during your time at college. “you better, don't just rot in your room all summer.”

“what if i go help the old lady across the street?” you asked standing up to put your dish in the sink. “Will that ease your worries, mother?” of course you didn't want to do it, but it would make your mother happy. “oh i didn't tell you?” she said, you shook your head, telling her to continue. “her children moved her to a nursing home.” you felt your lip curl up into a smirk. “good she was a bitch.” you said, the grumpy old lady could never stay out of your business. “I really would've hated doing that.”

“yeah she was wasn't she?” she chuckled. “Anyways, the couple who moved in there have only been here for about a month; I see the lady when I'm on my way to work.” she said. “The husband I'm pretty sure stays at home and work— you should introduce yourself, let them know who you are.” you really didn't want to; but the look in your mother's eyes, you could tell she wasn't asking you. “Fine, I'll do it later, happy?” your mother turned the water off, kissing your head. “ecstatic, im gonna get ready for work.”

“what are you doing?” jisung spoke through the phone; your bestest friend in the whole world— and your biggest enemy too. “well since you decided to flee the fucking country this summer; leaving me here.” you scoffed. “I'm stuck here rotting in my home.” you saw him smile; you scoffed before he spoke up. “Sorry, it was a last minute trip with felix.” Felix was his boyfriend; his very rich boyfriend. “yeah well while you're being wined and dined throughout europe, i’m stuck here.” you laid flat on your stomach, legs in the air.

“Remember when you left me in the dorms during spring break?” he asked. “And that business man took you to hawaii? consider this as pay back.” you rolled your eyes. “fuck you, that trip was horrible anyway, all he did was work and complain about how much he hated his hate wife— we had sex once the entire trip.” you scoffed. “You got a Gucci bag out of it though.” you hummed; he was right. “best thing to come out of it.”

“oh yeah.” you were now sitting up. “Remember the old lady across the street from me?” you asked. “yeah she was a bitch.” you nodded. “Her kids finally did everyone a favor and put her in a home.” he clapped. “good riddance, so did anyone move in that house?” you hummed. “yeah a married couple, mom wants me to introduce myself, let them know i'll be here for the summer.”

“yeah it would be confusing to see a girl in a skimpy ass bathing suit sunbathing in her front yard.” you shrugged; the sun just hit better in the front of your house. “Keep her husband on a leash, like the rest of the house wives on your street do when they see you coming, I wouldn't be too surprised if they already got to her.” you laughed, you never really cared what those women thought about you; you never really cared about their husbands, it was more so the other way around. “I really don't care about those housewives, their problem is their husbands and their wandering eyes, not me.” You defended.

“I should go introduce myself before my mom gets home.” you said. “Yeah, I have to go, Felix wants to go for food; call you later?” you nodded. “Yeah, if you aren't getting your back blown out.” his face turned red. “He's in the room.” he gritted through his teeth. “hi yn.” you heard his deep voiced boyfriend shout. “Hi Felix.” you laughed. “I hate you so much.” jisung said, you laughed. “Love you too!” You waved goodbye, hanging up the phone.

You didn't bother getting yourself together; throwing on a pair of jean shorts and a tank top— they're your neighbors, the next time you'd see them is when you're dragging your exhausted body back into your home from your morning run, and that's even worse.

you made your way out of your house; knocking on the door of the house, your phone buzzing— jisung sending you a photo of his french cuisine. “lucky bitch.” you typed into your phone. “Bring me back a souvenir from paris.” you didn't bother to look up from your phone, so you didn't hear the door open. “Excuse me?”

The deep voice made you look up from your device; and it was like a god was standing right in front of you. “How can I help you?” he asked , you shook every dirty thought that ran through your head at that moment; putting your phone away. “O-oh sorry.” you chuckled. “I didn't hear the door open.”

The man was clearly at least a decade older than you; you could see the few gray hairs in his head— that didn't matter to you though. “I said how can I help you?” he said, his voice deep and sexy. “I'm yn, I live across the street.” you pointed. “my mother thought it would be a good idea to introduce myself so there wouldn't be any confusion this summer.” you said. “I just got home from college for summer break.”

“College?” He said, you nodded. “yup, my second year is done!” You chirped, this corner of his mouth curling into a smirk. “You won't be a problem right?” You were taken aback by the question, he chuckled. “Parties love, pretty girl like you; surely you're popular.” he said, but you stopped at him calling you pretty; smiling widely at him. “I won't have to worry about loud music and young adults passing out in your front yard right?” you could see his eyes wandering down; stopping right at your chest. “My wife hates the music you kids listen to.”

Right, his wife; he was married, the way he was practically trying to look through your shirt made you forget. “Oh no sir, most of my friends are on vacation.” he nodded. “im minho.” he held his hand out. “Well it's nice to meet you, yn.” he said, you nodded; your eyes scaling his body, much like he did to you; he was pretty fit for someone his age. “How old are you sir?” he raised his eyebrows; what an odd question. “34.” just around your age range. “and since we're asking those kinds of questions,” he said. “May I ask how old you are?” maybe it was a delusion, or maybe he actually was flirting with you— whatever it was, you liked it. “I'm 23 sir.”

“You're still pretty young,” he said; you tilted your head to the side, folding your arm with a frown. “but I am an adult.” you challenged; he nodded, clicking his tongue almost in an annoyed state; it made you smirked; you could read him like a book; he hated being challenged. “still a young girl in my eyes.” you wanted to roll your eyes, and he could see that; he could read you as much as you could him. “I have to get back to work now.” He said, you stepped back. “I'm sure you have things as well, whatever you little girls do these days.” he said, watching your jaw clench. “Remember, no loud crazy parties.”

“Can't promise that sir, it is summer.” was the last thing you said, before turning away; crossing the street, leaving him standing there, watching you go into the house; also getting a peek of your ass. He smirked, walking back into his house, closing the door. “Who was that?” He was quickly brought back to reality by his wife's voice. “at the door, who was it?”

“Oh the woman across the street.” he said walking straight past her into the kitchen. “What did she bring this time?” She followed behind him. “She's sent over 3 plates of cookies in the past month we've been here.” she said. “they aren't even that good; mines are way better.” minho rolled his eyes, they actually weren't, he knew the lady ran her own bakery and his wife barely knew the difference between melted and softened butter. “Of course they are honey.”

“So where are they?” she asked, searching for a plate. “The cookies.” She said, “Oh, you didn't let me finish.” Yeah he was being condescending, but his wife never noticed. “It wasn't her, it was her daughter,” he said, opening the fridge for water. “She's home from college.” He went to walk away, but his wife stood in front of him, her face in a frown. “how may I help you? I need to get back to work.”

“You are to stay away from that girl.” She said, he stared at her confused. “I mean it's not like I'm gonna ask her to come out and get beers with me, she's 23; we have nothing in common.” he said, trudging past his wife, making his way up the stairs. “She's a college student.” he said; very attractive but a college student nonetheless.

he made it back to his office, about to close the door and get back to work; when his wife burst in. “What is now?” He said sitting down. “The other wives.” she started. “They told me things about that girl.” She said, “like what?” He said; what could you have done to offend the housewives of the block. “Back talked to them in an argument; she's a young girl, they all do that.” he laughed, he could believe it; he witnessed it only a few minutes ago — except it turned him on.

he watched his wife scoff, he adjusted himself in his pants as she closed her eyes letting out a big sigh; he felt a rant coming on. “No, they told me she's been seducing their husbands since the day she turned 18.” He looked at his wife. “what?” he said. “Yeah, wearing tiny tiny clothes; flirting with their husbands, and her mother is none the wiser.” he shook his head. “Is she really seducing them, or is she a young pretty girl and they're just bitter miserable wives who can't control their husbands' wandering eyes?”

“Are you defending her?” he sighed, rubbing his temples; he didn't really want to have this conversation. “no I'm not honey, I'm just saying don't believe everything these housewives say.” He said. “yeah well I don't trust her, so stay away from her.” she said, he nodded; just ready to get her out of the room, he was busy; and not to mention his cock was hardening at the thought of you in one of those tiny tiny outfits the desperate housewives told his wife about. “yeah fine, I'll stay away from her.”

“Thank you.” she bent down kissing his forehead. “I love when you actually listen to me.” She said smugly as she walked out closing the door; it pissed him off, not like his banter with you— no that turned him on. “fuck.” he sighed doubling over , his cock throbbing in his pants, you were already driving him crazy.

You hadn't seen him much after that; only glimpses of him walking into his house with groceries, or getting into his car, and even then he looked good; making the spot in between your legs tingle — sure he was married, but it wasn't like you were doing anything wrong; what's wrong with a little fantasy inside your head, something to think about late at night when you had your hand down your sleep shorts, pretending it was him in between your legs, his hands instead of yours.

you did see his wife though, even though it was against your will every single time; and you hated it every single time, she ran the same route as you in the morning but at a later time; so when you were finishing your walk; she was just starting hers.

“Goodmorning.” Her smile was so fake as you slowed down , stopping in front of your mailbox. “How are you?” she yelled from across the street. “I’m fine.” You smiled , so desperate to get into the house; you were sweating and hungry— and you really didn't want to talk to this lady. “I'm good.” You said. “No plans this summer?” she asked. “Not really; most of my friends are back where I go to college.”

She then went on a rant of all the different jobs you could be doing. “Baby sitting, have you ever thought about that; of course you'd have to change your wardrobe a bit , it would be a bit inappropriate to wear some of the things you wear around kids wouldn't it?” this bitch was really working on your nerves. “If you have any kids , then I would be happy to watch them.”

“God no.” There he was again, walking out of the door. “No kids here,” he said. “We have our three cats and that's it.” his eyes scanning your outfit; your skin still glistening with sweat; he was seriously checking you out in front of his wife. “Well I love cats!” you jumped a bit; tits bouncing at the impact. “So cute.”

You knew what you were doing; and so did minho— his wife was quick to end the conversation between you too. “Well I'm sure you're busy, and it's time for my run.” she said. “And don't you have to feed the cats honey?” she said, turning to him, grabbing his arm. “what? oh yeah the cats.” He said. “yeah the cats , go feed them.” she said. “Okay baby.” he said; she turned to you smugly. “Well I better get going.” She said before she started down the street catching up with the other wives she ran with.

“Your wife doesn't like me very much.” He stopped; turning where you stood across the street, in a sports bra that held your tits perfectly; leggings that made your ass pop; and a smirk on your face— he so desperately wanted to fuck off. “I don't know she seemed to like you very much.” you knew he was joking. “it would be inappropriate to wear some of the things you wear, she basically called me a whore in housewives language.” You chuckled , folding your arms under your tits , forcefully pushing your boobs up. “don't worry, I don't care; the housewives on this block have said worse.”

“yeah like what?” he said , stuffing his hands into his pockets. “that I'm just a whore put on earth to seduce their husbands.” you said , a laugh following. “I'm not worried about their husbands, but I can't say the same for their husbands.” You shrugged. “oh really?” He said, you nodded. “but hey it's not my problem, they like to stare.” you shrugged, he did that sexy eyebrow raise again. “They do, don't they?”

Fuck you knew what you were doing; and not only did it piss him off, it fucking turned him on. “I can't say I don't like the attention though.” you said, watching him shift from side to side. “who wouldn't?” he had to get away before he came across the street and dragged you into his house; then he heard it, the meow of the cats. “oh shit.” he said, making you laugh. “time to feed the cats sir.” You waved. “Have a nice day.” you made your way into the house, making sure to sway your hips, giving him a good view of your ass.

“I'm telling you sung he wants to fuck me.” you said; your friend shook his head. “Wow, that took you not only a week.” He said. “He's married, no?” You shrugged. “and that's my problem?” You said. “I said he wants to fuck me, he knows he married.” Morally yes it was fucked up, but you didn't really care. “yeah but the wife already hates you, she finds out you want to fuck her husband.” he said. “you've never seen an episode of snapped? deadly women?” you shook your head. “i’d rather start the semester with you and not the memory of you.”

“How hot is he exactly?” you sent him a photo that you stole from his social media— yes you stalked him. “Oh wow.” he said. “yah.” You heard felix in the background. “Hey lix.” you said. “yn don't die trying to fuck a married man.” The blonde said. “I won't lix don't worry, don't kill my friend in milan.” you responded. “i can't promise you that if he doesn't stop looking at that fucking photo.” you laughed as he slapped the phone. “hey! let me talk to my friend in peace.”

“you want to fuck him too huh?” you heard him say. “no you know I only want to fuck you.” you shook your head. “i'm hanging up before I witness a live amateur porn.” you said. “Call me later.” You hung up. “Now what?” you said.

You decided to go sunbathing; finding your favorite bikini, grabbing your towel and sunscreen and favorite book. “Where's my daughter off now?” your mom said. “sunbathing.” you said grabbing some snacks. “In the front yard?” You nodded. “Have fun, I have work today.” you hummed, making your way outside, you set up your things right in front; taking your shirt off laying down on the towel , feeling the sun beaming down on you.

“Are you kidding me?” minho heard his wife's voice. “Is she serious right now?” He stood up from his office chair , making his way to their shared room, where his wife was standing in front of the window. “What's wrong now?” He said. “she's out there in a bikini and shorts; laying in the sun.”

“Okay?” He said, she scoffed. “Everyone can see her , what kind of slut wears that in front of her house.” she said, he made his way over to the window. “There's no one out there.” He said, she glared at him. “Move, I'm going to the grocery store.” she pushed past him. “You already went to the grocery store.” he said following behind. “this is for the barbeque.” she said. “What barbeque?” he said , they both made their way outside to the car. “I told you we're hosting the barbeque at our house.”

“seriously; we just moved here,” he said. “even more reason for us to do it.” she picked his lips. “Who's gonna be there?” he asked. “Everyone on the block.” he did not feel comfortable having all those people running in and out of his house, but his wife was dead set, so it was already set and stone. “Hello!” The couple turned their heads to the voice.

“I'm off.” your mom came out of the house. “Okay!” you said looking up from the book. “Oh there go the Lee's.” she said , you sat up watching the couple walk out of the house. “Hello!” your mom waved brightly at them. “Oh hello!” You covered your eyes from the sun. “Yn don't be rude, say hello.” Your mom said. “Hi.” you waved, his wife didn't say anything. “Hello yn.” he said, you smiled at the way he said your name. “Where are you two off to today?” your mom asked. “Oh just to get some things for the barbeque we're throwing for the block.”

“Oh that sounds fun!” your mom said. “you're welcome to come.” she turned to you; her smile was different towards you than your mother. “You to yn, you're both welcomed.” she said, the invitation mostly towards your mom. “Oh thank you, we'll be there.” the other woman nodded. “Great!” you and minho made eye contact , you smiled. “can't wait.”

It was finally the day of the barbeque; your mother forcing you across the street with the cookies in her hand. “You're not gonna rot in the bed today.” You groaned. “i don't want to be here with these people.” she ignored you, knocking on the door. “It's only for an hour.” she said. “you know that cute boy down the street, he'll be here.” she winked , you cringed. “Why do you keep trying to marry me off to him?” you said. “because you can't spend all your time with jisung, even he has a boyfriend.”

the door opened , minho stood there. “hello.” your mom held out the plate of cookies. “mhm , my favorite.” he smiled. “thank you.” he stood to the side. “Everyone is in the back,” he said. “Thank you for inviting us.” your mother said. “No problem, you've been so nice to us with these cookies ever since we moved here,” he said. “Me and my wife really enjoy them,” he said. “I'm glad , come by the shop and I'll give you some free cupcakes.” she said. “Thank you ma’am.”

You two made it to the back where everyone was. “There's seungmin over there.” your mom pointed. “go talk to him.” Minho watched you stomp over to the boy, your mom making her way over to a group of women; his eyes scanning your outfit, your mini skirt sitting right below your ass, the shirt you wore barely covering your plush boobs; fuck he just wanted to stick his cock in between them. “fuck.” he cursed.

“you okay man?” Chan, another neighbor, came up to him. “yeah I'm fine.” he said , not taking his eyes off of you. “I see you've met yn.” the older guy chuckled. “yeah I guess.” He said. “Listen, let me give you some advice.” Chan said. “fuck your wife.” Minho turned to him. “What?” he said, the Australian laughed. “I know what you're thinking; wife being a bit of a bitch, barely having sex.” He chuckled, that was exactly his story. “Here comes this young girl with a nice ass and a good pair of tits , batting her eyelashes, a bit of a brat?”

“You seem to know a lot.” He said. “because I was you, man.” Chris said, wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “But you know what I did? i went home and fucked my wife.” he said. “forgot all about it.” he said. “I'm telling you it's not worth it.” he said. “Fuck your wife.”

He knew Chan was right, but that didn't stop him from looking at you; his eyes meeting yours. you tilted your head to the side, your sultry smile as you say your goodbyes to seungmin, making your way over to him, he looked around making sure your mom or his wife wasn't paying attention , as you finally were standing in front of him. “Can I use your bathroom?”

He didn't have to follow you; he could've just given you the directions— but he really wasn't thinking; and he wished he would have been. “You have a nice home.” You said. “Thank you.” He said watching you purposely sway your hips side to side. “fuck.” he says to himself. “huh?” you asked , but you can hear him , he could see you smirking teasing him. “fucking brat.”

you definitely heard him this time, you laughed. “sir what's wrong?” you went to touch his shoulder in fake concern. He grabbed your wrist, pushing you against the wall. “fuck why couldn't you just stay away?” he growled. “Am I really to blame?” you took your other hand , traveling down to his waist. “Yn.” He weakly warned. “You can stop me if you want.” you said , your hand inching further— right to his cock, giving it a little squeeze. “fuck.” He groaned. “but I don't think you want me to.”

this was it; you finally were gonna get what you've wanted all this time; married or not you wanted his cock inside of you. “your wife doesn't have to know.” that's what set him off , grabbing the back of your head. “fuck shut up.” He said. “Get on your knees.” he said , roughly pushing you down. “you thought you were gonna get fucked didn't you?” you hissed as he yanked your hair. “too bad I'm just gonna stuff my cock down your throat and you're gonna take it like the little slut you are.”

he used his other hand to pull down his pants , freeing his cock from his underwear; his stock almost hitting you in your face. “you're so big” he hissed as you gave the tip of his cock a kiss. “yeah, want my cock down your throat.” He stroked his length in front of your face. “Fuck.” he slapped his cock on your lips. “open up.” he his tip against your lips. “fuck.”

He slowly pushed his cock into your mouth , holding your head still as he forced his cock down your throat. “shit your little throat taking my cock so good.” he hissed. “go-gonna fuck your face.” he moved his hips , holding the wall above your head, his balls slapping against your chin as he fucked your face in the middle of the hallway of the house he shared with his wife. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” he moaned. “fuck fuck fuck.” he thrusted a few more time , pulling out of your mouth , stroking his cock vigorously. “shit I'm cumming!” he shouted , his warm sticky cum shooting from his cock hitting your face. “Fuck.”

He looked down at your smiling cum covered face. “You tasted good.” you said wiping some off your cheek , putting your fingers to your mouth. You stood up , holding his cock in your hand, stroking it. “You came so much , it must've been a while.” he hissed. “sh-shit.” He said. “dont you want to fuck me?” He did, fuck he really did. “m-my wife.” he groaned. “outside.” you sighed, you forgot about the party. “I guess we'll have to wait.” you let his throbbing cock go. “Fuck I'm still hard.” he groaned.

You chuckled, wiping the rest of his cum off face. “thats too bad, I know you had a bunch of more cum for me.” he wanted to drag you up to his room and fuck you into the mattress, damned everyone in the back. “fucking brat.” he hissed, you kissed the corner of his mouth with a smile. “When does your wife leave for work?”

“11.” he said , you nodded. “I'll be here at one.” That's all you said before leaving him standing in the hall, guilt building in his stomach, not only did he just cheat on his wife— he knew he was gonna do it again.

he cleaned himself up; going back to the party. “Hey minho.” your mother came up to him. “Have you seen yn, she seemed to have escaped.” of he did. “um she said she wasn't feeling good so she headed home,” he said. “that girl, always something.” she shook his head. “What's wrong?” his wife came over. “oh nothing yn got sick and had to go home.” he could see his wife's smile, luckily your mom didn't see it. “Awe too bad.” she said. “I guess I better go see if she's okay, I had a nice time.” your mother said, before excusing herself.

“don't worry i didn't poison her.” she said, he stared at her. “laugh minho it's funny.” she kissed his lips before walking away, he made eye contact with Chan who gave him a nod— if only he knew it was too late for him.

He did completely ignore chris's word , as soon as the last person was gone, and the house was quiet and clean again; he brought his wife up to their room. “fuck minho!” his wife shouted as he fucked into her. “fuck faster.” he held her hips down as he plowed into her , wishing it was you that was under. “minho fuck!” his wife shouted into his ear. “Wait, don't go so fast.” she moaned, but all he could he do was imagine it was you , yelling for him to go faster , fuck you harder and faster. “Minho I'm cumming.” his wife shrieked. “fuck wait I'm not there yet.” he groaned, he knew once she was finished he wouldn't be able to continue. “fuck I'm cumming.” she shouted. “fuck I came Minho , pull out.”

he sighed, pulling out , laying on his back cock still hard. “fuck.” He cursed. “That was so good.” his wife laid breathless next to him. “But you were a bit too rough , next time don't go so hard.” He wasn't worried about that, he was too focused on his throbbing cock. “Hey, can you help me with this?” he said. “I can't tonight, I'm too tired and I have work in the morning.” she kissed his cheek. “I'm sure you can handle yourself.”

he watched her turn on her side, turning the light off leaving him in the dark , unable to sleep due to his cock. “fuck.” he cursed as he wrapped his hands around his length, thinking about how tight your throat felt around his cock , the way you gagged around his length; spit coming from your mouth, so messy. “fuck.” he moaned , cumming all over his hand to the thought of you.

he grabbed a tissue off the nightstand; wiping himself clean , throwing the tissue into the trash. He climbed back into the bed, pulling the covers over his body; his wife snoring beside him, he turned the light on his side off— he really tried to listen to what chan said, but he was far too gone.

he knew he was gonna fuck you when you came over tomorrow.

“Wait girl, did you really think this through?” jisung said. “I thought we were joking about this,” he said. “did you already fuck him?” he questioned. “not exactly.” you said. “what does that mean?” Felix said both of them invested now in their hotel room in Belgium. “I may or may not have given him head yesterday at the barbeque.” Both of their mouths dropped. “Are you kidding?” you shook your head. “oh my god yn you're insane.” jisung said. “How didn't his wife catch you?” you shrugged. “I don't know.”

“It's 11:30 now , are you gonna go?” felix asked, you looked at the clock. “maybe.” you said. “I know I really shouldn't support this.” jisung said. “but you're gonna do it anyway aren't you?” he asked. “i think his wife is leaving now , you got up looking out the window, sure enough she was walking to her car. “yeah it's her she's leaving now.” you spoke into the phone— fuck it. “I'm going.” you said. “Please don't get caught in his bed by his wife.” jisung said. “and don't get pregnant.” you hung up , getting dressed.

your mom had already left so you didn't have to explain to her why you suddenly were leaving; in the shortest skirt possible you might add, slipping on your shoes , opening the door to your house. you kept an eye for nosey housewives as you made your way across the street , knocking on the door; still keeping an eye out for people. the door opened up, revealing the man himself. “hi.”

before you could say something; he was dragging you into the house, closing the door, slamming you against it. “Jesus you're really eager aren't you?” you teased , he growled pressing you against the door. “I'm so fucking hard right now.” he said. “I can feel your cock throbbing , you're still thinking about my throat aren't you?” you squeezed his cock. “Is your wife not giving you head?” You pouted , “poor you.”

he was ready to take you against the door , but instead he forced himself away. “upstairs,” he said. “now.” you heard his commanding tone, he guided you to his room , slapping your ass, pushing the door open. “short fucking skirt , what's the point of it?” he growled , pulling you by the waist of the skirt, unbuttoning the button, pulling it down , leaving you in your panties. “take your shirt off.” you obeyed him , pulling the shirt over your head , he palmed his cock watching you undress.

“fuck get on the bed.” this was the bed he shared with his wife , but you could care less at this moment , spreading your legs for the older man , your wet cunt on display. “so fucking messy.” he pulled his pants down , revealing his underwear. “gonna use that cunt.”

he got on the bed , rubbing your clothed cunt. “fuck s-sir.” he smirked. “You like calling me sir.” he pulled your panties to the side, rubbing his cock along your folds. “You love cock that bad that you'd fuck anyone.” he groaned as he slid the tip of his cock in. “fuck a married man?” You moaned feeling his cock stretching you out. “pl-please fuck me.”

he fully bottomed out inside you. “fuck your pussy is so tight.” he groaned. “you-you're so big.” you moaned. “Please move.” you begged , he pulled out, before slamming back into you. “oh fuck!” you shrieked , clutching the bed sheets below you as he began to plow into you. “fuck I want you to cum all over my cock.” he hissed as you tightened around him. “fuck I'm gonna cum sir.” you moaned, your legs shaking. “fuck i'm cumming.”

a white ring formed around the base of his cock as he kept fucking into you. “gonna cover your pussy in my cum.” he hissed, his hand coming up to your boob to squeeze it. “fuck I'm gonna cum.” he cursed , pulling out cumming all over your cunt. “shit.” he tapped his cock on your cunt. “fuck, come here.”

he grabbed waist, flipping you over. “ass up.” he lifted your hips up; rubbing his cock along your folds. “You want my cock again?” you nodded. “Pl-please fuck me, want your cock sir.” he groaned. “yeah, want my cock?” he held the base of his cock coated with your juices, slapping your ass. “come on slut , fuck yourself on my cock.”

you pushed yourself back on his cock, both of you moaning out again. “that's it , stretch yourself out with my cock.” He groaned , grabbing your hip. “fuck i can't take it.” he pushed your head against the pillow , plowing into you. “fuck , that's it.” he groaned. “how does it feel being fucked past your limits by a married man?” he groaned. “so-so good.” your words barely audible due to your face being pushed against the pillow. “My wife lays her head right where you're drooling like a brain dead slut.”

you felt the knot in your stomach forming again. “You gonna cum again?” he said , his cock twitching. “ye-yes , please let me cum.” you begged. “no need to beg , I'm gonna let you cum slut.” he slapped your ass. “go ahead cum all over my cock.” your legs gave out as you cum , but he didn't stop , and you didn't want him to either. “fu-fuck I'm gonna cum.” he whimpered. “fuck.”

“i-inside.” You moaned. “fu-fuck I can't.” he groaned. “pl-please , cum inside me.” his hips twtiched as you tightened around him. “of fuck I'm cumming, gonna give you what you want.” he whispered in your ear , biting down on it as he came inside you. “fuck.” he drawed out as he came , his cum flooding your abused cunt. “shit.” he cursed, pulling , watching his cum leak out of you, it was probably the best thing he'd seen in a long time , he slapped your ass. “such a good pussy.”

“you don't feel guilty?” you asked , laying in his arms , it has been a while and it finally hit you while you laid in his arms , naked— in the bed he shared with his wife. “I guess,” he said. “what if we get caught?” you asked. “We won't.” he said. “She leaves everyday except for Sundays at 11.” he said. “she leaves; you come over and I take you on different surfaces of the house.” he bit your neck before kissing where he bit at. “she’ll be none the wiser.”

“And when I go back to school?” you didn't live far , but it was still a drive. “We'll figure it out , I'll drive the 2 hours if I have to.” he said. “you'd drive two hours there and back every weekend just to fuck me?”

he flipped you over , you yelp; feeling his cock against your folds. “fuck.” he cursed. “for this pussy?” he pushed his tip in. “fu-fuck yeah , I'd drive for it.”

“Now we still have 4 hours left and I want to spend as much time as I can inside this pretty cunt.”

©️LUVYENI

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction || They're Sick

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

GN!Reader. I changed it a little just so they weren’t too similar to one another, I hope that’s alright. Please let me know and I can fix and rewrite it for you <3

Trigger warning: Mentions of throwing up as well as people being ill, please don’t read if it’s something that may upset you <3

CHAN:

As soon as you felt the weight in the bed shift you realised Chan was waking up but it wasn't his usual slow wake-up, he shot out of bed before the bathroom door slammed. You frowned sitting up in the bed and glancing over at the bedroom door that was left wide open. 

"Channie?" You called out, quickly making your way toward the bathroom and peeling the door open to reveal Chan huddled over the toilet with his head lying against the seat. 

"That's not hygienic." You teased softly, walking behind him and kneeling on the ground, carefully running your fingers through his hair and hissing when you felt just how hot his skin was to touch. Before Chan could say anything to you, a gag sounded and he threw up into the toilet again. 

"I'll be right back." You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder before making your way toward the kitchen and reaching for everything you were going to need for him.

You came book moments later holding a small kit that you'd prepared, Chan was slumped against the wall looking pale and slightly green, if that was even possible. 

"I'm sorry," He mumbled as you dropped in front of him, taking his temperature before handing him some tablets.

"Don't be, baby," You whispered, giving him a small bottle of water before cleaning the toilet as he took everything you gave to him.

"You don't have to do all of this," He grumbled, laying his head against the wall as he watched you clean up the mess he'd made, before sitting down in front of him once again.

"I know," You smiled warmly at him, "I want to. Did you take everything?" You noticed the tablets you'd given to him were all gone and he mumbled "yes" tiredly making you frown a little,

"Bed. Come on." You told him, gently helping him up from the floor and guiding him into the bedroom, even now he was unsteady on his feet and swaying a little. 

"I'll be fine, I just need to get some food and I can go to work."

"You're going to work over my dead body." You told him, laying him down on the bed before laying a cold cloth on his forehead, his eyes finding yours as a small pout played on his lips.

"But-"

"No buts, I'll call JYPE myself and force them to put you on strict bed rest," You warned him as his cheeks began to turn pink.

"You too warm?" Concern dripped from your voice as you noticed the pink on his cheeks and he smiled, shaking his head slowly.

"Just happy to have you be so caring to me," He whined out as you gently covered him with a thin blanket, kissing his cheek.

"Try and get some sleep, there's a bucket beside the bed just in case you feel ill again." You promised him, hoping the anti-sickness tablets would help him even a little. He whimpered a little but nodded, his eyes fluttering shut as he was barely able to keep them open much longer.

MINHO:

Whenever Minho knew he was getting sick he was the type to sneak away and suffer in silence, he didn't want to be a burden to anyone else and he would hide as much as humanly possible. Only this time when he'd shown up to the dorms you were already standing in the kitchen and cooking something that smelled as though it unclogged his sinuses the second he took a bite.

"Good, you're back." You smiled warmly at him, running your hands over the apron you were wearing before making your way toward him. You took the overnight bag from his arms and placed it on the sofa,

"Go and jump in the bath I made for you," You ran your hands over his cheeks and felt how hot he was running despite it being below-freezing outside. 

"How did you know where I was?" He'd made sure to make the guy's promise not to tell you that he was coming to rest. They were under strict orders to tell you he was needed for practice a lot, he hated lying to you but he didn't want you to get sick and he didn't want to burden you.

"Minho, we've been together for a year, if you think I don't know where you slink off to whenever you're sick then we have a problem." You joked softly, placing a soft kiss on his jaw before making your way back to the kitchen.

As soon as he was done he was dressed in some PJs you'd laid out on the bed for him and the soup was waiting for him on the kitchen table,

"What did you make?" His voice was hoarse from how hard he'd been coughing lately,

"It's a soup, my grandmother used to make it whenever I got a cold, it's soft on your throat but it'll unclog your nose," You promised him as he sat down beside you, a small smile tugging on the corners of his lips.

"Thank you," He whispered,

"I know you hate it when people help you but I want to do this, baby, I want to help." You told him as you ran your hand over his, gently rubbing his skin as he nodded shyly at you. 

"I feel like a burden when I'm sick," He admitted begrudgingly.

"Don't. I enjoy getting to pamper you, usually, it's always you that pampers me," You laughed softly, giving him a spoon and starting to eat the soup together.

CHANGBIN:

A crash sounding from the living room made you jolt awake and reach for Changbin who wasn't beside you, your eyebrows knitted together as you stared down wondering where he was. It was almost two in the morning and it wasn't like him to get home so late from work, or even from parties whenever he and the boys were celebrating. 

"Shit," You heard a voice mumble before laughter sounded from the living room, followed by another crash making you head that way only to find Changbin bent down trying to clean something up from the floor. You flicked the light switch on only to find him trying to clean up glass.

"Binnie, what-"

"Shh! I can't wake Yn up," He laughed again, his body swaying slightly and you instantly knew what was wrong with him, he'd clearly been drinking too much that night.

"Lay down," You ordered, forcing him down onto the sofa and trying to get a good look at his hand, luckily he hadn't cut it on his gallant effort to clean up the broken vase that scattered the floors.

"Ynnnnn!" He yelled before he got that look on his face, his hands holding his stomach and you quickly darted to the kitchen, grabbing a bucket and running back to him, just in time before he barfed into the bucket you were holding. 

"Sorry," He grumbles, his head spinning as he held onto the bucket and kept his head inside, not daring to lift it in case he threw up again. You stared at him and shook your head, you knew that they were celebrating finishing their album tonight but you had no idea he'd come back to you like this. If you had, you would have prepared everything for him already.

"Don't move, okay?" You stared at him as he held up a thumb and you began to work your magic. Cleaning up the glass from the floor as good as you could before heading into the kitchen and grabbing some water, painkillers and orange juice. Adding everything onto a tray before making sure to grab him some plain bread to eat as soon as he was done throwing up. 

"You're the best," He told you as you placed the tray down on the coffee table and ran your fingers through his hair,

"I know," You teased, smirking down at him as he groaned, throwing up once again into the bucket in his hands, followed by a moan of disgust.

"I'm never drinking again," He told you, making you roll your eyes playfully,

"How many times have we been in this exact situation and you say that exact sentence?" You laughed, rubbing his back softly as he mumbled something about "meaning it this time."

HYUNJIN:

You pushed open the door to your shared apartment you had with Hyunjin and frowned a little, the usual welcoming scent of lavender you had burning was missing. Instead, a faint, unfamiliar mustiness hung in the air.

"Hyunjin?" You called out, walking further into the apartment and dropping off your bags, something was clearly wrong if there was no response from him. Hyunjin had been complaining about a headache the night before, but he brushed it off as a side effect of practising all day.  

"hyunnie?" You called out again, louder this time, as you made your way through the apartment toward the bedroom where you found the door slightly ajar.

There you found Hyunjin lying sprawled on the bed, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. A pillow over his head as he grumbled something about you being too loud. You hurried to his side, kneeling beside the bed and sighing a little, you slowly peeled back the pillow to find him screwing his eyes shut. The light hurt his eyes.

"Hey," You said softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead. "You're burning up. Why didn't you call me?" You breathed out,

"I didn't want to worry you," he mumbled, his eyes closing again as you shook your head at him, you hated when he refused to ask for help.

"I'm going to take care of you," You promised, taking in the sight of him and the bed, he did not look comfortable at all. 

"Let's get you comfortable first." You carefully untangled the sheets from around him, helping him sit up enough to drink some water. He sipped gratefully, his parched lips parting for more. Next, you rushed to the windows, opening them slightly but pulling the blinds down so the light from the afternoon sun wouldn't bother him.

You spent the next few hours by his side. You changed the washcloth on his head regularly, fetched medicine, and coaxed him into drinking more fluids. You'd told the boys he wouldn't be going to work for a few days and made sure he was going to be on bed rest for a while, or at least until he was better.

"You're the best partner anyone could ever wish for." He mumbled, his voice hoarse as you carefully handed him some tea, smiling warmly at him.

"Just drink the tea, no flirting." You winked at him before he sipped on the warm drink you'd made for him.

JISUNG:

Jisung had been under a lot of stress lately at work which should have been your first hint at what sight was going to await you as you walked into the dorms one night after work. Jisung was sprawled out on the sofa, looking as though he'd been through a week of no sleep and hadn't eaten properly.

"What are you doing here?" He hadn't meant for it to come out the way it had but he hadn't expected to see you tonight, he'd been looking forward to rotting away on the sofa for the entire night. 

"It's date night," You reminded him, pointing down at your outside that you'd spent hours picking before laying your bag down and kneeling beside Jisung who looked heartbroken that he had forgotten the date. 

"Babe...I-I'm sorry." He stuttered out but you'd put your hand on his forehead and bit down on your lip, he was already spiking a fever and you hadn't been here to know how long or how bad he had been. 

"Shh, it's fine. We can have a cosy night in." You suggested, shrugging off your jacket and going to search their cabinets in look for anything other than food. They had to have some sort of medication for when they got sick, right?

"Sit up," You whispered as you sat in front of Jisung, holding a jar of vapour rub in your hand and waiting for your boyfriend to inch forward. As soon as he did you carefully began to rub the cream into his chest, making sure your hands were warm enough so you didn't shock him.

"Thank you," He groaned, his voice sounding as though he'd been swallowing sand paper all day.

"I'll make you some tea and we can watch Howl's moving castle." You suggested, gently running your fingers through his hair and smiling at him with a warm smile.

FELIX:

You'd woken up earlier than intended this morning, went and made breakfast and came back to the bedroom to find Felix sitting up in the bed, his head in his hands as he tried to calm himself down from the wave of dizziness that had met him when he woke up. 

"You look like shit," You offered as you saw the state of him, trying to tease him softly.

"Thanks, that's really nice to hear from the love of my life," He coughed out with a weak smile, his voice sounded like he'd been eating nails for days and you hated that he was getting sick. 

"You should have texted me," You mumbled, running your hand over his head and checking for a fever, he was already starting to burn up which only confirmed that he was getting sick. 

"I don't want to bother you," He mumbled, his body aching as he laid down in the sheets and snuggled against them. Felix hated this, he was normally the caring one in the relationship. He wanted to be the one to look after you and right now he felt as though he was failing that.

"You're never a bother, Lixie." You whined at him, his eyes struggling to stay open as he gave into the feeling of what his body was telling him.

When he woke up again, the smell of chamomile and honey filled the air and you were sitting at the edge of his bed with a tray on your lap.

"Drink." You ordered, holding up a small cup of steaming tea, Felix knew better than to fight you on it and he took a sip, the warm liquid soothing his throat,

"You didn't have to do this." He coughed out, sitting up slightly and leaning against the headboard,

"Of course I did," You smirked as you replied. "You're always taking care of me. Let me return the favour." Felix sighed at you, pouting a little as he looked down at himself, stuck in bed for god knows how long. 

"I just hate being useless." You hated that he was beating himself up so much so you ran your hand over his cheek,

 "You're not useless, Lix. You're just human. Everyone gets sick."

"Not you," he mumbled.

"Especially me," You corrected, scoffing a little as you remembered the last time you'd gotten so sick you couldn't leave your bed. 

"Remember last winter when I had the flu? You stayed up all night making sure I was okay. It's my turn now." Felix frowned, his stubbornness warring a little since he knew you were right.

 "I just want to be the one taking care of you. It makes me feel… I don’t know, like I’m doing something right." Your expression softened as you reached out, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. 

"You do so much right, Lixie. You don't need to prove anything to me. Let me take care of you this time, okay?" He thought about it for a moment before nodding his head, relaxing against the pillows as you spent the night looking after him. Bringing him soup, fluffing his pillows, giving him everything he could ever need and more.

SEUNGMIN:

All week long Seungmin had been giving you the brush off whenever you tried to get him to go to yours or when you suggested going to spend time with him, you began to worry a little that something was really wrong and as you stepped into his apartment your fears were confirmed. 

"Kim Seungmin." You cried out seeing him lying on the sofa, sweat dripping down his forehead as he coughed into a tissue and whined at you for being too loud.

"Go home." He grumbled, a little harsher than he wanted but he couldn't risk you getting sick because of him, the last thing he wanted was for you to end up the way he was feeling right now. 

"No." You laughed, dropping your jacket onto the coat hook and making your way to the kitchen where you knew he had things he needed. 

"yn." He coughed up but you ignored him, preparing some tea before bringing it to him, laying it down on the coffee table and staring down at your boyfriend who appeared to be pouting at you.

"You're cute when you're pouting," You smirked, kissing his cheek softly before he moved away from you,

"You'll get sick," He moaned, shaking his head at you and covering his mouth with a tissue as if it was going to stop the germs from getting to you.

"I'll be fine, just let me take care of you." You stayed where you were standing and he sighed, knowing better than to argue with you about something since you were just as stubborn as him usually. 

"Go to bed, I'll clean up and make you some soup." He nodded, sluggishly making his way to his room and getting under the sheets, shutting his eyes for a few minutes.

A few days later Seungmin finally began to feel human again and you'd cleaned up the entire apartment, opening the windows for fresh air and bringing him hot soup for every meal so he would be nursed back to health. 

JEONGIN: 

You always said you had a sixth sense about when those you cared about were going to get sick which was probably why you'd walked into your home after work one night already carrying everything you were going to need to help Jeongin feel better.

"How did you know?" He mumbled as he saw the pharmacy bag in your hand as well as a grocery bag that seemed to be filled to the brim with ingredients. 

"Because I'm secretly magic," You smirked, hating to see him laid up on the sofa surrounded by tissues, his nose already red from blowing it so much and you smiled weakly. 

"Magcially good looking." He said, trying to pass the comment off as flirty but because he was sick it just didn't work and he coughed into his hands, whining a little at the pain in his chest.

"Come on, take these baby." You offered, handing him the box of flu tablets before opening a fresh bottle of water and taking away the one he had been using.

"From now on, a fresh bottle every time or let me wash the one you're using." You instructed him, taking some of the rubs you'd gotten from the doctors and gently massaging it into his bare chest, watching as he stared at you with love in his eyes. As much as Jeongin hated being sick he adored this caring side of you, getting to be pampered by you was one of his favourite things in the world.

"Are you going to make your famous soup?" He shouldn't have sounded as excited as he did but you only ever made it when someone was sick and refused to do it any other time.

"Yes. But only if you go and get in a warm bath, let your body soak." You kissed his cheek and watched as he practically raced to the bathroom.

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[petew21-blog]

Stop the bullying

Aiden was your typical straight bro, just lifting and pumping his body with his bro in the campus gym and in the afternoons playing football. He still couldn't let go of his high school ways of bullying people, so he tormented them even here in college.

How could people let him? Well he was a jock and a very favourite nephew of the dean and everytime a problem occured, the dean very efficiently solved it by punishing the other student. Efficient right?

That was until Aiden and Tom tormeneted yet another one of his gay classmates just right outside of the parking lot by beating him right next to one of the cars. What Aiden didn't know was that a very well known stoner was sitting on the other side.

Trevor was incredibly stoned, but not that much to save one of his fellow classmates. He entered the scene slightly confused what was happening

Trevor:"You guys would mind stopping this shit? It's interrupting my meditating session"

Aiden:"Get lost stoner or you're next"

Trevor:"I don't want to be rude, but I have to warn you. If you won't stop, I'll have to stop you myself" Trevor took of his beanie threw it on the ground and carefully placed the lit joint next to it

Aiden:"Just shut the fuck up already" and threw a punch at Trevor. Trevor only smiled and didn't even flinch. Maybe it was because of the fact that he knew the ounch would go right through him and it would be the needed thing to let him possess Aiden. Trevor got sucked in right in front of the other two guys. It took him a while to position himself

He woke up to the the sight of schocked Thomas and the poor gay fella on the ground trying to cover himself

Trevor positioned his cap on the head. "Ahh, you guys just left the gym right? Man, he reeks so much." and sniffed his new armpits obssesively. Then he took off his shirt, throwing it next to the gay guy and just examined his new torso. Smiling and touching his new chest and abs. That's when his eyes widened as he saw the joint on the ground slowly burning away. "Oh no. Can't let it go to waste!"

Thomas just kept staring with his mouth wide open.

Trevor leaned closer to Thomas and started talking:"I'm not sure you understand the situation that'sd happening here right now Thomas. But if you don't want this guy on the ground to take your body next, I suggest you keep your motuh shut about all of this and run away"

Thomas looked back only once as he was running away from his friend, or was he somewhere in there still? He might never know

Trevor reached out his hand to the guy on the ground:"It's safe now, man. Promise that this arm won't hurt you anymore."

The guy hesistated but than took his hand. He stood up, painfully grunting and holding his stomach.

Trevor inhaled the smoke from the joint and asked the guy:"So... what's your name man? You're ok?"

"I'm Martin, I... I think I am ok. So... Are you...? Who are you?"

"Well my name is Trevor, or Aiden now, I guess. haha. And don't worry I won't possess you. It's a power I use only when I think it's helping others, or.... when I need to get some confiscated weed. You wouldn't believe how much the police has stashed. And how ripped some of them are haha"

Martin was checking out Aiden's body as Trevor was enjoying his smoking, getting in the mood more rapidly than he was used to in his own body. Martin noticed the beanie lying on the ground. He tried to reach it but it was still painful. Trevor noticed and grabbed it himself

"Haha, I think Aiden will have a much needed style change. Gone are the days of the jock, in with the chill"

"So... Trevor? You can actually make other people possess someone?"

"Yes, sir. Who do you have in mind? I would be very happy to let you pick someone, but... morally I would be happier if it would be someone not very honest."

"Well... there is this girl in my class, Samantha and she is a total bitch. Just like Aiden. Would you let me possess her?"

Trevor:"Samantha? You wanna possess a girl? But I thought you were gay, man."

Martin:"Yeah, well that's the thing. Her boyfriend is Marc, the quarterback. And I had a crush on him since forever. I don't care if I am a girl or a boy. As long as I am with him."

Trevor:"Well, as you wish sir"

vv

Trevor did as he promised and than went on as his day would normally go. Not like he had anything planned anyway. His phone kept buzzing about Aiden's football pracitce, but he didn't care. His destination now was the locla skatepark. To Trevor, the swap meant a few things: he now had a stable flow of cash, he was hotter, he was fitter and he didn't have to worry about his future anymore

When Trevor finished with his skating he got the courage to enter Aiden's home. He was welcomed by Aiden's girlfriend who he then went on to have a very wild sex in the bed. Trevor didn't mind that she was a girl, just one of the few perks of being a bisexual. You get a much bigger dating pool.

Trevor let his new girlfriend sleep next to him and right as he was in the bed, he proceeded to lit up another of his joints he grabbed on the way.

Naked, high on weed and exploring his body. Enjoying the hard dick in his hand. Inhalimg the musk in his armpits. He couldn't get enough. He kept jerking off, thrusting his hips while caressing the muscles with the joint in his hands. So tight and compact. Everything was his now. The whole world was

The girlfriend woke up, schocked about the stateshe found him. Still jerking and smoking weed. She kept shouting about something but Trevor only heard himself saying:"Close the door behind you when you're leaving" and still kept jerking off.

And as she left, he unleashed streams of cum and shot up right up to his face. "Damn, Aiden. You cum a lot. I love this"

The months went by and the ex-straight ex-jock ex-bully was no a very newly transformed stoner, skater, but still maintaining his beatiful muscularity, bisexual man, who now kept dating and screwing a few women and men. Who knows how Aiden's feeling right now, right? Maybe he would enjoy the fuck that his body is high right now fucking a beautiful girl. Maybe he wouldn't really enjoy that his body had a huge dick in his ass. Who knows

Another story request from the inbox: Hey love your work! Thoughts on having a tough straight college jock getting possessed by a bisexual stoner/skater, enjoying his musk & muscles and becoming a laid back weed smoking himbo?

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

When TXT is making you feel comfortable: habits, routines and rituals that occur when they prioritize your comfort

5 short scenarios per member listed

wc (in total): 1943

no warnings

When Yeonjun is making you comfortable...

... he has his apartment stocked with products that make you feel at home. He has your favorite snacks. He bought your favorite clothes as substitutes that he keeps in his closet for when you stay over. He has some copies of your favorite books and gets some magazines you enjoy. If you're a person who menstruates, he of course has all possible period products ready. If your hobby is painting, he has all utensils at his place. If you are currently into lifting weights and working out, he creates a little sport corner for you. 

'Top drawer on the right', he yells after you when you leave is room to go to the kitchen, because you feel like having a snack.

'Look at the bag in my closet', he instructs when you spilled on your favorite shirt, while he gets the detergent ready to wash your shirt right away.

... he is with you when you decide to face your fears. If he can and it makes sense, he is with you in person, but otherwise, he offers you to be on a call with him or text him. One or the other way,  he will be with you.

'Three, two, one and you go inside, okay? I'll stay on the call and you can return right to my voice if you want to, yeah? Now, my brave baby, three, two, and one'.

... he is his crazy self around you and is the happiest when you slowly allow yourself to let your guard down and become more unhinged yourself. 

'That doesn't sound like a chicken. My donkey impression totally beats yours. Try again'. 

... he directly protects you from others. Whether it's strangers or friends, encountering you with inappropriate intentions or ignorant jokes, he shields you. 

'Keep walking', he spits at a man who is eyeing you up and down when you are outside. Yeonjun pushes himself between you and the crowd immediately and takes your hand to pull you behind him, not letting go of you until he feels like it's rather safe again. 

... he lets you sleep. Regardless if you fall asleep on his bed, taking up all the space or of you fall asleep directly on him, he lets you. The only time he moves you is when your position looks rather uncomfortable and possibly damaging if you remain lying  like that for too long. 

'Oh? Am I that comfy?', he whispers as he looks down on your sleeping figure on his chest, smiling to himself.

When Soobin is making you comfortable...

... he subtly bends his knees or leans against an accessible surface when he's talking to you, to not tower over you as much.

'Oh, why I'm leaning against the wall like this? I'm just a bit tired, that's all'.

... he carries all your bags at a shopping trip and cheers you on in every outfit you are trying out.

'This looks beautiful on you. Wait? Feels a bit too tight? Give me a second. I'll bring it in a different size', he says and rushes into the isles with bags already dangling from his shoulders. He always has capacity to carry just one more thing if it's for you.

... he never, NEVER, distances himself first when you hug. He always waits for you to be ready to let go, because he doesn't even want to give you one nuanced opportunity to doubt him wanting to be with you.

'I'm not letting go before you're ready', he whispers when you were already in his embrace for ten minutes, standing in the middle of the room. It doesn't matter if you are happy, sad, scared, worried. He is constantly ready to be your safe space. 

... he gives you the biggest side-eye. As much as he admires you, he doesn't put you on a pedestal. When your jokes aren't funny or you say something particularly dumb, he will silently let you know and expects to be treated the same. 

'What do you mean unicorns weren't real at least for one period of time on this earth? I literally saw a documentary about it!', he argues and has to contain himself to not burst into a laughter, seeing you shaking your head in disbelief with a big frown on your face. Those situations are so funny and carefree to him. 

... he has your back regarding everything. Regardless of how unrealistic or silly something may seem, he is always there, encouraging you to at least give it a shot. As uncertain a situation, a project, a try may be, he remains your certain stability. 

'So what if it's stupid? You're curious of it. It excites you, so go and see if it could be working for you', he says and adds that regardless of what happens, in the end of the day you can just return to him as always. 

When Beomgyu is making you comfortable...

... he waves at you when he sees you walking towards him, but is surprised to see you turning around to look at the other people who are walking down the street in an attempt to figure out if he might be meeting someone else.

'I was waving at you, you know', he says after greeting you when you are finally standing in front of him.

... he is puzzled to find you wearing long pajama pants as it is a warm summer night during which he is staying over at your apartment. He toys with the fabric when you sit down next to him and experimentally pulls the fabric up your leg a bit. 

'Isn't it way too warm in those?', he questions and listens to you negating in an obvious lie. 

'Just wear shorts. I won't do or think anything inappropriately only because I see your skin', he assures and when you leave to your bedroom to get changed, he adds, 'And don't you dare forcing yourself into that bra any longer'. 

... he observes you lingering a bit closer around him than usually when you feel particularly down. 

'Want to hug?', he simply asks and opens his arms when you shyly nod, inviting you into his embrace at your own pace. 

... he slides on the bench to sit right next to you when you are particularly anxious in a cafe, and he opens his hand as he watches you trying to hide your own trembling one. 

'I'll hold you', he offers and waits for you to place your palm on his. Then he gently encloses his fingers around your hand and makes you shift your focus by asking you to count every brown item you could see in the room. 

... he lets you wear his clothes, either when you're freezing and need extra layers or when it's warm outside but you don't want to wear too revealing clothes. 

'I have a whole closet, just try my clothes'. 

When Taehyun is making you comfortable...

... he doesn't interrupt you. When you are speaking, regardless of how loud and enthusiastic or how quiet and hesitant you are when talking, he listens patiently. 

'No, keep talking. I wanna hear', he encourages when you insecurely stop yourself from sharing. 

... he challenges you. If you want to do something, but doubt yourself, he makes it into playful game to lift the pressure off your shoulders, stepping away from the burden of actively existing. 

'One hour? Okay, one hour and then we'll see who manages to write more applications. Winner gets, hmm, one wish. Anything? Yeah? Let's go', he cheers and starts typing right away.

... he coexists with you in silence. Grocery shopping, cleaning, reading, whatever it is, he doesn't force conversations. Eye contact, gentle smiles, pointing at items, that's already such richness of mundanity. 

'They have your ice cream on sale', he informs and watches you hurrying down the isle to grab some packages, happily smiling at him. 

... he directly teaches and explains things. He doesn't leave room for any condescension. If you don't know something or make a mistake and he knows then he just explains. If you want to learn something he already knows how to do, he offers to teach you if you want. 

'I know this choreo. Want me to play dance teacher?', he asks in a laugh, happy at the thought of spending time with you while you explore your interest. 

... he simply assures and compliments you. 

'You're doing great today', he beams when you tick off another point on your to-do-list and later on doodles a little smiley face on the bottom of your paper. 

When Kai makes you comfortable...

... he takes interest in your interests to genuinely connect with you when you share pieces of your realms of curiosity. 

'Omg, the new episode of your favorite show is online', he informs you in excitement and watches you grabbing your phone to check it yourself. To the question if it would be fine if you watch it now, he just nods and asks if he can join you. 

... he reserves spots for you. In restaurants and cafes he always makes sure you have a place to arrive to when he is there earlier or you are definitely running late. At home he has one plushie that is assigned to you, so it can occupy a chair or one side of the bed, keeping others away from your destined space. 

'Over here', he says loudly when he sees you entering the cafe. He towers over the present people and waves you over to his table, where an empty chair and a cookie or fruit bowl or whatever snack you like, is waiting for you. 

... he laughs with you. He genuinely enjoys your humor and he will not leave you hanging whenever you are telling a joke and make a sassy remark. When you are being clumsy, he laughs it off with you. There is no second of insecure embarrassment when he is around. 

'Yo! I tripped over that exact edge yesterday, too!', he squeals as he holds you by your arm to prevent you from falling and bursts into laughter simultaneously with you when your eyes meet. 

... he lets you be shy. You talk too quietly for people to understand what you're saying? He translates calmly and with a sense of protection over you, his expression telling the listener not to dare making an unnecessary comment regarding your behavior. He lets you hide behind him when you are too shy to face someone or something. 

'Come here', he whispers when he notices your shyness and opens his jacket for you to step closer to him where he can hide you between the fabric and his body, telling people who look confused, that he's freezing a bit.

... he always responds to you. Any question you could possibly ask will get a useful answer and even if it's just him informing over his state of uncertainty regarding a topic or a repeated answer to a repeated question. He doesn't waste time engaging in the reality in the form that  it matters to you.

'Yes, of course I'd love you if you were a worm'; 'My first thought is that I don't mind either, but I feel like I tend to prefer pizza over burger today'; I said it minimum hundred times already, but here is another reminder: You look great and I am going to cuddle you to sleep in every state of your body'. 

[ventique18]

~ Thoughtless ~

Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.

Malleus is in love with you.

How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?

So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.

He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.

You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.

There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.

... Until...

"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"

You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.

Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.

What the hell.

He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?

That son of a--

Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.

Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.

"Why are you here?" You spit out.

His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.

"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"

"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."

"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."

You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?

"Fuck?"

He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."

"Our wed--"

And it clicks in your head.

'My betrothed.'

'What flowers would you like?'

'Our wedding.'

It's you. The betrothed is you.

You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,

"I like wisteria."

It's just, so naturally, him.

"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."

[astonmartinii]

HI! Hope you are well! I have no clue if you are taking requests or not, but if you are, could you maybe do a smau with carlos sainz x ferrari!reader? Where the reader is part of the ferrari family, and when her father passes away, she will take on the company? And like, all of the tifosi love her loads, bcs she's just lovely to them all no matter what, and they see carlos slowly 'fall in love' with her then soft launch their relationship, and it turns out they had been dating for ages? If you can, ty!!

are you going to be my girl? | carlos sainz social media au

pairing: carlos sainz x fem ferrari!reader

it's not a HR violation if you were dating before she became your boss and it's not nepotism if it's her company.

yournameferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 872,309 others

yournameferrari: first race weekend, let's go girls 🏁

view all comments

user1: i am SCARED i am weirdly optimistic 🤔

user2: i have faith, the article about her and the whole new team... she's cooking

carlossainz55: excited to take her out for a spin

yournameferrari: lets keep all the spinning for the doughnuts at the end of the season please

carlossainz55: i'll try my best, no promises though

yournameferrari: okay stop commenting on my post and get ready to drive, you're wearing my name

carlossainz55: let me know when you want to wear mine

user3: yall it's not even been one race and carlos is flirting with his boss, they weren't lying f1 drivers really are fearless

sebastianvettel: feels like just the other day when you first visted the garage, you'll smash it!

yournameferrari: thanks seb! can't wait to see you again, give hanna and the kids my love

user4: i love that she's 23 but literally talks like a grandma

user5: the stress of ferrari does tend to age a person

charles_leclerc: forza ferrari ❤️ we'll make you proud

yournameferrari: i have all the faith in the world in you boys

user6: a ferarri owner who actually publicly supports the drivers? i've prayed for times like this

user7: ahhh i met her this weekend and she really loves the tifosi like she spent so long with us and signed as much as she could

carlossainz55

liked by yournameferrari, landonorris and 893,209 others

carlossainz55: great weekend all round, happy to be back on the podium - thank you to y/n and all the team for building us a car we can win in !!

view all comments

user9: don't shoot me but did we all see the way carlos was looking at y/n on the podium

user10: bestie i hate to tell you but there was like 100 ferrari workers at that podium he could've been looking at literally any of them

yournameferrari: you boys made the ferrari name proud this weekend ❤️

carlossainz55: couldn't have done it without you and the team

yournameferrari: you're too kind, take pride in your own achievements

carlossainz55: only if you celebrate with me

user11: are we witnessing the smooth operator in real time?

user12: it's like seeing a unicorn in the woods

landonorris: congrats chilli 🌶️ are we all celebrating or is it just you two?

carlossainz55: all of us? why wouldn't it be everyone?

landonorris: no reason ....

user13: maybe it's because carlos' eyes pop out of his head like a looney tunes whenever he's around y/n ferrari

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc

carlossainz55: you realise i get the notifications when you guys like comments, right?

landonorris: well my PR team wouldn't like it if i commented it myself

carlossainz55: i wonder if there is a reason for that 🤔

user14: carlando domestics in the comment section we are so back

scuderiaferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 803,451 others

tagged: yournameferrari

scuderiaferrari: no race this weekend? we'll give you a #️⃣ asky/n to give you your ferrari content this weekend!

view all comments

user15: what is your favourite race?

yournameferrari: besides the obvious choices of imola and monza, i really enjoy suzuka and spa !

user16: who is a driver you would've loved to have managed?

yournameferrari: the obvious answer is michael schumacher, but i also would've loved to work with seb and kimi and jean alesi!

user17: how do you feel about taking over ferrari so young?

yournameferrari: it's definitely daunting, especially when no one really knew i existed. i was scared when it came to the staff overhaul as they had been there for so long and i was scared that it would massively backfire, but so far so good.

user18: tbf it's been a long time coming

user19: what would you do if you weren't owning ferrari?

yournameferrari: to be honest, ferrari and motorsport is all i have ever known, but, i also enjoy most other sports like football, ice skating and golf. but outside of sport i would've loved to pursue writing, i love poetry and essays!

user20: GOLF? cue carlos sainz in 3...2...1

carlossainz55: let's go for a round after my next sim session ⛳️

yournameferrari: only if you're ready to lose

user21: i am having ... feelings about this pairing

user22: how do you feel about charles' music?

yournameferrari: i always think it is good to have another passion, especially with how all-consuming formula one can become. i personally love charles' music and will often put it on when i do yoga or read (though my favourite is AUS23)

charles_leclerc: thank you y/n !!!

user23: is this *rubs eyes* an owner with a good relationship with the drivers???

f1gossipgirl

liked by user28, user29 and 4,130 others

tagged: yournameferrari, pierregasly

f1gossipgirl: AWKWARD MOMENT ALERT 🚨 y/n ferrari had harsh word for pierre gasly when they crossed paths in the paddock. gasly, whose dangerous driving put carlos sainz in the medical centre, seemed shocked that ferrari would have a problem with him. sources in the paddock said that ferrari admonished the frenchman, "you have a lot of gall in the media gasly, everyone saw how dangerous that was, you can't blame your own shortcomings on alpha tauri or adrian newey now. keep your car away from my drivers or we'll have a real problem." oop. allegedly gasly only replied with a wink and a "anything for you sweetheart" which caused y/n to storm off and knock his shoulder on the way past. who is in the right?

view all comments

user30: THAT'S MY OWNER RIGHT THERE

user31: y/n owned gasly

user32: not only was he dangerous on track he's also super disrespectful off, y/n is expressing her concerns over her driver who could've been seriously injured and he just flirts with her ???

user33: pierre is super in the wrong here but also it's so refreshing to see someone in management actually have the drivers back

user34: gone were the days of begging ferrari to even appeal penalties

user35: my friend was in the paddock and apparently vasseur had to hold sainz back after he was told about what pierre had done

user36: the way he's more mad that pierre disrespected y/n than nearly killing him

user37: idk why she's getting involved, no need to talk to the drivers like that, you're the owner, know your place

liked by pierregasly

user38: something insidious about the man liking a comment telling a woman to know her place 🤨

user39: he acts the victim in every situation and yet HE is the common denominator

user40: after ^^^ this whole mess i need carlos to scrap pierre

user41: i feel like he actually would that man is in love with y/n lol

yournameferrari

liked by carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 903,451 others

yournameferrari: happy summer break everyone !! going into the break leading the constructor's championship lead is amazing but we aim to finish the season with both trophies back in maranello. see you in zandvoort x

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user42: A MAN?

user43: i was delusional to think that a young successful and smart woman wasn't cuffed :(

sebastianvettel: are you still planning to swing by switzerland?

yournameferrari: we'll be there!

this comment was deleted

yournameferrari: i'll be there!

user44: girl we saw that

user45: the way she posts her soft launch but deletes a comment that says she might bring him to visit seb?

user46: visiting seb is a big deal tbf

user47: the way carlos HAS to have her notifications on mans was here after 30 seconds

user48: has better reaction time for y/n's instagram post than a race start 😭

carlossainz55: working on my swing, ready for our round of golf

yournameferrari: get ready to be humbled

carlossainz55: if you're as pro as you say i may have to upgrade us to crazy golf

yournameferrari: as long as i get the red ball

carlossainz55: deal

user49: are we FLIRTING 👀 ???????

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yournameferrari and 703,458 others

tagged: yournameferrari

carlossainz55: took a break from swimming to get my ass whooped by my boss on the golf course

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user50: oh the fit - Y/N CAME TO PLAY

landonorris: just how bad was the whopping? before i propose a paddock golf tournament

carlossainz55: she'll ruin the sport for you it's not fair

landonorris: you didn't put up any sort of fight?

carlossainz55: i TRIED but as soon as i saw the custom clubs i knew it was over

yournameferrari: i have a confession, i was literally on my college golf team, i had a lot of practice sorry x

carlossainz55: so you're basically a professional? that's comforting

yournameferrari: not really a professional but a very dedicated amateur

user51: babe you literally won the national championship at stanford stop playing with this man

yournameferrari: oops? 😬

user52: right, i don't mean to sound crazy, but i have a theory. the third pic looks very familiar to me, is it a lake in switzerland? the switzerland one SEBASTIAN VETTEL lives in and that y/n ferrari said she was going to visit this summer with someone?

user53: i fear you've made a point

user54: as much as they'd be literally the hottest couple in the world ... is it not a bit weird for carlos to date his boss? like... also what does this mean for potential favouritism?

user55: i get those concerns but we've already seen this season that decisions have been made both ways. unlike the binotto era ferrari actually are making the two first drivers thing work

user56: based on what y/n has said in the past i don't think she'd favour carlos because of a relationship, i think she's too ruthless to potentially sacrifice points to benefit her potential boyfriend

f1

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 1,239,861 others

tagged: carlossainz55

f1: the smooth operator is back to winning ways with his win under the singapore lights. it was a double podium for ferrari and a DNF for sergio perez means that ferrari are constructors champions once again!

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user60: Y/N FERRARI THE WOMAN YOU ARE AND HOLY SHIT HER AND CARLOS KISSING DID SOMETHING TO ME

user61: we really went from xavi and not having any tyres to proper professionals and the WCC trust the WDC will be coming back home soon

carlossainz55: tifosi, we'll get the big one next year ❤️

user62: CONSTRUCTOR CHAMPIONS AND YOU BAGGED Y/N FERRARI U WON AT LIFE

landonorris: so you made me find out with everyone else? i see how it is

carlossainz55: sorry landito, didn't intend for anyone to find out just yet but i guess i got a little carried away..

yournameferrari: a little?

carlossainz55: sorry but i've been good all year and finally got the win and the championship i couldn't help myself (you also looked so good sorry)

yournameferrari: i guess i can give you that (you're also very sexy post-race)

charles_leclerc: well i for one am super happy that i never opened the door when i heard a suspicious sound coming from y/n's office

yournameferrari: omg delete please i stubbed my toe i swear !!!!

charles_leclerc: no one is believing that i'm sorry

carlossainz55: we've never done anything untoward on ferrari property

landonorris: untoward? who are you?

carlossainz55: my gf is super duper college educated and it's rubbing off on me

landonorris: AHAHAHA RUBBING OFF

yournameferrari: 🤨

landonorris: sorry.

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, yournameferrari and 1,034,510 others

tagged: yournameferrari

carlossainz55: suprise ! i guess it wasn't to be just ours forever, but i love you y/n and will give everything to you and your name x

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user62: boyfriend in the first slide and girlfriend in the others he's so real

yournameferrari: i know this secret was hard for you to keep so i'm proud of you regardless, i love you 🫶

carlossainz55: honestly any time anyone in the paddock flirted with you i thought i would explode

yournameferrari: i've seen your dm requests, spare me

carlossainz55: but now they know, i can unleash all of my pictures of you and i can flex on everyone

user63: dream threesome list just got a new update

landonorris: first slide for me i know that's right

carlossainz55: i am forgiven for not telling you about my relationship? the two years were tough

landonorris: TWO YEARS?

carlossainz55: your tone sounds kinda off

landonorris: you can shove your first slide up your ass 👍 TWO YEARS?????

carlossainz55: tbf i couldn't really announce to the world that i was dating the woman who would someday become the owner of my team

landonorris: give me three business days and i'll be okay

scuderiaferrari: parents ❤️

charles_leclerc: happy for you guys but never ask me to take pictures of you again x

yournameferrari: you did such a good job though!

charles_leclerc: unless i see a photographer bonus in my contract i will not be third wheeling for free

yournameferrari: noted (you're not getting the bonus)

charles_leclerc: it was worth the try

yournameferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 1,035,556 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yournameferrari: what a crazy first season. i am unbelievably proud of the boys and the team, we'll bring both championships back to maranello next season ❤️

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user64: she is everything i want to be

user65: tbf after last season i never thought we would win a race this season and her overhaul and ruthlessness has actually changed the game. also her and carlos are super cute

carlossainz55: i love you and thank you for our season. here's to the best winter break with you

yournameferrari: finally you can spend christmas the ferrari way

user66: how do we also get an invite to this christmas.. do you have any brothers? cousins? uncles?

carlossainz55: you're so so so beautiful, pretty, bewitching, ravishing, stunning and irresistible

yournameferrari: i love you too handsome

carlossainz55: can you also humble my dad at golf please and thank you

yournameferrari: we'll go doubles for the sainz golf tournament and have NO MERCY

user67: someone tell y/n the season is over and that she doesn't need to ruin sainz snr's christmas on the golf course

yournameferrari: the ferrari name never rests sorry not sorry

user68: yeah yeah the constructor championship finally came back to ferrari but this relationship is the real win from this season

user69: carlos finally found someone as old money as him

user70: and is actually old money, babes has that ferrari money

carlossainz55: i can retire early and be the house husband

yournameferrari: you will not retire early i expect you to be kicking it in that car until you're at least alonso's age

carlossainz55: but after that i can be the house husband a HAB?

yournameferrari: to your hearts content :) no one prettier i'd want on my arm x

note: hope you enjoyed i was BATTLING the writers block on this one lol. but i hope this is what you were looking for

[echobx]

reader is invited on the My Druthers boat by ward, but Sarah and her have a fight and is forced to switch rooms with wheezie, making her share the bed with rafe. End up making out and cuddling!!

author's note: I might've gone a tiny bit off-road on this lol but I think it's still pretty good.

warnings: making out, edging

"Why did you even invite me then!" you yell at Sarah and slam the door shut behind you, your bag hanging over your shoulders and tears brimming in your eyes. You prod upstairs, deciding that you could just sleep on the couch until you got home the next day. What you hadn't expected was a half naked Rafe walking in just moments later and giving you a rather perplexed look. "What she do?" is all he says and you huff, falling down on the couch behind you. "You wouldn't want to know or understand it." "I asked, didn't I?" he says and walks over to you, holding out a small bottle of water. You take it with a small thanks and drink it all in a matter of seconds. You hadn't really had any time to think about how hot it would be up here, with most of the AC only going for the bedrooms during the night. "I told her that it's stupid to trust her new Pogue boyfriend," you shake your head. "Yeah, never trust a Pogue," Rafe nods. "Exactly!" you exclaim, happy that he gets you. "You could sleep in my room. I'll tell Wheezie to go sleep with Sarah." Rafe's proposal seems too good to be true, especially with his bare chest and grey sweats... "Y/n?" Rafe asks, his eyebrows cocked up and you feel caught when you look up into his blue eyes. "Yes, sorry. That would be very nice of you. But I should just sleep up here," you politely decline. If just seeing him was making your head spin you could only imagine what sleeping in his bed would do to you. "Nonsense," Rafe proclaimes and take his bag with you, not accepting a different answer.

You lie next to him, a few pillows in the middle that he put there for your comfort. "It would've been unbearably hot up there. Trust me," he sighs and you can only think about how unbearably hot you felt right now too. Lying next to him in your tiny PJ's and your mind running wild with all the things that could happen. "Thank you. It's really kind," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady. You focus on the soft humming of the AC and the steady breathes that Rafe lets out. Yet it's all too overwhelming to you, but when you start to hum, he removes the pillow that keeps his face hidden from you. "Do I make you uncomfortable? I can sleep on the floor, if you want." "No, I'm just- It's confusing," you whisper. "What?" Rafe smirks, he doesn't need to pretend that he hasn't noticed how you look at him while doing your very best to keep a distance. "You being nice to me. I mean, you never talk to me," you say and he breathes a chuckle. "Sarah told me to stay away, and for once I agreed that it'd be better." "Why?" you turn around to face him, placing your hands under your cheek while gazing at him. "I'd ruin you," he shrugs as if it's the most normal thing to say to you. "What if I don't care?" you whisper and he laughs. "I was afraid of that."

Maybe you wouldn't have done it if his laugh hadn't taunted you this badly, but as soon as the pillows hit the floor you found yourself in his arms. His lips were softer than you had imagined and his hands groped at your hips. Sharing breath and spit as his tongue danced with yours and made your closed eyes roll back. "Need more," you breathe against him as his lips travel over your neck, sucking right at your sweet spot and eliciting a moan from you that sounds almost pornographic. "Fuck, baby, you gotta keep quiet," Rafe muses and kisses you into your diligent nod. His hand slips down in between your body, under your shorts where he starts to run his fingers over your drenched slip. "You're so wet f'me." He rasps and you whimper. "Please, I need you, Rafe." "Gonna fuck you good, but not now, baby," he hushes against your lips and pulls away completely, leaving you needy and on edge. "What are you doing?" you complain. "Making sure you're for real, and not just using me to get back at my sis," he says and gets up. He places his pillow on the rug and lies down. "Goodnight, y/n," he sighs and you listen to him fall asleep, incapable of relieving yourself of the need he had brought up in you.

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @hoe4sunarin @m2m2m2 @mochimms @itsme-again

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Wait until i got you in my hands (or in this case under my jaw 🦈)

Anyway since you're asking fluff for Simon (and i hope you don't twist it in the end because I'll trust you for this once and you're not Chucky), what about Simon having cuteness aggression, everybody? Mmhm you have chubby face and it's undeniable fact that they sometimes look like dumpling or steamed buns. Just Simon can't keep his hands from touching or pinching your cheeks, and even better if he also bit them.

mercy plss sharkieeee 🦈 as always ty for the ideas tho 💖 happy to see u again!!!

Simon loves your chubby and adorable face

1.

“What Simon? Why you keep staring at me?”

“dumplings”

“what dumplings?”

“your cheeks.”

“huh?...SIMON STOP CHEWING MY CHEEK—$;@/!@;&”

2.

You two are lying on your shared bed. You’re facing him and scrolling your phone, too concentrated on the fanfic you’re reading that you haven’t notice Simon’s gaze on your face.

“...” you expression’s same as straight face emoji when your lover abruptly pinches your cheeks.

“sorry.” he says without any apology in his tone while kneading your cheeks.

“My face isn’t mochi, Simon.”

“I know.”

“Then can you stop rubbing them like they are?”

“No.”

3.

A nice Sunday morning, peaceful, and you leisurely walk to the living room, expecting seeing Simon there as usual.

“Good morning, baby.” You greet him immediately when you see his figure, his back’s facing you, seeming busy doing something.

“Hey, love.” He gives you a kiss on your cheek like he always do, but he sounds a bit of excited today.

“What do we have for breakfast?”

“I make a you.”

“What does that mean?”

You lean closer to him when he hands you the plate.

“This is you.”

“...”

You don’t even want to argue when you see two little buns are placing at each side of a smiling face egg that’s grinning at you.

4.

Simon gets kicked out to buy the groceries after the breakfast.

“He better remember to buy some ice cream for me” You mumble.

Well, he does keep that in mind when he comes back an hour later.

“Got you some ice creams.” Simon tells you while fishing them out under your expecting eyes.

“New brand?” You pick up the carton when you can’t recognize the brand of it.

“...Simon.”

“It looks like you, it’s cute.” He doesn’t forget to give your cheeks a few pokes whilst you staring at the rabbit mascot on the box with two obviously chubby cheeks.

5.

(later, Simon texting)

Ghost: Soap, how to apologize to your partner

Soap: what did you do to them LT.?

Ghost: I just showed my love to their cheeks

Soap: Not you anger them with same reason again

Soap: Send some cute pictures to them and buy them some snacks?

Ghost: Can I send this?

Soap: I guess you just want to die, LT.

[steveshairychest]

Steve hates February 14th.

It's a constant reminder that he is alone, that no one ever wants to stick around with him long enough to celebrate Valentine's Day. Most of them leave after one night together.

It's also his birthday. The former heartthrob of Hawkins High was born on Valentine's Day, but he can't even get himself a date. Or a birthday party. Every year that they were around, his parents would go out for their annual Valentine's Day dinner and leave Steve to celebrate his birthday on his own. He stopped associating the day with his birthday by the time he was 13.

Now, he spent the day giving out roses and chocolates to all his friends so that they feel special, so that they don't feel as left out and forgotten as he did for his whole life.

Dustin and Mike fake gag when he gives them both a box of their favourite chocolate and Will blushes and stumbles through a thank you while holding his chocolates to his chest. He got Max and Lucas a big box of chocolates to share on their date.

Robin smacks a dramatic wet kiss to his cheek when he gifts her a bunch of sunflowers (her favourite flower), she also slips something into his pocket when no one's looking and whispers, "Happy birthday." He pulls her into a tight hug and thanks her quietly.

Steve spent a lot of time debating what to get Eddie. Their friendship felt like something more, but neither of them has put a label on what the hell they are to each other, so he decides to keep it simple. He rocks up to Eddie's new trailer with a box of chocolates under his arm and a small bunch of roses clutched tightly in his hands. He's so fucking nervous he forgets to knock.

After gently knocking, the door is pulled open and Steve nearly stumbles down the steps because Eddie is wearing a fucking suit. An all black three piece suit with his hair tied up. He looks hot. So hot all Steve can do is stare.

Eddie groans and runs a hand down his face, careful not to smudge his eye-liner. "Damn it, Harrington. You're not supposed to be here." He sounded... disappointed.

Steve takes in Eddie's outfit again and the pieces slowly start to come together in his mind. How could he be so stupid? "Shit, sorry, Eds. Are you on a date with someone? Nevermind. I don't want to know. I'll just, uh, go. Sorry to interrupt." He turns away as quick as possible and hurries down the few steps.

He should have known. Eddie doesn't want to spend Valentine's Day with him. They're just friends. God, he's so stupid.

A hand gently grabs his arm and stops his hurried retreat. "Steve, wait." Eddie stands in front of him, his heeled dress shoes making him slightly taller than Steve. "I don't have a date with anyone."

Steve finds that hard to believe. He's in a suit for fuck sake. He's even brushed his hair and styled it so nicely. He's lying to make Steve feel better. "Whatever, Eds. I really don't care– "

Eddie surprises him in that moment. He reaches out and holds Steve's face so, so gently in his hands. Steve doesn't know what to do, he's frozen in shock and unable to look away from Eddie, who's standing so close now. He brushes a thumb gently across Steve's flushed cheek. "Steve, I don't have a date because I was on my way to your place. To ask you."

"Ask me? On a date?" Steve is struggling to wrap his head around the situation. Having Eddie so close is causing all coherent thoughts in his head to disintegrate. All he can focus on is the smell of Eddie's cologne and the cool sting of his rings on his skin and the slight shine on his lips because, fuck, he's wearing lip gloss.

Eddie laughs and steps even closer, their noses almost brushing as he invades Steve's space. "I've been wanting to ask you out for weeks, Stevie. I thought today would be the best day. I even bought you a birthday present."

Steve wants to cry. He wants to cry and laugh and kiss Eddie Munson until he can't breathe. "How do you know it's my birthday?" Dustin doesn't even know it's his birthday. Hell, he's pretty sure his own parents don't know it's his birthday.

Eddie sighs and rests his forehead against Steve's, the intimate action steals Steve's breath away. He's too nervous to move, to even breathe. They've never been this close before. Eddie closes his eyes and just breathes for a moment before answering Steve's question. "Dude, I've been madly in love with you for an entire year. It'd be pretty shitty if I didn't know when your birthday was." He says it so casually, so easily, like he's talking about the weather.

Steve can't even be angry that he called him 'Dude' in the middle of his confession because Eddie is pulling away, his eyes full of worry as he takes in Steve's shocked expression. "Fuck, that was too much. I'm sorry –"

Steve drops the roses and the chocolates, grabs the collar of Eddie's suit, and shuts his rambling up with a kiss.

[andy-15-07]

A sick Paul Atredias with fem reader as caretaker 🥺

Comfort in Sickness

pairing: Paul Atreides x reader

masterlist / Dune Masterlist

The dim light of the bedside lamp cast a soft glow across the room, illuminating the figure of Paul Atreides lying in bed, his face pale and drawn with illness. Y/n stood by his side, her heart heavy with worry as she watched over him.

Paul had been struck down with a severe bout of sickness, leaving him weak and bedridden. Y/n had volunteered to take care of him, wanting to repay him for all the times he had been there for her in the past.

She gently brushed a strand of hair away from Paul's forehead, feeling the heat of his fever against her fingertips. His breathing was shallow and labored, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of concern deep in her chest.

"Paul, how are you feeling?" she asked softly, her voice filled with concern.

Paul managed a weak smile, his eyes flickering open to meet hers. "I've been better," he admitted, his voice hoarse with sickness.

Y/n's heart clenched at the sight of him in such a weakened state. Paul was usually so strong and confident, it was hard to see him like this.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" she asked, her voice gentle and reassuring.

Paul shook his head slightly, a small frown creasing his brow. "Just having you here is enough, Y/n. Your presence alone is comforting to me."

Y/n felt her cheeks flush at his words, a warm feeling spreading through her chest. She had always cared deeply for Paul, but she had never realized just how much he meant to her until now.

"I'm not going anywhere, Paul," she promised, squeezing his hand gently. "I'll stay with you until you're feeling better, no matter what."

Paul's eyes softened at her words, a grateful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you, Y/n. You don't know how much that means to me."

As the night wore on, Y/n stayed by Paul's side, doing everything she could to make him comfortable. She brought him cool cloths for his forehead, made him hot tea to soothe his throat, and read to him from his favorite books to help take his mind off his illness.

Despite his weakened state, Paul seemed to grow stronger with each passing hour, his fever slowly receding until he was finally able to drift off into a peaceful sleep.

Y/n watched over him as he slept, a sense of peace washing over her as she realized just how much she cared for him. In that moment, she knew that she would do anything to keep him safe and happy, no matter what.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, Y/n settled down beside Paul, her heart full of love and gratitude for the man lying beside her.

Together, they would face whatever challenges life threw their way, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could overcome anything.

[homerforsure]

Saw the episode. Ascended to a higher plane. Wrote a small Coda that is as messy as my brain is right now. Bone Apple Tea.

"Heyyyyyy Buck!" Eddie answers the phone with a drawn out salutation that proves Tommy was not lying about him being sent away from the hospital with the good drugs. Or, not lying about the prescription, but about Eddie actually taking them. It wasn't so long ago that Eddie would take enough medicine to avoid being in agony, but never quite enough to actually feel relief. He wouldn't do that for Tommy, however close they are. It's something that Eddie's doing for himself. Buck's stomach was a swarm of butterflies three seconds ago, but that and the floaty happy way Eddie still says his name, has him smiling again in his kitchen.

"Hey Eddie. I, um, I'm sorry to call so late. I just wanted to see how- how you were doing."

"Eh, I'll miss a shift or two. But Doc says I'll be ready to go for playoffs," Eddie answers.

Guilt twists through him, harsh and acidic and Buck says, "Well I'm glad to hear that. They say the team doesn't have a chance without you and your, um, sky dunk." Eddie laughs, giggles really, in reply and Buck says, "I'm sorry, Eddie. I don't know why I did that. I mean- I- I know why. I was jealous of you and- and Tommy-" Buck's heart flips as he says his name and he's afraid the kiss is going to come flying out of his mouth and down the phone line- "But I never wanted you to get hurt like that."

"You wanted me to get hurt different?" Eddie asks, still laughing, but Buck feels stricken.

"No! I- maybe. I don't know what I wanted. I lost my mind for a little bit."

"You were jealous," Eddie repeats.

"Yeah, I was."

A long sigh and Eddie says, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have anything to be sorry for. I was the asshole. I could have- I knocked you out of your shoe."

"Do you have my shoe?" Eddie asks, more focused than he has been the rest of the conversation. Buck can hear him sitting up on the couch.

"Uh, no. No, I gave it to Chim. He's gonna give it to you when he sees you. And probably make about 50 Cinderella jokes."

"Right. He texted me. I remember."

"I'm sure he'll bring it by sooner if you need it. Or he could give it to Tommy." The flush is there again, hot down the back of his neck. Buck doesn't know how he's supposed to do this. Where is he supposed to keep all of this heat and possibility while he waits for Saturday.

"You don't like him."

"Who? Chim? He's growing on me."

"Tommy," Eddie answers in a tone that says duh. "You can't even say his name normal."

Of course Eddie can hear that. Of course he assumes that's the problem after the way Buck has acted since the moment they met the man. He thanks god that he decided to call instead of driving across town and checking on Eddie in person. His cheeks and his ears are burning like fire.

"He can tell, you know. We both can. He said he's going to come talk to you. Gave him your address. Wants to apologize." Eddie must have settled back down on the couch. He sounds sleepier, his sentences getting shorter and more breathy.

"He did. He um. He came by. We talked it out. I told him you guys didn't have anything to apologize for. I was the one who made it weird."

"So weird," Eddie agrees and Buck laughs. "You guys should be friends. He's awesome and you're awesome and we can all hang out together and it would be..."

"Awesome," Buck finishes. He thinks it might be.

"I forgot you don't know that."

"Know what?" Buck asks, when Eddie's mumble doesn't come with any additional clarification. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Never mind. Hey, you should get up and go to your bed. Sleeping on that couch is not going to help your ankle heal any faster."

"Tommy said that."

"Tommy's right. Come on."

Eddie groans as he sits up, cursing at Buck in what he thinks is under his breath, and asks, "You talked to Tommy?"

"Yeah, he just left."

"And we're okay? You like him now?"

Buck's blood roars through his ears and he wants to throw up and start laughing all at the same time. "Yeah, I think I do."

"Good."

He breathes through the sudden headrush as Eddie grumbles and hops his way off the couch and down the hall. Buck knows where he's finding his handholds by the echo off the walls and he winces when Eddie takes a misstep and swears again. He thinks for a second that he should be there, that he should help Eddie to bed, but Eddie would never let him. Buck wonders if Tommy would let him. He's wondering about so much now and he never did before.

"Hey, Eds?" The question is out before Buck realizes he's asking it, small and vulnerable, and he wants to claw it back and swallow it down before Eddie notices, but he doesn't have a chance.

"Yeah?"

Tommy kissed me. I want him to do it again.

"No, nothing. Just. I'm sorry. I was out of line."

"You were," Eddie answers. "And I forgive you."

Something settles in Buck then. A piece that had still been sitting off kilter and jamming painfully under his ribs. He takes a deep breath, and joy washes fully over him, calming and centering. He doesn't ask the question again though. He thinks he wants to keep this tiny, glowing treasure to himself. At least for a little while.

"Bring me my shoe back and we'll call it even."

Buck laughs, letting the sound ring out through his apartment and he can hear Eddie smiling on the other end of the phone.