#like I’m still going to my parents but idk if my sister & her family will be there

[werebutch]

My mom getting a new place is kinda making me anxious I think she thinks I’m gonna move in w her instead of my dad 😭 and I’m not sure why I don’t want to. Cuz she’s way better. But I don’t. And I feel responsible I think and plus my sisters will never favor my mom over my dad… so we’d live apart. but I’m 20 years old I can live whatever I want. But. But but but

[tiredsadpeach]

May not feel great rn but tomorrow I get to see my best friend and we’re exchanging gifts and then afterward I’m going with my sister to pick up a cat

[steviescrystals]

there is no feeling worse in the world than missing your grandma :/

[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

[chilling-seavey]

Dreamland (ln4) - Part Three

↳ A/N Idk where my mind went when I wrote this but I'm almost embarrassed to post it because it's so filthy- Please comment something nice so I don't regret everything and delete these 7.7k words of pure sin LOL

↳ Inspired By: 'Late Night Talking' by Harry Styles

↳ Summary: Ever since your night together in your hotel room, Lando can’t seem to get you off his mind

↳ Pairings: Fanboy Lando Norris x Famous!Author!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n), University Student Lando x Internet Friend George x Internet Friend Alex

↳ Word Count: 7.7k

↳ Warnings: 18+, NSFW, sexting, dirty talk gets really super nasty, sending nudes, Lando's so incredibly down bad

PART TWO || PART FOUR

It had been twenty-two days since Lando lost his virginity to you in that Bristol hotel room and ever since, he only thought about you more than he had before. Everything was you as if he couldn’t get enough, having given his trust into the hands of the woman of his dreams, and he was so far past attached that even he himself did not realize the extent of his borderline dependency. He played it cool with you through Instagram dms here and there since your night together and every time he received a notification with your Instagram account handle and a simple little message, he would be grinning ear to ear. 

It had been sixteen days since Lando turned twenty-one. Usually he would message you first since you were still on your book tour and quite busy, but on his birthday you had sent him something early that morning. His only wish was to have more of you…to have all of you, for life. He even made that wish over his birthday cake as he blew out the candles. His sisters took some pictures of him so he could post them for his birthday and you were one of the first people to like them. You made his insides feel so warm and you did so unknowingly. 

It had been three days since Lando moved out of the dorms and back into his parents house. Three days and he was already going crazy. The freedom of the dorms was refreshing but being stuck back at home under his parents’ rules felt suffocating to the now twenty-one year old. Between the curfew, chores, and annoyance from his siblings, Lando was nearly ready to re-pack his suitcase and book a ticket on the next flight out…if only he had more than $14 to his name. His family just didn’t get it. Not like you did. 

“We pay a lot of money for you to go to school and we don’t like seeing you wasting your time and throwing it away.” his mother explained as gently as she could over dinner that evening. 

Lando, elbow on the table and chin in his hand, swatted the last bit of his supper around his plate with his gaze downcast, “I’m not throwing it away.” 

“Well you’re certainly not trying.” his father replied. “Your grades are proof of that.” 

Lando dropped his fork to the plate with a clatter and his three siblings glanced over at him from around the table without a word, listening to him be ridiculed by their parents and waiting for his hostile defences, “It’s not my fault that I’m not as good as the rest of the students! I pull as many late nights as they do but their work is just better.”

“Have you sought out extra help from your professors or the tutoring centre?” his mother offered. 

“God!” Lando tisked in frustration and slouched back in his chair, “I don’t care!” 

“Exactly. You don’t care,” his father agreed seriously, “Your GPA is astronomically low and you’re threatened with academic probation because of it. If you flunk out you will be paying your mother and I back every cent that has gone towards tuition and housing.” 

“This isn’t even what I want to do!” Lando retorted strongly, “I want to, like, go into arts and design…or something.” 

“That’s not a stable career, Lando, come on. We’ve discussed this.”

His mother added, her voice attempting to be gentle, “We went out on a limb with your attempt at the racing and karting stuff and look where that got you? We want to support you, love, but we can’t keep taking financial risks. We still have to get your sisters through university too.”

“What if I had an opportunity to design book covers for a really well known author?”

His family all looked over at him. There was a beat of silence. 

“Do you?” his father inquired, honestly curious. 

Lando dropped his gaze to his plate and crossed his arms over his chest, “Well…not yet.” 

His younger sisters snickered into their forks. 

He glared over at them but recovered quickly at the defence, “But when I met that author that I like at her book signing last month I pitched the offer and she seemed really interested.” 

“Oh my God, here we go.” his youngest sister rolled her eyes. 

“Lando-” his mother started. 

“No, listen-” Lando huffed, “When she gets back to Monaco she’s going to help me get a job…she said so. Something where I can do what I really truly like.”

His parents exchanged flat expressions that had his face falling. 

“She will.” he pressed. 

His father held a hand up to stop him, “You gotta stop living your daydream, son. Come on.” 

“It’s not a daydream!” Lando protested. “Why can’t you guys support me?”

“We don’t want to see you struggling, Lando.” his mother said, “We want you to have a fulfilling life.”

“Yeah, they don’t want you unemployed and living in their basement until you’re middle aged.” his older brother added with a smirk. 

Lando glared over at him, “Says you.” 

Their two sisters “ooo”ed. 

“Regardless of what you think your future is going to look like, you need to better yourself in the present.” his mother continued. 

“Which means focusing more on your degree when the next term comes around…and getting a full time job in the meantime.” his father finished. 

“I don’t want to go back to school.” Lando grumbled. 

“Oh really? What’s your alternative plan?” 

“She’s gonna get me a job-”

“Oh my God.” his middle sister laughed, “You’re dropping her name like you’re besties.” 

Lando clenched his jaw, biting his tongue to smother the dirty truth to answer with the more innocent response, “We talk every day.” 

“She’s being nice.” his mother said gently, “She’s being nice to one of her fans.” 

Lando knew his family didn’t understand but the simple words from his mother sent his heart aching. In all honesty, it had been a few days since you had conversed and Lando had been starting to overthink every reason as to why you had left him on ‘seen’. He could have bet money on the fact that you would never use him and drop him…that your night together was more than just a one night stand…but maybe he was getting too ahead of himself. 

His father only dug the blade farther into his chest, “She is a stranger whom you think you know. She doesn’t owe you anything. She is not going to be your free pass into having a life you don’t need to work for and she is not going to come sweep you off your feet to rescue you from your failing grades. You are twenty-one years old now, Lando, and it’s about time you start acting like a grown man and get your shit together before life runs you over.” 

Lando threw his napkin onto the table and stood up so quickly from his chair that the cutlery rattled on the table when he bumped against it, his throat burning from how he tried to swallow back his anger, muttering under his breath before he stormed off, “I can’t wait to get out of this fucking house.” 

His mother called after him warningly, “Don’t think that just because you’re twenty-one now doesn’t mean we can’t still ground you!” 

Lando took the stairs two at a time and when he turned the corner at the top of the stairs into his bedroom, he slammed the door behind him and locked it. It was a dangerous balance between anger and heartbreak and Lando paced his room while taking a few deep breaths to try and calm down. 

After the freedom that living in the dorms provided, it was hard to return to his house where his parents still ruled. Once he had that taste of independence - a taste of life with you - it was horribly difficult to fit himself back into the little bedroom in which he grew up and grew out of his small suburban town. He didn’t have a bad relationship with his family at all but the reintegration of him back into their house made tensions feel insufferable sometimes. His parents were always on him and he already wanted to escape.

Sitting down on the side of his double bed, Lando pulled out his phone and opened Instagram to send his frustrations to his group chat with his two closest friends. 

landonorris: I need to get the fuck out of this stupid house and get to Monaco like NOW landonorris: I’m gonna lose my fucking mind alex_albon: Oh no what happened  landonorris: My parents are on my arse about school and work and they don’t get it georgerussell63: Don’t get what? landonorris: That I already am on track to get the one thing I want and it’s not being a stupid accountant georgerussell63: You have us for that alex_albon: Yeah we’re always going to support your dreams mate landonorris: I just want HER landonorris: That’s all landonorris: And she promised me a job designing for her books landonorris: It’s going to be real landonorris: It has to be alex_albon: It will be alex_albon: It won’t happen overnight but it will be landonorris: I just want to get out of this house landonorris: It’s so fucking embarrassing living with my parents georgerussell63: Hey we all live with our parents georgerussell63: Are you saying Alex and I aren’t cool georgerussell63: Rude alex_albon: Yeah what the hell mate alex_albon: 🤨 landonorris: Noo it’s different landonorris: You guys aren’t trying to get a self-sufficient borderline famous Monaco woman landonorris: No one like her is going to want some muppet like me who lives at home with his parents  georgerussell63: She clearly does alex_albon: Besides, this is just a temporary stop until you find your own place alex_albon: You’re being resourceful…saving your money georgerussell63: Has she said anything recently? You haven’t told us much these last few days alex_albon: Do we even want to know what she’s been saying? 👀 landonorris: Nothing landonorris: That’s it landonorris: Nothing georgerussell63: Wdym?? landonorris: I messaged her the day I moved back home just to make casual conversation that I moved out of the dorms and she said something like ‘that's nice’ and then when I replied again she just left me on seen alex_albon: Oh georgerussell63: Why?? landonorris: Idfk but I’m stressing so bad over it landonorris: Like what if my parents are right and she just sees me as a fan and nothing more georgerussell63: She took your virginity mate I don’t think she’d be the kind of person to just drop you after that alex_albon: Maybe she’s busy with work. Isn’t she still on tour? landonorris: Her book tour ended yesterday. She should be home now alex_albon: So maybe give her a day or two? Maybe she needs some time to relax after traveling the entire continent of Europe landonorris: Idk landonorris: I miss her georgerussell63: Message her again landonorris: Idk I don’t want to be annoying  alex_albon: Ask for your virginity back landonorris: OMFG georgerussell63: Excuse me mommy can I have my virginity back 🥺🥺🥺🤲🏼🤲🏼🤲🏼 alex_albon: EW GEORGE landonorris: GOEREG STOP georgerussell63: HAHJJKKPFJFJG  georgerussell63: That’s one way to get her to answer you  alex_albon: No that’s how you get blocked landonorris: Lol funny you think I’m the sub tho landonorris: Anyways alex_albon: Pff georgerussell63: Oh yeah with all that experience you have alex_albon: OOF ROASTED landonorris: WOW landonorris: That one night was ENOUGH tbh landonorris: Jeeeezus georgerussell63: Ya those marks you had were fuckin brutal mate alex_albon: In the best way ofc landonorris: YEAH landonorris: I KNOW

Lando flopped backwards on his bed with a smile he struggled to bite back, his worries distracted by his internet friends and the mere memory that was your night together so many days before. 

landonorris: God I miss her so fucking much landonorris: How has it almost been a month georgerussell63: Back to celibacy for you georgerussell63: Rip landonorris: I actually hate it here alex_albon: Just message her  alex_albon: Just a ‘hey’ or something landonorris: Ew that’s cringe alex_albon: ??? How landonorris: Idk georgerussell63: Be like ‘hey how was the rest of your tour’ landonorris: Make me sound any more like a grandma 🙄 alex_albon: Mate georgerussell63: Or tell her you miss her georgerussell63: Girls like that kinda thing alex_albon: Like you would know what girls like 🤨 georgerussell63: 🖕🏼🖕🏼 alex_albon: ‘Hey I’ve been thinking about our night 😏’ landonorris: Brooo landonorris: I wanna sext with her so bad georgerussell63: 😂😂 alex_albon: Oh but just ‘hey’ is cringe okay landonorris: Maybe I’ll send that landonorris: Idk landonorris: Should I? landonorris: Is it too much? landonorris: After being left on seen for two days idk georgerussell63: Go for it georgerussell63: She literally let you come inside her georgerussell63: I think this is nothing compared to that alex_albon: An odd comparison but a valid one there, GR georgerussell63: Hey thanks mate landonorris: Should I?? georgerussell63: Yeah it’s just reminding her that she’s on your mind which is a good thing alex_albon: And it’s not too hot and heavy right off the bat alex_albon: If she responds with something flirty back then who knows landonorris: Or she’ll leave me on seen again and I’ll have to die of embarrassment  georgerussell63: Omg alex_albon: Nah she won’t. Send it georgerussell63: Right now

Lando exhaled deeply and sat up again on the side of his bed as he exited the group chat to find his dm thread with you. It wasn’t too far down on his list since he didn’t talk to many people other than Alex and George and when he opened it up, the little grey ‘seen’ nearly slapped him across the face. He pursed his lips in thought and let his thumbs wave over the keyboard, debating what to say. 

He finally drafted something quickly,

Hey…been thinking about our night recently 

He screenshotted it before he sent it and then shared the image to his group chat. 

landonorris: *sent a screenshot*  landonorris: Is this fine? georgerussell63: Add an emoji alex_albon: Yeah maybe a heart or something

Lando swiped back to his thread with you and added a heart to the end,

Hey…been thinking about our night recently 🧡

He sent that screenshot to the group chat.

landonorris: *sent a screenshot*  landonorris: Maybe? alex_albon: Yes I think that’s good georgerussell63: Yesss now send it landonorris: Ahh idk is that too annoying?  georgerussell63: Blimey mate why are you suddenly all flustered like a teenage girl lol georgerussell63: You’ve literally already slept with her georgerussell63: The hard part is over alex_albon: ^^^ alex_albon: Send it alex_albon: Sendddd it georgerussell63: Send it!!!!

Lando sighed and sat up on his bed again as he exited out of the group chat and opened his thread with you once more. The notifications from his internet friends kept popping up at the top of the screen in silent encouraging cyber chants to get him to send the message. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous exactly. Maybe he had spent too much time dreaming about you that he didn’t want to let one measly message fuck up his one fleeting chance at having you. 

His thumb hesitated over the send button for a moment, debating and overthinking. He got up and paced his room a little, staring at the unsent message and going through every possible situation in his head like it was the last decision he would ever make. With a slightly dramatic huff, he closed his eyes and tapped the send button hurriedly. 

He exited the chat and opened his group chat in a panic.

landonorris: OKAY I SENT IT landonorris: AHHH landonorris: Gonna throw my phone out the window now georgerussell63: GOOD JOB alex_albon: YES georgerussell63: Now we wait 😌 landonorris: For a miracle  georgerussell63: You already had your miracle georgerussell63: That was your night together alex_albon: She’s going to answer Lan dw

Lando didn’t leave his room all night because the concept of facing his family after his slightly immature and dramatic blow up over their inability to see his side of things felt like the worst idea ever. Instead, he dabbled with a few new doodles in his notebook that were infused with thoughts of you and when that got boring, he turned to one of your books for his usual go-to entertainment. His friends were busy with their families and it wouldn’t be until they were ready to sleep that they would reconnect. 

Because of their lack of conversation that evening, Lando was trying to do everything in his power to keep his mind away from his sent message to you. The one that you still hadn’t replied to. The more time that passed the more anxious he got until he had no choice but to dive into your fictional universes as some sort of escape, his phone hiding under his pillow and out of sight. 

His eyes were glued to the page and every carefully printed word as what always happened when he opened one of your novels. The steamy scene in front of him had his hands clutching the hardcover book tightly, spread out comfortably on his bed, and your honest words only brought him back to his own very real recollection of your magical night that you shared almost a month prior. The chapter ended before the scene got too far and Lando huffed and shut the book and tossed it onto his night stand, letting his head rest back against his headboard so he was staring up at the ceiling. 

By that point in the night, it was dark outside and his room was illuminated by only the light of his bedside lamp. He had heard his siblings heading to their own rooms over the prior few hours and eventually heard his parents head to bed too. No one bothered him; probably not wanting to push his buttons with any wrong move. Things would smooth over by morning. 

But Lando didn’t feel at ease at all and it was solely due to the fact that he was scared to death that you were ignoring him. He could only pray that his one message didn’t ruin all that he had dreamt of. 

When the city of Bristol passed into 9pm, Lando checked his phone one last time. Only a few messages from his group chat were waiting for his response. Nothing from you. 

alex_albon: Ok finally done the movie alex_albon: My family wanted to analyze the whole damn thing alex_albon: My sister doesn’t know a thing I stg georgerussell63: Omg we just finished too georgerussell63: I totally demolished my nephew on F1 2021 ngl alex_albon: Ayy the kid didn’t stand a chance alex_albon: Who’d you play as? georgerussell63: Max Verstappen alex_albon: Hell ya les gooo georgerussell63: Did you hear people say he be might be world champion this year?? alex_albon: And beat out Lewis?? Idk… georgerussell63: If my parents had actually let me kart and I made it to F1 I bet I’d be able to beat out Lewis lol imagine alex_albon: Kinky georgerussell63: Ew???? landonorris: George you’d get like 15 points MAXIMUM georgerussell63: That’s so rude alex_albon: Omg Lan hi alex_albon: Did she answer?? landonorris: Nopeee landonorris: I’m gonna kms 😀 georgerussell63: Nooo! georgerussell63: Give her time alex_albon: It’s only been like alex_albon: Three hours… landonorris: Ugh alex_albon: But I gotta sleep  landonorris: Ughhhh georgerussell63: Same georgerussell63: I’m helping my dad run some errands tomorrow so we have to be up early for whatever reason alex_albon: Damn I just have to sleep because I’m tired alex_albon: I’m literally doing nothing tomorrow georgerussell63: Your usual landonorris: Lol alex_albon: Lando you’re so dry its weirding me out landonorris: Sorry landonorris: 🧡 landonorris: Love u mate landonorris: Sleep well alex_albon: Thanks mate alex_albon: Praying that you get a reply by morning georgerussell63: Me too! alex_albon: Love yall georgerussell63: Love u ♥️

Lando locked his phone and tossed it onto his bedsheets, deciding to get himself a snack since he didn’t finish his dinner. It would be at least something to take his mind off his worries. With his family already in their rooms, he could navigate his house without interruption and he tiptoed down the stairs and into the kitchen silently. 

Glass of water and a handful of chocolate chip cookies in hand, Lando returned to his room and shut the door behind him. One cookie resting between his lips and his hands full with the rest of the stack and his drink, he headed over to his bed once more. His phone screen lit up just as he approached and the notification that was greeting him had the half bitten cookie falling out of his mouth and onto his bedsheets. 

He hurriedly set the glass of water and discarded cookies on his night stand, brushing the crumbs out of his bed as he sat down and re-read the Instagram notification from you. 

-Hey you 💕 I’ve been thinking about it too

Lando unlocked his phone and let his thumbs word a response for him without letting himself overthink it,

landonorris: Was wondering if you forgot about it! Haven’t heard from you in a bit

His message was delivered and opened right away, meaning you were waiting for his response in the chat. That fact had him biting back his bashful smile, but his nervousness still lingered over what your answer was going to be. This could have been the moment you would shut him down for good. 

-Omg never! -Tour ended yesterday and the flight from Miami was crazy…delayed…they lost my luggage…and then after a hefty sleep last night I’ve spent today picking up my retrieved bags and then unpacking and I was just at lunch with my friends

Lando let out an audible sigh in relief,

 landonorris: That’s okay  landonorris: Good to be home? -Very -Tour was fucking incredible but this break is going to be nice  landonorris: Yeah for sure -Did you really think I forgot about you just like that?  landonorris: No I just wanted to make sure you were okay  landonorris: It’s been a few days -You’re a sweetheart -I’m just fine  landonorris: I’m glad 🧡 -But tell me… -What had you wanting to remind me about our night?  landonorris: Nothing in particular  landonorris: Was just missing you a little -A little?  landonorris: …Yes -Mhmm -Well you may keep your pride here all you want but I won’t be afraid to admit that I missed you quite a lot  landonorris: Oh really?  landonorris: You?  landonorris: Miss Monte Carlo? -Oh please -I’m the least Monaco that Monaco can get -And we had something special that night -I don’t throw that around lightly  landonorris: Yeah…  landonorris: Okay…  landonorris: You got me  landonorris: I miss you a lot  -The truth comes out 😌  landonorris: I’ve been re-reading your novels because I miss you :) -Omg really 🥺🥺 -Which?  landonorris: Second novel…chapter eight… -I see 👀 -So that’s what had you thinking about our night 

Lando slouched back against his headboard with a blushing grin that he hid in the material of the collar of his forest green hoodie. He contemplated his response but saw that you were already typing so he waited. 

-Which part were you thinking of most?

His teeth sunk into his bottom lip carefully with what you were smoothly instigating and his mind rushed back to each piece of your night together that had thrived in his memory ever since. He didn’t know how strong to start off so he played it cool,

 landonorris: All of it  landonorris: Kissing in the elevator  landonorris: And in the hotel room -Just kissing?  landonorris: Well you’re an incredible kisser  landonorris: And I fucking loved kissing you -I loved kissing you too -Your lips are so soft  -And your hands on my body felt so good -I miss that a lot -The way you grabbed me  landonorris: I should have done more of that -That’s okay -Next time 🥰

Lando had to toss his phone onto his bed for a second so he could roll over and scream into his pillow out of sheer lustful glee. He was so smitten for you and all his worries were completely erased by the simple reassurance from you that you had been thinking about doing it all again. 

 landonorris: For sure  landonorris: When and where -Sometime this summer maybe -But we can plan later -I want to hear more about what you miss about me first  landonorris: Okay 🧡  landonorris: I miss your body  landonorris: And the way it felt under my hands  landonorris: Your hips…your ass…your tits…  landonorris: So fucking perfect -I swear you’d be so good at body worship  landonorris: Fuck baby I’d gladly worship you anyday -Yeah? 🥰 -How?  landonorris: I want to take your clothes off and kiss over every inch of your body   landonorris: Just breathe you in  landonorris: Trail every curve with my lips or my finger just so every part of you has been touched by me -That sounds so good -And then?  landonorris: You sure you wanna know? -Tell me everything -Don’t hold back  landonorris: I want to spread your legs and taste you -Oh my God  landonorris: Is that okay? -Yeah lol I’m sorry that just made my pussy throb  landonorris: Jesus  landonorris: Did it?? -Yess -I’m an author, words speak wonders to me  landonorris: No pressure lol -Never any pressure with me baby -Tell me more -Just spill your thoughts here  landonorris: I just wanna know what you taste like because I didn’t get to last time  landonorris: You might have to guide me -That’s okay baby -I can lace my fingers in your pretty brown hair and show you where I need you  landonorris: Fuck yes please  -So I can feel your warm tongue all over my pussy -Inside me -On my clit -Feeling you so fucking close  landonorris: I’d kill for your legs over my shoulders right now  landonorris: I really really really want you to show me how to eat you out  landonorris: Making you come on my mouth would be so fucking hot -Yes sir

Lando’s mouth literally fell open in shock, his heart racing in his chest at how quickly this conversation turned exactly to how he had imagined it in his most salacious dreams.

 landonorris: And I fucking loved hearing the way you called me sir  landonorris: That fucking did it for me baby -It was your idea and it was a genius one -It got me off too -Honestly I catch myself moaning out that title when I make myself cum now  landonorris: You think of me? -Yeah I think of you when I touch myself  -Every time  landonorris: Often? -Couple times a week -And right now

Lando blinked at his phone screen in disbelief, trying to picture you in your pricey Monaco apartment and warm in your bed in limited clothing and touching yourself while you spoke with him. His dick twitched in his sweats and he dropped a hand down to palm himself lazily over his growing erection. You sent another message,

-Do you think of me?  landonorris: Always have  landonorris: Only ever you -You’re so fucking cute -God I miss you  landonorris: I’m getting hardddd lol -Good hehe -Are you touching yourself too?  landonorris: Do you want me to? -That’s for you to decide sir -Do you want me to help make you cum?   landonorris: Fuck yes -Okay then strip down and keep talking to me  landonorris: Ok gimme a sec

Lando tossed his phone to the side so he could hurry to push down his pants and boxers in one go, letting them drop to the floor carelessly. His sweater joined the pile, leaving him slouched back against his pillows and the headboard in the warm light of his bedside lamp, his legs spread just slightly. He returned to your conversation, 

 landonorris: Okay  landonorris: What else do you want to know? -Talk to me more about eating me out -Have you thought about it a lot?  landonorris: Yeah baby  landonorris: I dream about it too sometimes  landonorris: I can still hear your gorgeous little whimpers and the way you moan my name and I just want to feel you grinding up against my face and helping me to make you feel so good  landonorris: But I really wanna know how you taste -Want me to describe it?  landonorris: Yes -It’s sweet -But not like candy -It’s more of a warm kind of flavour that tastes salacious -And it drips everywhere and soaks everything -It would get all over your mouth and your chin  landonorris: Fuck  landonorris: I want that  landonorris: And I want to wrap my arms around your thighs so you can’t get away from me and I can feel all of you all over me, just covering me in your wetness  -It’s all for you sir -I’d link my ankles around your shoulders to keep you there too  landonorris: Hands pulling at my hair -Yes please  landonorris: Show me how you want me to touch you  landonorris: Pull me to where you need me -Suck on my clit  landonorris: Whatever you need baby  landonorris: Can I finger you too?  -At the same time pleaseeee  landonorris: I can do that landonorris: My mouth on your clit and two fingers inside you  -Fuck that’d make me moan so loud -Just the idea of your fingers flicking inside me is making my legs shake -I need it  landonorris: How fast? -Slow. I want to make it last  landonorris: Of course  landonorris: And if you’re a good girl for me I’ll let you cum twice -Fuck how can I be your good girl sir  landonorris: Let me have my way with you  landonorris: And show me how good I make you feel with your sweet moans and the way you cry my name  landonorris: You’re so fucking sexy I won’t want to stop -Yes I wanna cum for you -Can I sir  landonorris: I’ll always let you cum baby  landonorris: Just licking and sucking at your pussy with my fingers so fucking deep inside you  landonorris: I bet you taste so fucking good  landonorris: Soaking my face and my hand and the sheets  landonorris: God I’m so fucking hard

Lando glanced down his naked body draped back against his bed to where his dick was resting against his abdomen, already swollen hard and aching for touch. You were taking a bit of time to reply so he reached down to gently rub the tip of his finger up and down along the underside of his cock, watching how his gentle touch made it tense and flinch. He turned back to his phone,

 landonorris: Hello? -Sorry I just had to finish myself off lol  landonorris: Oh-  landonorris: Like right now? -Yeah, you said I could  landonorris: You listened to me? -Yeah?

Lando swelled with pride at that concept,

 landonorris: Good girl  landonorris: Did it feel good? -Would have been better if you were physically here -But yes -It felt really good -Moaned your name when I came too  landonorris: That’s so fucking hot -Now I wanna do more -How do you want to cum?  landonorris: Inside you -Again?  -Dirty boy -I like it -Would you want me to ride you?  landonorris: No I want to fuck you myself  -Go on…  landonorris: Keep you on your back and push your legs open as wide as you can get them and just hold your hips while I push my cock inside your soaking wet pussy -Oh my god I miss that baby -I miss your dick so bad

He was letting lust take over in his messages, typing with one hand as quickly as he could while his other lazily stroked his dick in careful motions. 

 landonorris: Nothing compares to how you feel around me  landonorris: You’re just so fucking warm…so wet -I’m soaked for you -You’d slip in so easy right now  landonorris: Jesus  landonorris: I wish I could see your face when I’m inside you  landonorris: Your pretty eyes just fucking rolling -God you’re so big too what’d you expect  -I’d be fucking drooling for it -I wanna beg for it…have you tease me so fucking slowly until I’m nearly sobbing for you to fuck me harder  landonorris: Will you scratch up my back again for it baby? -I’d do anything you want for your dick

Lando mouthed a swear word to his phone screen, tearing his eyes away for a moment just to look down at his fist wrapped around his cock, the one that you were so persistently fantasizing about in the next state over. His hand was useless compared to how your pussy felt and after he had that glimpse of heaven, it was difficult to go without. Your words certainly helped, even only through messages, and he stroked himself a bit faster.

 landonorris: I’m so hard for you baby  landonorris: I seriously need to fuck you  landonorris: I want to give you all you want and more -Can you take me from the back  landonorris: Yes  landonorris: Whatever you want -What a pleasure dom -You’re such a gentleman  landonorris: Lol just want you to feel good  -I can roll over for you and grind my ass back against your cock until you push it back inside me -You’d get so fucking deep that way -I’m already moaning just dreaming about it  landonorris: Then I can hold onto your hips and fuck you like that -Yes pleaseee  landonorris: Fuck -Can I send a pic?   landonorris: Yes -Ok but no screenshots  landonorris: Promise -*you sent an image*

Lando opened the picture with furrowed brows in intense interest as to what he was about to see. On his screen was the most glorious picture of you he had ever seen, the way you looked on your knees on your bed, fully naked, bent over at the waist so your phone captured your curves in the full-length mirror beside your bed. Lando’s eyes were wide as he soaked you in, licking his lips, and tried to memorize each pixel to keep in his mind forever. He let his lust speak for him in reply,

 landonorris: Fucking hell baby  landonorris: You’re so fucking hot  landonorris: I want to slap that ass so bad  landonorris: Grab those hips  landonorris: Fucking pound you until your gripping the sheets -This pussy is yours sir -My whole body is only yours  landonorris: Do you want a pic of me? -Only if you’re comfortable sending

Lando had never tried before since talking to girls - yet alone engaging in sending nudes - was quite few and far between for him. But he wanted to impress you and the way you tended to gawk over his body made him feel really good and made him hungry for more. He lifted his phone camera up and angled it towards his bare body, staring at himself in the screen as he reached his other hand down to keep a secure hand around his dick, drawing attention right to it. Only slightly self conscious, Lando hesitated for a beat before sending it to you before he could overthink yet another thing. 

He waited while you opened his image and he nibbled at his bottom lip anxiously when you typing bubble popped up in the bottom left of his screen,

-Fuck I think I forgot how big your dick is -You’re stunning -Every inch of you -Holy shit -I want you inside me so fucking bad right now  landonorris: Me too  landonorris: My hand is not the same -I have my vibrator on my clit and my pussy is fucking pulsing for you. It’s just so empty…  landonorris: Jesus fuck  landonorris: I’d fill you up baby -God I know you would -So well too  landonorris: Fuck you until your bed is shaking -Yes sir I want it rough  landonorris: Then you should beg for it -I will -I’ll gladly beg for your cock  -Cry for you to beat this pussy up, spank me, manhandle me -Whatever you want I can take -Fuck me like your own little whore

Lando could hardly formulate a response as the speed at which his hand was pumping his cock had him drawing dangerously close to that sweet pleasurably precipice that anything else seemed like too much of a distraction. He held his phone tightly in his left hand, the messaging thread still open, as his legs laid spread on his bed and his right hand stroked himself off in quick messy motions. 

“Oh my God.” he groaned quietly through his teeth, letting his mind whirl with his memories from your night together and his fantasies of wishing you were with him at that moment. Those thoughts weren’t odd for when he got himself off but this time it was different because even from a timezone away, you were still helping him along. 

-I’m so fucking wet its dripping down my thighs -It’s making the nastiest sounds that would only be so much better if your cock was pounding me from behind

Lando’s hand gripped his phone tighter, eyes focused unwaveringly from your little profile picture and the words you sent just for him to read, a little saucy narrative of your own lust made just for him. He shakily spelt out his encouragement to remind you that he was still there and still so painfully close. 

 landonorris: Keep going -You’re gonna cum aren’t you baby -Thinking about my pussy is gonna make you cum so fucking hard isn’t it? -Letting you fuck me…pound your big dick into me as deep as it can go until I crying for it -Making my fucking legs shake while I scream your name into the bed sheets

Lando read each of your messages so carefully, taking in your every word and transferring it right to the pictures in his mind as a light sweat dusted across his brow. He bit his lip to try and keep himself quiet, smothering his whimpers and groans from his oblivious sleeping family members through the walls. His dick was leaking, trailing precum down the length of it and down to his balls, only slicking up his hand in it to help him pull easier strokes faster and tighter, trying to replicate the feeling of your body the best he was able to. 

-Give it to me sir -Please -I miss you so bad

Lando felt as if he were tingling and he naturally thrusted up into his hand a little, whimpering quietly, dizzy on the fast rising pleasure and the warmth it spread over his body. 

-Send a voice memo of you coming if you’re comfortable baby -Please -I really wanna hear you cum  -I really wanna hear the way you sound when you imagine coming so deep inside me

Lando was already so close that he didn’t even think about it before pressing and holding his thumb down on the audio record button, allowing his phone to capture his every breath and every sound as he finally came for you. He wanted to come inside you so badly that he nearly cried for it, being stuck with only his own touch to work him through his orgasm. His hand stuttered around his dick as the first shot of cum spurted out and fell onto his pelvis, matching the whimpering little gasps that he let out for you in steady waves. 

And he of course moaned your name breathily as he always did, letting his eyes close and his head tilt back to welcome the pleasure that overcame him. He could almost feel you right there and he was desperate to reach out and hold you down on him, aching to give you his everything right then and there. When his thumb lifted from the screen, his recording sent right to you and he watched it immediately turn to “seen” as he kept a tight cum-streaked hand around the base of his throbbing sensitive cock. 

Lando’s chest heaved as he struggled to steady his breathing, his wide blue eyes peering down at the creamy white mess that streaked his hand, his dick, and dotted across his stomach and pelvis. He looked back to your chat as you sent your reply,

-Fuck Lando that was so hot -Oh my God -The way my name sounds when you moan it makes me fucking drip  -You sound so pretty  landonorris: Your words do things to me too  landonorris: Felt so fucking good  landonorris: Wish you were here too though -Me too  landonorris: Did you come again yet? -Yeah lol I got myself off to your audio -It was hard not to  landonorris: And you didn’t record it for me in return?? -Next time 😉  landonorris: Next time you better be with me for real  landonorris: None of this texting shit -Yes sir -I agree -Really miss the feeling of you coming inside me  landonorris: Fuck, me too  landonorris: You’ll have to take plan b again  landonorris: Right? -Of course -But that’s worth it  landonorris: You’re incredible and I honestly can’t believe my luck that I can talk to you like this…have you like this -You’re a sweetheart -I feel the exact same way 💕  landonorris: Wish I could cuddle you right now -Me too 🥺 -And kiss you

Lando reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a tissue to clean himself up, giving him a second to absolutely grin to himself. Oh how he missed you in his arms…the post-orgasm drop off was turning lust into longing quickly. He wiped up the streaks of cum from his body and his hand and disposed of the tissue in the garbage bin beside his bed before returning to your few additional messages as he turned over in bed to cuddle up tiredly. 

-I slept so well with you that night I really miss that -Didn’t know I’d be missing you so much but that week after just had my mind clouded with you and every day since has been filled with wondering when we can see each other next -You’ve really somehow wiggled yourself into my heart and soul Lando Norris and idk how you managed that

It took Lando all of his self control to not tell you he loves you right then and there. He had known you for much longer than you knew him…he had to take it slowly. He had always been hesitant in facing where he stood with you but at that moment, reading your little confession, it just felt like everything was falling into place. 

 landonorris: You’re always the only thing I think about  landonorris: And I am so grateful for you for many reasons I wouldn’t even know where to start if you asked me to -Taking your virginity? 😜  landonorris: LOL yes that especially   landonorris: No one else I would have wanted it to be -I gotta say, you’re certainly not shy over text -Your confidence is sexy -Makes me want to submit to you so bad  landonorris: Donttttt say that or I’ll get hard again -LOL SORRY  landonorris: Tell me more next time 🫣  landonorris: Although I’m probably going to be so shy when we see each other in person again  landonorris: You tend to make me nervous lol -I make you nervous??  landonorris: Yesss you’re my dream girl  landonorris: Ofc you make me all nervous and shy  landonorris: And you make my heart go !!!! -You’re adorable I wanna kiss the fuck outta you so bad rn  landonorris: 🥰🧡 -Gotta get you to Monaco -Gotta get you in my bed  landonorris: Please  landonorris: I literally need that right now -I know you have another term after break but then what’s your summer looking like -Work?

Part of him didn’t want to tell the truth as to what his pathetic summer was looking like but he trust you and you were never one to judge,

 landonorris: Nope  landonorris: No job and living back at my parents place  landonorris: It’s been three days of only winter break and I’m going fucking insane I need to get out of here -Oh my -Would you want an internship or something with my team? Idk if its possible but I can see if I can pull some strings…get you a little summer position at least  landonorris: Oh my god baby I’d love that -Haha okay lover 💕 let me see what I can come up with for you -We’re gonna get you out of this low  landonorris: God I miss you so much  landonorris: You’re fucking incredible  -Anything for you 😘  landonorris: 😘😘 -I’m still pretty jet lagged so I might head to sleep now  landonorris: Ok gorgeous   landonorris: This was fun :)  -Hehe it really was -If we can’t wait until we see each other in person then maybe we should try a phone call next time  landonorris: Fuck I’d say yes except these walls are super thin and I don’t want my parents and siblings to hear every detail about how I want to bend you over your desk and fuck the shit outta you -Fuck offfjffjjfjfjf oh my gosh  landonorris: What?? -You’re making me blush go away 😂  landonorris: 😜 -I seriouslyyyy gotta sleep  landonorris: Yes you do  landonorris: Sleep well baby -You too 💕 I’m gonna imagine you’re cuddling me the whole time  landonorris: Wish I could 🧡🧡 -💕💕

Lando laid there for a little bit, just staring at your little pink hearts with a lovesick grin on his face, still giving his heart a chance to calm down after the events of the previous hour. He scrolled back up your conversation and screenshotted the last little bit of your saucy conversation, starting from his audio recording attachment down to your shared conclusions and then he scrolled back down to your promise of a job. The two most important things to share with his best friends for when they woke up. 

 landonorris: *sent a screenshot*  landonorris: Just made her cum twice over text so anyway how's your nights going 😌  landonorris: *sent a screenshot*   landonorris: And she’s going to help me get the fuck outta this place   landonorris: Get you a girl that can do both  landonorris: I love her so much  landonorris: I can’t wait for the day I can tell her that  landonorris: Good night guys  landonorris: Talk tomorrow 🧡

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[ringneckedpheasant]

this is somehow worse than yesterday

unsurprisingly I don’t want to go to work today either

[flemingsfreckles]

Accident

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you get hurt while cooking dinner with Jessie because you weren’t paying attention. When she asks what’s on your mind, you accidentally tell her too much. (Fluffy)

Warnings: minor injury, mentions of blood, cursing

WC: 1.9k

A/N: this started as a fic about Jessie being overly concerned and caring if you were to get injured and then it spiraled into whatever this is. For some reason I really like this fic, idk.

“Fuck.” You drop the knife, feeling the sharp pinch in your finger

“What happened?” Jessie spun around, rushing toward your side as you yelled.

“I cut my stupid finger. I’m fine.” You reassure her, your girlfriend always being the first to play nurse when you’re injured.

“Let me see it.” She stands behind you holding out her hands, making a grabbing motion.

“I’m fine.” You weren’t, the knife didn’t do any major damage but it hurt. And on top of the cut, you weren’t fine either, you were stressed, unable to focus, you brain clouded.

That’s what caused you to cut yourself in the first place, you had zoned out, nerves overcoming your brain as you thought through every step of tomorrow.

Wake up, try and get out of bed without waking your girlfriend, make Jessie her favorite breakfast, bring her said breakfast in bed, don’t spill it, you both just washed the sheets, offer up a afternoon date of a picnic, hope she says yes, bring a picnic, a blanket, all of the essentials for your date. Drive to the park, the park you had your first date, your first kiss, that park. Make sure your phone isn’t connected to the car, you don’t need her seeing any texts in the past few days.

Nope, before you leave, go into your sock drawer, into the back of it, grab the box. The box that held the ring you bought.

The engagement ring. Get the engagement ring, put it in your jacket, hopefully it was cool enough to wear a jacket without raising suspicions.

While you’re getting the ring, text Jessie’s sister, make sure she’s ready to be there, make sure she remembers her camera, obviously she’d remember the camera, but still make sure. Make sure the engagement party is set up. Check with Janine, check with Sinc, make sure it’s good, maybe check with her parents? They know you’re proposing, you had asked for their blessing, not permission because you’re girlfriend wasn’t their property but you still wanted to know they supported you joining their family. The party, they said for sure they were going to be safe, make sure they’re good to be at the party.

Hopefully it wasn’t going to rain, you should check the weather again, you’ve checked it six times today but maybe things have changed. If it rained, you’d have to completely change your plan. You should have a better back up plan. Moving to under one of the pavilions could work but Jessie wouldn’t leave the house if it was raining already.

Get the ring, drive to the park, get out of the car, don’t be suspicious. Set up the picnic, eat, or at least try to, who knows with nerves. Don’t act weird, act normal, act like you usually do. Don’t panic, don't accidentally tell her.

Ask her if she wants to recreate the photo the two of you took on your first date, if she says no, then your plan is fucked. If she says no, come up with something else, whatever you have to do. Hope she doesn’t say no. If she doesn’t say no, set up your phone, tell her to go stand so you can set up your phone. Make sure she’s in the frame, make sure she’s going to be in the video.

Set up your phone, make sure it’s recording, go back over to Jessie. Take the “photo” then point something out in the distance, when she’s turned, kneel down. Which knee were you supposed to kneel on? Did it matter? You should Google that. Hold out the ring. Did it matter which hand you held the ring in? Did you hold it with both? You should’ve been practicing this.

Make sure you have the ring, make sure it’s in your pocket. Grab it before you walk over to her. But don’t grab it where it’s obvious.

Open the box, toward her, not yourself, wait for her to turn around. Ask her to marry you, ask her to make you her wife, tell her that she’s the best thing in your life and you can’t imagine being anywhere without her. Tell her how you’re ready to spend every year, every week, every day with her. Tell her you don’t want to be her girlfriend anymore, you want to be her wife.

You had just started running through your speech in your head when you were interrupted by the stabbing in your finger.

“Let me look at it baby, sit.” She pats the countertop and you hop up sticking your hand out to her. “Here let’s run it under the water.” She encourages you. Now feeling overwhelmed from the idea of proposing, on top of injuring yourself, you start panicking inside.

“Jess I’m fine I just wasn’t paying attention.” You try and brush her off, only admitting you weren’t focused brings up concerns for Jessie.

“You’ve been spacing out a lot these past few days, is something bothering you?” Her hand comes to rest on your knees, you can feel her gaze in the side of your head but your eyes are fixated to the side looking down at your finger running under the faucet. You knew she would say yes to your proposal, you two had discussed marriage before, multiple times, you both were ready. But that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking.

“I don’t want you to be your girlfriend.” The words come out of your mouth. Naturally since that was the part of the speech you were practicing and rehearsing, that part of the speech falls out of your mouth.

“What?” She removed her hands from where they had been gently caressing your knees. She takes a few steps back, her face a mix of hurt and confusion, her eyebrows pinched together, a frown across her lips.

You had just told Jessie after five years of dating you didn’t want to be her girlfriend, with seemingly no reason.

“Oh my god.” Now you have no choice. You clasp your hand over your mouth and throw yourself off of the counter, running to your shared bedroom. You don’t even care that you’re bleeding. You rip open your sock drawer throwing socks across the room.

While you’re scrambling Jessie comes into the room, she was confused before but now she's angry. “What the fuck?”

“Hang on!” You shout at her, panic filling your body, digging out more and more socks not caring where they landed in the room, just searching.

“What the fuck are you doing, you say you’re breaking up with me and now you’re making a mess!” The pitch of her voice is up, you can tell she’s unsure of what’s going on, she’s nervous. At least that made two of you.

“No!” You shout as you throw out another pair of socks, finally feeling your fingers close around the wooden box. You grab it and pull it out. You hold it in your hands, looking at it for a second before remembering what you’re supposed to be doing. You kneel down, looking up at Jessie who has a mixed appearance of distress and surprise written across her face.

“Jessie, oh my god I’ve messed this up, I am so sorry” You start, immediately forgetting the speech that you worked on for weeks, the speech you practiced in the car, in the shower, at work, at home when Jessie wasn’t there, forgotten in an instant. So you just made one up.

“I don’t want you to be my girlfriend anymore because I want to make you my fiancée, and then my wife. I am so in love with you, you are the best thing that has happened to me. You are the kindest soul, my best friend, I have wanted to put a ring on your finger for years, and I want to spend every day with you.” It’s at this point you realize you are just holding a closed box up to your girlfriend. Of course she’s smart and knows what’s happening, you pop the box open mid speech anyway, causing Jessie to let out a giggle.

“I want to have a family with you, I want to travel with you, I want to cook dinner together, and clean the house with you, I want to do everything by your side. So, Jessie Alexandra Fleming, will you give me the honor of being your fiancée, and will you marry me?” You feel your hands shaking as you hold the box out to her.

You realize, despite staring up at Jessie, your vision had practically blacked out while you were speaking, suddenly having no recollection of the past minute. What you do see is your teary eyed girlfriend standing in front of you, nodding, her hand over her mouth. You can tell by her eyes she’s smiling.

“Yes. Yes, of course I’ll marry you, I love you.” She reaches down her hands coming to your face to pull you to stand, she pulls you into a deep, passionate kiss.

“I love you.” You say when you pull away, tears now in your own eyes.

“I love you.” Jessie whispers against your lips. You kiss her again before pulling back to take the ring out of the box. You hold out your other hand to take Jessie’s palm, gently pushing the ring onto her finger, your own hands still shaking.

She grabs your face, kissing you again. “I’m no longer your girlfriend.” She says when she pulls away, teasing you. You then start to realize that you just proposed. You had just proposed in your bedroom, with socks laying all across the room, you’re in ratty pajama pants and one of Jessie’s shirts, she’s in a pair of shorts and a crewneck. She was beautiful, stunning like always, no matter what she wore, but now you were worried she’d be mad she wasn’t at least a little more dressed up for this moment. You had done this all wrong, there was no picnic, no breakfast, no speech, no photos of the moment.

“I know, I’m so sorry, Jessie. I planned a whole thing, breakfast, the park, tomorrow, a picnic, your sister, our first date, I had a speech, there were going to be photos, I messed it up.”

“You didn’t mess it up, this was perfect.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.” You say hanging your head, you should be celebrating but after your months of work perfecting your proposal idea you managed to blow it the day before.

“I’m not, I don’t lie to you. This,” she gestures between the two of you and around the room, “this is a perfect example of us, this mix of crazy and impulsive, that’s who you are, that’s the version of you that I fell in love with. You’re not a perfectionist, you’re not calculated, and that’s why I love you, I love how you are. The planning, the overthinking, it’s not you baby, this, the socks everywhere, the pajamas, the intimacy and privacy of this, this is you, this is us. I mean that, this is so much better. I can’t wait to get to experience this and you everyday for the rest of my life.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, now let’s get you cleaned up, you’re still bleeding on the floor.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Wibta if I told my mom she loves a cat more than her own children.

I do feel like an asshole for this. I’m 17f and I have a younger sister 15F. My parents are married and for the most part good. When have a 12 year old cat that my mom just adores.

This part is all speculation, but when I very young like I was 5 or something my mom had an event that changed a lot. She stayed with her parents and would visits us. My grandparents would help out and no one really ever explained what happened to her but she lived there for like a year, she did move back in with us. My dad got her a cat to cope while she was away. The speculation is she had really bad post partum depression and had a break down. The reason I believe this/and this is my own theory, was when I was struggling mentally, my mom encouraged me to go to a therapist and they asked family history and she said she had struggled with depression/episodes and had tried medication but never stayed on. She just said when she was younger she had a hard time regulating emotions, and she wants me to worry about me and my own emotions. The post patrum comes from the fact that I asked my dad why did you two have kids and he admitted he wanted kids and my mom was more on the fence. I also find it weird she gets really nervous around Mother’s Day and will often try to not celebrate. (She always says she could be a better mom)

My mom is a good mom don’t get me wrong. She’s always encouraged my sister and I to try and do our hobbies. She’ll drive us where we gotta go. I know she works overtime when she wants to make sure we can do stuff for the family. It’s just sometimes, she seems more like a distant mom. She’ll listen to us, do anything asked, but idk how to put it into words.

But she really loves this cat. And I do love our cat too, but this cat and my mom are bonded. The second my mom comes home and the cat greets her and my mom picks her up and kisses her. She calls the cat her pretty princess and a hundred other nicknames. She calls me my dad and sister honey, bunny, and sunny. I know the cat actually makes my mom happy. Her eyes light up when she sees the cat. I know she looks forward to coming home to the cat. When we go on vacations she’ll miss the cat, or if she goes on a work trip she’ll always ask for pictures of the cat or ask to see the cat on FaceTime. She throws a small birthday party for the cat every year and makes a cake. For our birthdays she’ll ask what we want and sometimes she resorts to store bought desserts.

So this is where it gets bad. Our cat is now sick and probably has a year left to live. The vet told my mom she’s a good cat owner and has always done right for her, but with her age, treatment isn’t really the route because it’s not gonna prevent death, so just focus on making the cat happy and comfortable (this vet appointment was her 6 month check up.) My mom hasn’t been doing well mentally. She’s always struggled with mental health. She just seems to have a shakey mind at times if that makes sense. She very much before would hide her struggles, but we knew she’d have them. Before she would like stand still just gripping the counter with one hand. Now my mom is definetly depressed. She will come home be greeted by the cat, and go to her room and cry with the cat. She’s been just not happy.

My sister and I kinda decided to see if telling her we got good grades would cheer her up, and she’ll say good job and will sometimes offer to cook something or get something for us, but her eyes are just like very tired. (There is also an app she can use to check out grades but she never once used it and will just take our word face value) We’ve talked to my dad about this and he basically said that our mom has always loved animals (she use to work with her grandpa at a pet store he owned, but apparently her grandpa wasn’t a good person to most people in the family except her, so that was hard on her). I asked my dad what he thinks and says it’s normal for someone to be sad about this and that he’s gonna work hard or make sure we get all our needs handled. Which is nice, but I kinda wish it was my mom. I don’t feel dire need of anything, I’m just annoyed/jealous a cat can destroy my mom mentally.

My mom has gone over load for the cat. She cooks for her, makes her dinner buys the best food and mixes then. She often cries while cooking, and asks the cat if she likes the food.The cat doesn’t even know what’s happening.

I was looking at prom dresses online and asked my mom to look with me and she was just out of it. She would just say she’d like one or she’s not a fan but don’t let that discourage me. She’s just kinda lifeless. I try talking to her about it and she’ll aplogize and says she’ll get better. (It’s been like a week)

It boiled over when my mom’s sisters came over. (She’s the youngest. One sister has kids and one doesn’t) My mom tried to be happy and perky but ended up crying about the cat. Her sisters kinda said that she’s gotta be strong for her family and my mom just cried saying everything’s gonna be so much harder without the cat. I wasn’t in the room, they were in the basement, and there’s a vent where you can hear everything down there. My sister and I do easedrop to see what they say (her sisters are loud but we can never hear what my mom is saying without the vent. Normally we do it because my mom is a more different interesting person and again we don’t know our mom well. Away from us she kinda puts down the facade and actually talks). I was just angry. Her life isn’t hard. We’re middle class, if she wants to go to therepy she can afford it. We all deal with grief and loss. Yes I’m gonna be sad when our cat passes, but she is an older cat. I don’t imagine my life becoming “harder” other than my mom being depressed, but she is an adult who will heal from this.

After her sisters left and she was doing her night routine, I asked her if she loves the cat more than my sister and I. She said that’s not true and if she could do something more for my sister and I please name it. I told her that that’s the problem is that she does stuff for the cat without thinking, but for us it’s all asking us and she’s the adult she should know. She’s said she’s not a mind reader and she’s gonna rely on the information I give her to help me out where she can. I went to my room because ovbiosuly that conversation wasn’t going anywhere. I feel like my mom understands a cat more than her own daughter.

My dad came in a little while after and we talked. He assured me my mom loves me and this cat has been like an emotional support animal through the years. He mentioned my one friend who has an emotional support dog and compared them and told me that the cat has helped my mom emotionally with emotional regulation and just helps her steady herself. I asked if we were enough, or if my mom regrets having a family and she would just be happier if she just left us for the cat and lived by herself. My dad told me she loves all of us, but depression can be hard to navigate. I asked him about how he wanted us more than our mom and he just said that he was more excited, but my mom wouldn’t have had us unless she wanted us (which I don’t think is totally true.)

I went into my parents room and my mom was there with the cat. Again going to the cat for comfort. I told her I was sorry for saying she loved the cat more than us and she apologized for how her treatment towards the cat can seem that way and if I ever need anything please ask. It made me mad because she again is relying on me to know what’s wrong/ or ask, instead of her just idk taking initiative. I didn’t say that.

I get people can be mentally ill, but she’s also my mom. I do feel bad about telling my mom she loves a cat more than me, but I also don’t feel too reassured.

[sserajeans]

mine

kim minji x fem! reader

synopsis: you both knew love came with downhills, but neither of you thought it'd get that bad. you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter, and she's the best thing you could ever call 'mine'.

genre + others: non-idol reader x idol minji, goes over the ups and downs of their relationship, semi angst but fluff end TRUST ME

notes: (TW: implied suicide of minor character) , y/n has been through so much pls give her a break, idk if either of them were toxic, but they work around it bc love >>>, not requested, i was just listening to the album and got an idea that made my soul go WHOOSH hehe, THIS IS A VERY LONG ONE

WORD COUNT: 6.9k

you were in college, working part-time, waiting tables. left a small town, never looked back. i was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin', wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts.

you and minji were your friend group's favorite couple. almost anyone would agree, actually.

you met in high school when you transferred from a smaller, almost unknown town under a merit scholarship sponsored by the school. you were your family's pride and joy, the eldest daughter and older sister to two siblings. your parents weren't born with the same comfort they provided you and your siblings, or any comfort at all. it took a lot of work for them to get to where they were, and even then they still work day and night to give a life better than theirs for their children.

being born first, you witnessed everything. the blood, sweat, and tears your parents poured into everything; their failed start-up business, their multiple part-time jobs, and the low-paying wages they'd get in return. but above all this, you also saw how your parents did it all for love. love for you, love for their kids, love for the family they made. and so you swore, as an adorable 8-year-old, that you'd work your hardest and earn enough money to get your parents to rest comfortably once they were of age. you were raised in a struggling house, but a loving home. you knew love. you weren't a stranger to it. you loved love and the power it held.

minji, on the other hand, didn't. when you met her in your first year of high school, her parents had just signed divorce papers after her dad caught her mother cheating. she was only 16 at the time, and her parents were her role models of love. to her, they represented what love would, could, and should be. she believed in love, until she grew to hate it. she hated the way it hurt her father, she hated the way it hurt her, but most of all she hated the way it pulled her mother away from her. minji knew love. she wasn't a stranger to it. but she hated love and the power it held.

because of the stark difference you two had with your outlooks on love, it was a shock to everyone when the kim minji agreed to not just being your prom date, but to you courting her during your junior year of high school as well. 

“kim minji is this really you?” her best friend at the time, seol yoona, waved her hand in front of the raven-haired girl’s face. she was trying to finish an essay in english, one of their final requirements for the semester. “what’s different about park y/n?”

minji sighed and closed her notebook, finally facing the rest of her friends who sat crowded around her.

“look. she was nice to me at prom and she’s…” her friends’ eyes widened in anticipation. “cute, i guess.”

“oh come on minji that can’t be just it…”

“yeah you rejected like a quarter of the student population! i’m sure there were a few nice and cute ones!”

“they all…” minji started as she stood up from her desk and began packing her things in her backpack. “i’m just more comfortable with her, okay? we’ve been friends a while, and she’s patient about everything right now because she knows about…”

the rest of the table nodded their heads in understanding. there was no need for her to expound on that. 

meanwhile, in the complete opposite side of the school campus, was where you and your two closest friends ate lunch. under the shade of the courtyard’s largest tree.

"you're fucking playing with me..."

"i'm not! she said yes! she really did!" you exclaimed, mouth full of the school's spam and kimchi kimbap. 

"you better not mess this up y/n... you're like the first person i know of that she's ever said yes to." your other friend commented, playfully shoving your upper arm.

"do you guys not have like... the teeny-tiniest bit of faith in me?" 

they looked at you for a solid minute before nodding and shrugging. jokes aside, you were a selfless and caring person, and every one that has ever gotten to know you was sure of that.

and fair enough, by your first year of college which was also minji's first year as newjeans' leader, after almost 2 years of courting her, you asked her to have things official, and she said yes.

do you remember, we were sitting there by the water? you put your arm around me for the first time. you made a rebel of a careless man’s careful daughter. you are the best thing, that’s ever been mine.

it had been just over a year since you two started officially dating, and nothing much changed since you put a label on it. you were now in your second year of university, simultaneously maintaining a part-time job at a local restaurant. 

it didn’t take an idiot to know that dating an idol was hard. and it also didn’t help that your schedule wasn’t the most flexible either. there were even some days where minji had more time in the week to spend than you did. the both of you hated that, and it frustrated you two to the point where there were times you’d take it out on each other.so when you and minji had your first big argument, it was a shock to none of the peers who knew of your relationship.

you sighed deeply as you unlocked the door to your apartment. it was the middle of midterms week, and you had just finished an evening shift. you didn’t even want to think about studying for your calculus exam tomorrow, but you knew you had to if you wanted to keep your gpa up to the scholarship’s requirements.

“park y/n.” minji’s voice interrupted your brain’s train of thought. you were so busy trying to figure out the most efficient way to spend the rest of the time between the present and your exam. 

usually, minji’s voice calling your name would be warm and sweet. you talked about it to your friends one time, describing it as melted chocolate, and she gagged at how cheesy you were being. but god forbid you speak the truth.

but now, her voice was neither warm nor sweet. it was cold. it was cold and sharp. if you had the time to process it you’d probably describe it as ice shards, rather than melted chocolate.

you hesitated to face her, because you knew exactly why she was here in your apartment at 11pm in the evening instead of her dorms, fast asleep. you couldn't count how many times you cancelled a date last minute within the last month, and minji was tired of you not explaining properly.

you heard her stand up from the living room couch and walk towards you in the dining table. 

“what is it, minji?” you spoke, leaning your forehead against your palm as you brought out school textbooks and worksheets.

“what do you mean ‘what is it, minji’? you know why i’m here, y/n.” 

she wasn’t lying. again, you knew why she was here with you, which is why you dreaded the conversation that was about to come.

“this is the 4th date you’ve cancelled this month without telling me why. if you wanted to break up i’d much rather you tell me directly…” the last sentence felt like a stab to your chest. the cold and sharp dagger that was her words, taking one large hit.

“what the fuck? no, okay! no i don’t!”

“then for the love of god would you at least tell me why you’re being so fucking distant?!” 

you kept silent. eyes avoiding hers as you internally debated on whether you wanted to burden her with your struggles or not.

“see? you can’t even say it.”

“fucking hell. my sister is sick, minji.” 

you let out a shaky exhale as you spoke, finally gathering the courage to face her.

“she has pneumonia. she’s sick. she’s in the hospital. and i-“ you cut yourself off as tears made its way down your face. the cold exterior on minji’s face dropped almost immediately at the sound of your voice breaking. your breathing remained shaky as you tried your best to verbalize everything that has been piling up over the past few weeks.

“medical insurance isn’t enough to cover it. my parents are working endlessly, but they’re getting older and i don’t want them to overwork themselves or they could get sick too, so i asked if i could pick up more shifts at the restaurant because that’s really all i can do right now. it just breaks my heart whenever i visit her because she’s always telling me that she’s sorry for causing trouble when none of it was her fault. and fuck, as if it doesn’t get any worse it’s midterms week, and if i fail just one exam it’s enough to bring my gpa down for the school to drop me.”

you gasped for air.

the girl sat beside you and rubbed your back, reaching over for your water bottle and offering it to you. you muttered a thanks as you gulped down half of the water inside and gave yourself a few seconds to speak again.

“and i know what you’re thinking. ‘why didn’t you tell me? i could’ve helped.’ but minji please. you’re an idol. you’re a celebrity. fuck, you’re the leader of one of the biggest group’s right now. you have enough on your plate. i don’t want to add to that.”

minji nodded to show you she was listening despite not saying anything since you started letting it out.

"let's take a walk." 

you were shocked by the suggestion, and minji could tell. she would be too.

“but won’t people recogn-“

"more air to breathe, more space to think. come on." she got your coat for your and brought your most comfortable pair of shoes over.

you weren't agreeing, but you also weren't objecting the idea. from what could've been a fight to this, you were just glad you had the warm minji with you right now.

she dragged you along by the hand, just a few steps ahead of you. it didn't take too long until you two found yourselves sitting on the park bench facing a small river. it wasn't too far away, just a couple meters from your apartment building.

“can i ask you something, y/n?” there it was. the warmth, the sweetness in her voice. 

she turned to face you. “do i bother you when i tell you about my problems? when i talk to you about how i worry for haerin not opening up, or when i tell you about how hanni might’ve bothered me on a certain day. does that burden you?”

you looked up at her shaking your head, your eyes still red and puffy. 

“w-what? no. never. i like that you let me know. i like knowing you have some type of output for it."

"well if it doesn't burden you then what makes you think you'd burden me?"

you slowly looked away, eyes busy gazing the clear water and the rocks that laid under.

she moved to wrap her right arm over your shoulders, and slowly reached for your left hand to hold if you'd let her. after all, she didn't expect to be comforting you when she planned on seeing you.

"i may be an idol. i may be a celebrity. i may be newjeans' minji a lot of the time. but i'm also your girlfriend, park y/n. the one you met in high school whose life you changed forever the day you asked me to prom." you leaned against her when she pulled you closer as she spoke.

"i stopped believing in love when my parents split. remember when i told you that? but you were there every step of the way. you understood, and you were fine with waiting." minji took a pause to make sure you were still with her, listening. 

your eyes were heavy, but your brain couldn’t be more alive. 

“y/n, i don't want to be the person that makes their partner feel like they can't talk to them. let me be there for you too, okay? i may not be able to do a lot to fix it, but i'll be there because you shouldn't be facing things alone. not when you have me."

you nodded, letting out the last of your tears on her shoulder while she ran her fingers through your hair. 

“so next time, please, please tell me what bothers you.”

you never gave a clear response, just your sobs slowing down as she held you. minji would later on regret not noticing this.

a few minutes later, after you calmed down, you pulled away to finally fix your eyes on hers.

"thank you. and i still owe you an apology. for how i was the past couple of weeks.”

“you really don’t have to y/n.”

“well, you say that now after i told you. but what i did was still such… an ass move, and i should’ve told you what was going on because you deserved to know with the way it affected you too.”

minji gave you a smile. a small smile that held the largest emotions a human could ever feel. she leaned against your side, head on your left shoulder with her arm around your waist.

“it’s okay…”

“i love you.”

three words. eight letters. the first time it was ever said between the two of you. 

on the inside, you were a little shocked. if your relationship was a sports game, no one would bet on minji saying it first. but she did. and that just made those special words mean a little more than they already did.

you wrapped your left arm around her shoulders and rested your head on hers, giving the top of her head a kiss before saying it back.

“i love you too.”

flash forward and we’re taking on the world together. and there’s a drawer of my things at your place.

a couple months later, you felt on top of the world, and so did minji. you found a higher paying stay-at-home job, your sister got better miraculously quick, and your grades were stellar. for minji, newjeans had just released another hit mini album, and it was played everywhere you went. in the store, at the mall, on tiktok, on the radio. everywhere.

eventually, you two found a free spot on both of your schedules, and used it to have sleepovers at your apartment or her dorm. she’d always prefer staying at yours though. one of the few times you stayed at hers, the second you left, hanni and hyein were teasing her endlessly about… well, usual couple stuff.

this night was one of those sleepover nights. the two of you just finished dinner and were cuddling on the sofa, trying to decide on a movie to watch.

“mean girls?”

“didn’t we watch that last week?” minji reasoned out, looking at you with a questioning face.

“uhm… horror?”

“i don’t mind.”

you hummed and browsed through the horror collection your streaming site had. it took you a while to find a movie, you and minji each always had a minor problem with whatever came up.

“oh hey this one looks fun. zom-“

“did i ever tell you the full story of my parents?”

“ha?”

you looked at her with a rather surprised expression on your face. sure, she’s told you all about being a child of divorced parents and how it affected her. but you never bothered to ask more about it in fear of her discomfort.

“well… no. i wanted you to bring things up at your own pace.”

it felt like a silent agreement that maybe you two were going to drop the movie for a little “deep talk” moment.

“my dad went m.i.a., well, sort of did, on my mom.” she began, you sat cross-legged beside her, reaching for her hand to play with while she muttered a quick ‘thanks’. it was your little show of comfort. 

her parents was a subject that you two didn’t bring up very often. she’d mention them once in a while, like when you were preparing a dish that reminded her of her mom’s cooking, or when you came over to help fix hyein’s bike like her dad used to do for her. but it was never in the subject of the divorce. you two always had more to talk about when you were together anyways.

“he lost a lot of the money in their savings, and he’d never talk to my mom about it thinking he could cover it up soon enough. mom was convinced he was cheating and was sending money to another girl. even after my dad explained everything she just… went and did what she did. until he caught her and… well, you know the rest.”

minji was surprisingly calm throughout the whole storytelling. you figured it must’ve been from keeping it in for so long, finally letting the old wounds heal.

“wow…”

“yeah, ‘wow’.”

“i’m sorry, i just…” you paused and grabbed her other hand, holding them both closely within your palms. “do you think if your dad was honest from the beginning things would’ve been different?”

“i-… well…”

“nevermind, sorry that was int-“ you dropped her hands and ran yours through your hair, the other covering your mouth in disbelief.

“no no, it’s okay.” she reached for your hands and they were intertwined once again. “i think things would’ve turned out the same. it probably would’ve just… took a longer time.”

“i guess… since your mom practically ignored your dad after he explained…”

“yup. i believe things happen for a reason.”

“really? i’m 50/50 on that.” you looked up at her with a questioning look.

“well, for one, it led me to you.” she gazed in your eyes, her hands soft and gently cradling yours side to side. you looked at her with amazement. since when was she making the moves with all the cheesy lines?

“okay… so i’m not 50/50… maybe 70/30.” “dork.” “your dork?” “…” “sayyy it…” “…” “you know you wanna…”

“my dork.”

“hehehe…” 

with a victorious grin on your face, you pinched her right cheek, something she both hated and loved. rolling her eyes, she positioned herself to lay her head on your crossed legs while your hands automatically fixed her hair to keep her face clear.

“god you’re so-“

“lovable? i know… it’s crazy.”  

“well…”

“oh, we were serious?”

“yes, seriously, y/n. there are times i think about that night by the river.”

“that night by the river…”

“when i told you i believed in love again, after my parents. because of you.” she opened her eyes and looked up at you like you were a constellation in the night sky. eyes wide and full of wonder.

“i know what you’re talking about, i didn’t forget, don’t worry.” you smiled, tucking a strand of hair that went astray behind her ear.

“when things get hard i think of that night, and how… i don’t know. you know that feeling when something means so much, and it’s so good, feels so right, almost too perfect, you’re just scared it’ll slip away?”

“mmhm. of course. that’s how i felt about this book i was reading. things were going so well at the beginning, like it wa-… continue though.”

“sometimes i’m scared we’ll slip away.”

“what?!”

“i mean like! it’s just a tiny… irrational fear in the back of my head.”

“ell… good thing that won’t happen!”

“how are you always so sure about things?”

i tell my secrets and you figure out why i’m guarded. you say,

“i get why you’re worried, okay? but we’ll never make your parents’ mistakes.”

she sat up straight to give you a proper hug, or, well, she more or less just threw herself on you. not that you were complaining, you loved her bear hugs.

“you and i… we talk things out. we work well that way, right?”

“yeah.”

“i love you. and thank you for letting me love you.”

“i love you too. so so much.”

and we got bills to pay. we got nothing figured out, when it was hard to take, this is what i thought about. 

throughout your relationship, you two came across a couple, or well, several bumps along the road. but it was always something you two had dealt with before. even if it wasn’t, you were beginning to feel comfortable sharing the weight you carried on your shoulders with minji; talking about the usual late night shifts, a terror professor, etc.

communication was one of the last things your relationship with minji lacked.

until one fateful evening, you received a phone call from your brother. one you wished you never had to hear. one no one ever deserved to hear. 

before he spoke, something about it already felt wrong. the combination of muffled sirens, crying from who you surely knew was from your sister, and conversation between who you assumed were adults, was straight eery. a shiver ran down your spine, realizing the nature of the news.

and you were right. 

you could feel your hand shake as he spoke with a stutter,

“noona… it’s about… about d-dad… h-he… he… did it to hims-himself… he-he w-went out… and to-told us not to follow. a-and, and then we- we heard… we heard a r-really… r-really loud noise… n-noona… wh-when… when are you coming b-back?”

what?

who?

how?

your father. he shot himself in your neighborhood’s park.

and you’ve yet to understand why. why he’d choose to abandon his family. why he suddenly switched from the hardworking man who’d endure hell for his family, to a man who chose to escape his troubles.

after consoling your brother and the rest of your family on the phone, you packed your bags and took a taxi the next day. heading straight back to your hometown, a much smaller and rural area compared to the skyscraping city of seoul. 

you ran straight to your parents’ room as soon as you arrived, your bags dropped and forgotten by the conjoined living room and kitchen. there was no time to reminisce the warmth, comfort, and love that came with the childhood home you haven’t seen in years. 

as soon as you stepped foot in your parents’ room, your younger sister, who was much taller than the last time you saw her, ran straight into your arms, almost knocking you over. it didn’t take long for your younger brother to follow, his added weight finally pushing you to fall butt first to the fortunately, carpeted floor.

you rubbed their backs as soothingly as you possibly could while they started dampening your shirt with tears. in a way, having them in your embrace comforted you the same way you comforted them. you shed your own fair share of tears, hugging them even tighter when they’d take deep breaths and wail.

you also needed to process whatever the hell just happened.

a few minutes later, once your siblings had calmed down, you slowly stood up from the floor and approached your mother who was sorting out papers on what used to be your parents’ shared bed. the mattress dipped as you sat beside her. you wrapped your arms around her frame, giving her a warm hug. 

her pain was silent, and you wished it wasn’t so you’d at least know she had an output, but at the same time, you both knew she held it together for your siblings’ sake. she gave your forehead a kiss and ruffled your hair, muttering a soft “you’ve been eating well.” 

she was just happy to see her baby home.

the next couple of days were dull and grey. it was the only word you could use to describe it. your mother would head out to deal with government papers, your siblings stayed at home with modular work as permitted by the school after what had happened, and you picked up a small full-time job at a bakery as a cashier.

in a private conversation with your mother, late at night when your siblings were fast asleep, she explained to you the law of debt and inheritance in simple terms. it was difficult, but most definitely much needed for you to at least grasp understanding on why your father did what he did. 

“i know what your first thoughts were going to be. and he wasn’t being a selfish person, y/n. he never was and he never will be. in this province specifically, debt isn’t passed down to your heirs. your father… he… he borrowed a lot of money, y/n. and we thought we could pay it back over the agreed 3 years. it was taking longer than expected, and they began looking for your dad with threats that… i’d rather not share with you.”

“wait what? what about the money i’ve been sending? did it help? did you use it?”

“of course we did, y/n. we don’t want your hard work going to waste. we used it for yoonseo and junseo’s tuition. there was an increase that wasn’t in our… scope.”

“fucking school…”

“hey… listen. do you understand things a little better now?”

“…yes.”

“repeat to me what you understand.”

“dad… didn’t want them coming after me… us.”

“yes.”

“i… i don’t understand how you’re so… calm about it right now, ma. did you know? did he tell you he would?”

“he didn’t. we fought about it, actually. i couldn’t believe all that… nonsense he was saying.”

“oh… i’m sorry. i’m sorry i thought he-“

“it’s okay, y/n. and i know you. i know you, yoonseo, and junseo. it’s okay to not be okay right now. i want you to feel that. let it out. cry, scream, take a walk, do anything. let the pain pass through. i’ll be here to make sure you’ll be alright.”

“but we want to be here for you too ma…”

“you will be there for me when you feel better. but right now, you’re my children, and i’m your mom. i want to make sure you’re okay first.”

and for the rest of the night, you silently wept against your mother’s shoulder as she held you tight against her chest, the same way she did the day you were born. you were always your mother's child at the end of the day.

since the day you left til that night, your focus was on yourself and your family. comforting your siblings when your mom couldn’t, helping around the house, and searching for more jobs dirt-paying jobs you could take, for you didn’t care as long as it’d help fill the gap your father left.

your focus was solely on the grief held over yourself and your family, that somehow, you had completely forgotten about your life in the city.

the life with kim minji in it.

on her side of the world, minji was struggling. newjeans was still a popular and well-received group with global success, but their growth was exceeding expectations, and that meant that the hate wave had only gotten stronger.

as their leader, minji was the supporting pillar, the foundation of sanity for the rest of the girls. when one of them had the need to cry or rant, they’d go to her, and she’d hold that responsibility willingly out of love and care for them.

but newjeans’ leader minji, is human. 

newjeans’ leader minji, is kim minji. 

a 20-year-old girl facing the world’s backlash and carrying the weight of her members’ hurt alongside her own on her back.

she wasn’t meant to deal with all of that alone.

where was kim minji’s supporting pillar? where was her foundation of sanity? 

where were you?

where were you when she needed you the most?

and i remember that fight, 2:30 am, ‘cause everything was slipping right out of our hands. i ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street. 

things have calmed down a bit. you and your family decided it was best for you to go back to the city as it was where you’d earn the most for your work. you hated saying goodbye to them, especially at a time where it was best where you were all together. but you and your family didn’t have the luxury of choice. you and your family couldn’t afford to lose the opportunity.

on the 2-hour long taxi ride home, you finally decided to charge your phone. you hadn’t realized how you completely deserted it the moment you arrived at your childhood home. leaving it on the car seat, you decided to take a nap to get rid of the headache that was building up. whether it was from the anxiety of being away from your family after what happened, or the pressure of having your family’s financial support come mostly from you, you needed an escape, even if it was just for 2 hours.

you weren’t sure how or what you felt. you knew most would be sad. grief-struck and lost. and you did feel that in a way, when your family held a small ceremony at the memorial center because it was all you could afford. it was just you, your mom, your siblings, and a few neighbors who knew your parents.

that was the hardest you ever let yourself mourn, the loudest you ever let yourself cry, and after that, you felt empty. your chest and your stomach ached, but there was nothing else to feel. your head, on the other hand, felt heavy. like it was rammed against a cement wall and forced to carry the weight of hardbound books. 

the moment you picked yourself up from your wallowing in sorrow, the weight of responsibility crashed into you all at once. like being thrown anvils to carry on your back, every step you took wherever you went. your father wasn’t just one of your family’s sources of income, he also stood as a figure of support for your siblings and your mom while you were away. you were angry at him for leaving you, but you beat yourself around into understanding that it wasn’t an escape.

it was about 2am by the time you arrived at the small apartment complex. an inconvenient decision that may have seemed senseless, but before you insisted in spending as much time as you could with your family before you were required to report to work the next day.

and so here you were, backpack in hand, unlocking the door to your apartment late at night.

seeing the living room and kitchen lights on alarmed you. you were sure you turned everything off before you left. your electricity bills were going to be horrendous that month.

you settle your bag down on the floor and bent over to untie your shoes.

“oh… you decided to come back?”

that voice.

kim minji.

hearing her voice again felt fresh. but it felt fresh for only one reason.

you ignored her the whole time you were away. you didn’t tell anyone anything, not even you friends in the city.

minji’s tone was firm. it wasn’t sharp and cold like the time she came over to confront you about missing your dates.

it was firm, but it was also vulnerable. the night she confronted you her voice lacked all the emotion in the world. tonight, it was full of it. you couldn’t tell if she was worried, angry, disappointed, sad, maybe everything and in between.

“where were you?”

there it was. the burning question of the night. 

unlike last time, minji didn’t bother approaching you. she stayed seated on the living room couch, her head turned to face you at the front door.

“minji, listen. i-“ you walked towards her, approaching the living room couch with caution from what you could pick up in her voice.

“y/n i was in pain… did you know that? the past few weeks have been horrible… and before i can even begin to talk about why, i have to worry about whether you were even alive or not!”

“i’m sorry! okay, i’m sorry!”

you were defensive, and it came out like you were throwing around apologies for a band-aid solution, when that really wasn’t the case. you just didn’t have it in your heart to tell her what happened.

“we had to cancel 2 fansigns because of threats we were getting, did you even know that, y/n?”

no, you didn’t. you weren’t aware of how far your girlfriend’s career had gone for the group to be receiving that kind of treatment. even before your dad passed.

“…no.”

“and that’s just… the tip of the fucking iceberg… so i ran here thinking i’d find you. because, y/n, i know for a fact you’re my safe place. but you weren’t even fucking there…”

“i’m sorry…” you muttered, your hands clasped together as you stood in front of her.

“you weren’t answering calls, you weren’t responding to texts. from me or any of the girls! i asked my manager to get in contact with your coworkers! fuck, i even asked some of our high school friends… but none of them knew where you were! do you know how sick my stomach felt?” she looked up at you with tears in her eyes. one of the few times you’ve ever seen her cry, and somehow, it always had something to do with you.

it made you feel sick.

“i’m so sorry…”

“and before you fucking arrived, for a moment i really thought you were going to just leave everything like my dad.”

after all the pain she’s shared with you?

“minji i-“

“but a part of me knew, or wanted to know you’d never do that. like you said, ‘we’d never make my parents’ mistakes’. but in that moment it felt like you did. like we did.”

“i’m sorry… i wasn’t thinking…”

“i think we need a fucking break y/n.”

she stood up.

what?

“w-what? minji what do you mean w-why a-“

“this isn’t the first time you just disappeared on me, don’t you get it? the first time it happened i had to confront you because otherwise you’d just let it slide and it’d probably happen again within the next few months.”

she walked to the dining room, away from the living room. it was closer to the apartment entrance.

“that’s not true.”

“when i told you about my parents, it was because i thought i had finally found something different with you.”

“and we did! we are! we’re not like them…”

she stood by the door, hand on the knob.

“you keep disappearing on me, y/n. i don’t know what to believe anymore.”

and just like that, she dropped the spare keys to your apartment on your kitchen counter, and left your apartment unit. 

you knew better than to let her go. you knew better to let the love of your life go. you knew better than to let her, a celebrity, run out in the middle of the night, with no security, and god knows who or what out in the streets of the area you stayed in.

braced myself for the goodbye, ‘cause that’s all i’ve ever known. 

for minji, she had no idea what she was doing, but she knew couldn’t take another second in your damned apartment. the apartment she stayed in the weeks she was waiting for you to come back. it reminded her of the times she felt like her mom, desperately waiting for her dad to come back to her. it reminded her of how she felt like her dad during the first month of the divorce, and how he kept his hopes high telling her and her brother that things would get better because their mom would always come back, when she didn’t. she hated that apartment because it reminded her of why she hated love. why she stopped believing in love.

she hated that apartment because it was yours, and you showed her how to believe in love again, and you made her believe you two would be different. 

if that was so, then why did you leave her feeling like things were going to end the same way her parents did?

she couldn’t take it anymore. how could she fully commit to someone who’d leave her out of the loop. someone who can’t at least try to share part of their world with her. someone who, after seeing all the sides and versions of her, could still get up and leave without a word.

you cursed under your breath for minji being so long-legged. it didn’t take long for her to get to your apartment building’s lobby, but timing was by your side. for once, it felt like maybe the world wasn’t against you.

the scene was cinematic. you grabbed her wrist from behind her, and pulled her by the arm, back towards you. back to you where you knew she belonged.

“i’m sorry, and i promise i’ll tell you everything. and i know i left with no warning, no sign. i know that it was best to tell you. but i promise i wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t something as serious as that.”

you gently reached over to hold her other hand in yours. hopefully it was enough to not have her run away again.

“i don’t know how many sorry’s i have left in me, but whatever that amount is, i know, won’t be enough. but please, minji, i’m begging you now, please don’t leave. i know it’s been hard, it’s been difficult for me too. fuck, it’s been hell the past few weeks and not a single second of it has felt real, but i need you. i need you to stay.”

you took a deep inhale. you hadn’t realized you weren’t breathing throughout your mini speech. 

“because right now it feels like i’ve lost everything, and i can’t take it if i lost you. and i know… i know, i sound like a guilt-tripping asshole right now but that’s really... you mean a lot. you mean so much… you mean so fucking much to me, minji, and i know that’s not what you felt when i disappeared, but it’s the truth, and i-“

your legs gave in. you were exhausted, but you weren’t going to stop until you knew she’d stay.

you knelt on the floor, in front of her, holding her hands above your head.

god, you looked so ridiculously desperate. but you didn’t care. not an inch of your body felt a bit of shame. you knew minji was worth everything you had.

“i love you. i love you. i love you so much. and i don’t know how else to say this without sounding like a fucking asshole, but i know you love me too, and i just need you to hear me out, before you decide to leave. and if you still want to go after, then i-. i wouldn’t blame you, and i’d let you, but please… please.” you whispered out the last of your words, your sobs echoing through the empty, dim-lit lobby.

she’d never seen you like this before. 

not once in the several years of being your friend or your girlfriend.

and you were right, she loved you so much. just as much as you did her.

and that was enough for her to listen.

“get up.” she spoke so softly, you could’ve missed it if you weren’t listening for any response.

you scrambled, shuffled onto your feet, and finally came face-to-face with the girl you loved.

it took everything in you to not hold her, kiss her, and comfort her, when you knew you were the cause of her pain and suffering.

but if god made angels roam earth, you were convinced minji was one of them.

she almost catapulted towards you, causing you to stumble backwards until your back met a wall. your arms automatically wrapped around her waist, like it was second nature, or maybe because it was.

you heard her sobs, and you ran your fingers through her hair like she’d do for you. rub her back comfortingly like when you held your siblings in your arms, her tears dampening your clothes the same way theirs did.

you let her be, and waited patiently until she decided to speak. her face rested against your shoulder so her voice was slightly muffled, 

“i thought you’d leave.”

you felt your chest tighten in guilt.

“i thought i did something wrong, or that you were tired of me. tired of dating someone with a job like mine, packed up, and left.”

then, you took me by surprise. you said,

“i’m sorry i made you feel that way.”

you kissed the top of her head and rested your cheek against it.

“never again. i promise, and i say it out loud this time.  i’ll never leave you alone.”

[bvnniz]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ bunny!reader x vox , bunny!reader & carmilla carmine

𝜗𝜚 warnings: forbidden love, bunny’s soul is owned by carmilla, more fluff then anything, idk how aging works in hell but bunny ages like a normal person does, same thing with carmilla’s daughters

A/N: i feel as though this story could have a part 2 ( which would probably include smut ngl . . . ) so please comment & tell me if that’s something you guys would want !!

flashback, twenty years ago when bunny first appeared in hell

carmilla and her daughters had been on a walk when they heard a couple of sniffles coming from an alleyway, clara immediately let go of her moms hand and went running towards the sound.

“clara!” carmilla yelled before following with odette, that’s when they finally found the source of the sniffles when they saw little five year old you crying in the alleyway.

“bunny!” clara practically yelled while pointing at you. “indeed she is, where are your parents, sweetheart?” that just made your sobbing start again “they aren’t here.”

carmilla had taken pity on you, mostly due to the fact her daughters begged for a bunny sister. so she took you in and made you apart of her family.

twenty years later, four months before next extermination

“vox, valentino. glad to see all of the vee’s finally have decided our overlord meetings aren’t good enough for them.” carmilla spoke, clearly annoyed causing you to try not to let out a laugh

vox wanted to state he was purely only there for you. truth was you and vox met a couple months ago, went on a couple dates and have been dating since. except no one knows, especially carmilla.

she was your mom for the past twenty years and if there’s one thing she hated more than anything it was the vee’s. she didn’t even want you coming to the meeting because she was told all three vee’s were planning on attending.

your mother glared at the three before turning to you signaling for you to make your exit, she knew odette & clara would be fine if something were to happen but you were always very sensitive, crying at the littlest things. she wasn’t making you leave to be mean, she meant it to be so you didn’t get upset over yelling.

you nodded before leaving the board room and heading to your room. vox making some excuse which got him out of staying before he materialized in your room.

“voxxy!” you practically screamed before pulling him into a hug. “hi princess.” he smiled back at you. “how’d you get here without my mother noticing?”

he just shook his head in response “i barely see you anymore you really think i’m gonna let her try to get me from seeing my little bunny less than i already do?” he pulled you into a kiss which lasted about a minute before you pulled away “what if my mother comes in?”

he sighed before sitting on your bed “you know valentino and velvette are gonna make that meeting way longer than it needs to be.” you nodded before sitting on his lap and pulling him into a kiss.

the kiss turned more heated after a while, vox laying down with you still on top of him, you grinding against him.

although it only lasted a little while longer before your mother walked in “sweethe- what the hell?!” you had immediately pushed yourself off vox standing in front of your bed “mom, it’s not what it looks like i swear!”

“really because it looks like this tv head has decided to leave an important meeting to try and fuck my daughter.” you just stared at the ground for a second before replying “okay so it is what it looks like . . . but he’s fine mom! i swear! we’ve been dating for months and he hasn’t even done anything bad! we haven’t even actually had sex yet!”

carmilla took a deep breath before continuing “you two have been dating and you kept this from me? you know how i feel about lies.” you tried to reply but you couldn’t find the words, you just stared at the ground more, trying to keep your tears in

“carmilla. do not take this out on her. i asked her out, i only even came to this stupid meeting so i could see her. i love this little bunny more than any stupid sinner could. i know you don’t like me and i know you don’t like me dating your daughter more but i love her and i’m pretty sure she loves me. so please don’t make her stop talking to me or something.” you looked back at vox, him meeting your gaze with a smile

“do you love him?” you turned to your mom and nodded “more than anything.” she nodded back “i’ll allow it, but you so much as hurt her and you will be unplugged.” with that she left.

you immediately turned back to vox before climbing back on his lap “you got her approval!” you cheered before peppering his screen with kisses causing him to chuckle. “we got the approval, bunny.”

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Accidentally Finding Family (Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader) *PLATONIC, PARENTAL

Characters: Bucky Barnes X Teen!Fem!Reader

Universe: Marvel, Avengers

Warnings: HYDRA, mention of kidnapping, mention of torture, mention of death of family, mention of amputation

Request: Hi can I request a teen reader where she is kind of like Bucky and is a hydra agent that is from the 40s and the team finds her in a base in cryofreeze and Steve and Bucky help her learn to adjust to the future and maybe Bucky helps her deal with nightmares? Or maybe she also has a metal arm and he helps her become less insecure about it idk. Also she ends up seeing Steve and Bucky as parental figures with cute family bonding? Sorry if that’s all over the place!

“Do you have any goals you have in mind for the next year or so? Next five years?” The question, targeted at Bucky, was being asked by his therapist. A few months ago, Bucky wasn’t sure what he would have answered with. A few months ago, Bucky was still filled with grief of a life lost, a life tainted with torture, his memories torn and ripped to shreds with only little fragments he could make out. But Bucky had done a hell of a lot of healing since rejoining his best friend. With therapy, Steve and Wanda’s help, those shreds of his past were being sewn back together, he’d come to accept that while his past is something he’d never fully recover from, he was still in possession of a young body, ready to try to live the life he actually wanted to live before HYDRA. A life with his new friends, and his one old one. He was ready to look into the future. 

He sat back, relaxing into the settee, thinking to himself, before he let his thoughts leave his mouth. “A family.” He started. He looked over at his therapist, who smiled, nodding and notioning him to elaborate. “I loved looking after my little sister before the war. I loved looking out for Steve when he was still a punk… I think it’s always been a part of me to want to look after and care for people. Biological or adopted… the idea of having a child, someone to look after, someone to care for, be there for… to be needed by someone… I’d like that.” 

“That’s definitely a doable goal I think. I think you’re finally in a place where you’d be able to be a caregiver. If you want to be sure, there are volunteering positions to help people at events- young children, camps for teenagers, so on, so forth. There’s also courses to give people more skills and knowledge on raising children that I can enrol you in?” She suggested. Bucky agreed. Not long after all of that, the session ended, and Bucky began his walk back to base to see if anyone had heard from the rest of the team yet. Almost all of the Avengers- except Bruce- had gone out on a mission. Originally he had been meant to go himself, but when the team found out that he had a session booked the same day and he might not make it, they removed him from it, knowing that his healing is far more important than another gun on their already overpowered team. 

About halfway through the walk, was when his phone in his pocket buzzed repeatedly. He felt it easily, and he pulled the phone out, seeing Steve’s name on the front, and he answered it, pressing the phone to his ear. “Hey Steve, I’m on my way back now, are you already back?” He asked Steve, continuing his walk. 

“Bucky I need to ask you a serious question and I need you to answer me to the best of your ability.” Steve’s serious tone made Bucky freeze on the side of the street. His eyes darted around the busy streets, finding a corner that was silent and hidden in shadows, and dashing over to it, before answering Steve. 

“Alright. Ask away.” Bucky answered. 

“Do you know of any other Winter Soldiers?” Steve asked, and immediately Bucky’s heart thudded.

“N-No. Wait, did you find more?” Bucky asked. 

“We don’t know… she’s a kid, Buck.” Steve answered. Bucky wanted to be sick, his mind already racing on what exactly they had found. A girl, a young girl, a child, according to Steve. And from whatever information and evidence they had found, it was enough to point them back to the Winter Soldier program and him. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Is she alive?”

“Yeah. Yeah she’s alive, we’re trying to treat her for a few injuries, but we’re having issues… James I think… she’d really benefit with you being here.” He told his best friend. That seemed odd to Bucky. He was a mythical monster to the other weapons of HYDRA, used to scare them into obeying, and he had no doubt that stories of him, even after he had escaped, would have been used to bring fear, especially to children. Still, he trusted Steve and his judgement. 

“Alright. I’ll be there soon.” Bucky answered shortly, hanging up, and his once leisurely stroll back to base, turned into a long sprint marathon. 

He arrived back in less than 20 minutes, finding Natasha already waiting for him, her motioning for him to follow her. “How did you find her?” He asked her. 

“They realised we were attacking them and raised the alarm, and seemingly let her loose with some of their other agents to try and slow us down. That didn’t happen though.” Natasha explained, power walking through the base. 

“What do you mean it didn’t happen?” Bucky asked. 

“She turned on them. She killed several of the guards and scientists herself and we found her in the process of trying to kill the head researcher. He’s getting medical care- it’s 50/50 whether he’ll live or not, not that I really care. After we stopped her, she surrendered to us, but she’s not talking and won’t let anyone touch her. We really don’t want to restrain her Buck, since that will undoubtedly make her worse, but I realised she was bleeding from her leg and we think she’s been shot but we can’t treat her.” Natasha explained, stopping at a door, and finally turning to him. 

“How can I help with this? If anything, she’s going to have heard about me and become terrified.” He questioned, her features softening into a sad smile. 

“Can you take your jacket off and your glove? So she can see it?” She asked. Bucky’s eyes darted down to his arm, flexing his robotic fingers, before looking up at Natasha, unsure and confused. “We’ll introduce you, just… be as soft and kind as possible with her, okay? Trust me.” She asked. Bucky sighed, and with some hesitance, he removed his glove, shoving it into his jacket pocket, before pulling his jacket off, leaving him with just his short sleeve shirt, his arm on full display. Bucky nodded to her, and she opened the door, stepping in and aside to let him in. 

“Come on kiddo, I promise it’ll be over before you know it.” Bucky walked into the scene of Tony trying to talk to you, offering a small bag of fruity snacks, though you kept your head down and totally ignored his presence beside you. Bruce was on the other side of you, looking lost on what he can do without making anything worse. Steve was leant against the nearby wall, spotting Bucky and Nat first, and he stood up straight. Bucky glanced at him, before properly looking at you, and when he did, he understood. 

You were sitting on the medical bed, legs stretched out, your head low, and your arms hugged against your body. Your arms were what Bucky hyper fixated on. They were metal, both of them, all the way up to the shoulders. You had tucked your arms to the best of your ability under the thin blanket that already had a growing blood stain where one of your legs were. Bucky wasn’t sure what had happened to you that meant you had to have both your arms amputated and replaced by robotic ones, or even if there was a reason or if they just did that, but that didn’t matter right now. You were clearly uncomfortable with them being seeing, and your hatred for being touched was something that Bucky empathised with. 

“Thanks for coming so quickly.” Steve spoke up, making Tony and Bruce turn as well, and after a moment, Bucky watched as your eyes also looked up to see who was there, and met his. He was convinced he’d see you flinch, be terrified, and he would make this whole situation worse, but then your eyes left his, and fell onto his arm, and he watched you relax. You actually relaxed in his presence. That immediately made Bucky relax as well as he slowly stepped closer. Tony moved out of his way so he could be by your side.

“English?” Bucky clarified and you nodded at him. “Alright. I’m James, but my friends call me Bucky. I know better than anyone how scary this all is, and how you probably really don’t want anyone prodding or poking at you anymore.” He spoke softly, keeping eye contact with you. He caught in the corner of his eye that you raised one arm from under the sheets, hesitantly reaching for him, specifically his metal arm. He reached out as well, carefully taking your metal arm in his, and your eyes stared at his arm, as the metal sheets slid and moved to adjust, similar to your own, before you looked back at him. 

“They hurt you too?” You asked quietly. Bucky swallowed hard, knowing who ‘they’ were, and he nodded. 

“Lost it originally from falling out of a train, but they kidnapped me and did this… my friends have helped me adjust, and they want to help you too.” He explained to you.

“They…” You hesitated, looking down at your hand holding his, before continuing. “They took mine. I don’t know why. They just did.” You explained to him, and Bucky nodded along, listening to you while also clenching his jaw, trying not to cry. Trying not to squeeze your hand on accident because of his anger. 

“They were wrong for doing that, they were pure evil, and I promise you, you’re safe now, and they can’t hurt you anymore, I promise.” He smiled reassuringly. “As soon as we tend to that bullet wound, we’ll get you settled in, you can start school, be a normal teenager, or as normal as you can be, how does that sound?” He asked, and after a lot of hesitation, you nodded, and with Bucky holding your hand, you allowed Bruce to tend to your wound. 

You didn’t talk to anyone for the first week, other than Bucky, but slowly started talking to the others as time passed. They got you situated in one of the bedrooms on base, but after FRIDAY reported you kept hiding under the bed or locking yourself on purpose in the bathroom and sleeping on the cold tile floor, Bucky made the suggestion to move you into a smaller space. He didn’t have to go into detail when explaining you weren’t used to sleeping on a nice warm bed in a giant room, and how it probably felt alien and wrong to sleep there. Tony didn’t have any rooms that were smaller that could function as a bedroom, and it was Steve who suggested you move into an apartment with one of them, that someone clearly being Bucky. Bucky, like showing up to see you in the first place, wasn’t sure about that idea- worried he’d have a relapse with his nightmares and scare you, but he trusted Steve. Tony paid for an upgraded apartment- a two bedroom in brooklyn, still a small walk away from Steve if he was needed, and Bucky moved all his stuff in before they moved you in. 

“This is the place.” Bucky told you, opening the door to the apartment, and you cautiously stepped inside, looking around. Bucky didn’t have a lot of things, so other than a bookshelf crammed with books, an old radio, the bulky television and some photos before the war on one wall and another wall of photos from after escaping HYDRA. James wasn’t sure how you’d react to all this, so he watched you diligently. He walked around, leaning on a wall, just watching you. He saw your eyes look around, before you spotted his old radio- one that was close replica to the ones before the war- and you seemed to relax, before walking over to it, gingerly touching it, before turning it on, tuning it a little, seemingly disappointed at the radio station, before looking around, and spotting the pre-war photographs, and walked over, looking at them, and smiling. “You like them?” Bucky asked, walking over slowly. 

“They remind me of before the war.” You commented, before seeming to think and turning to him quickly. “Are you from before the war too?” You asked him. Bucky’s eyebrows pinched together. 

“Are you? Y/N, what year did they take you?” He demanded. 

“1940… 1945? I think? The war was still on…” You explained to him, looking back at the photos, spotting him in his uniform. “You were a sergeant?”

“Y/N.” Bucky stepped closely, gently grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “You were kidnapped by HYDRA before the war? You were frozen?” He asked. You nodded. Bucky hated that. He hated that there was yet another thing you shared with him. Metal arms, HYDRA, lives before the war, being weapons, and thrust into a new world. He’d long accepted that it’s just his life now, but that it happened to you? A kid? He hated it. “Y/N… What do you remember about your life before the war?” He asked. 

You talked for hours. Sitting down on the couch, you just talked about all you remembered, bits and pieces, sometimes certain memories popping up from talking and you’d interrupt yourself just to talk about them. You told him about your parents, your dad being in the army, your mom working in a factory where they made ammunition and ballistics, where unfortunately an accident happened with fire and an explosion, and your mother was killed, leaving you alone for a period of time with your dad other seas and unable to return, and no other family to care for you, before you were sent to go live with a foster family until after the war. That family were actually HYDRA. You didn’t know what happened to your dad, if he survived the war, and if he did, if he looked for you or if he was told you had died and he moved on, maybe had a new family. Maybe you had a step mother, half siblings, maybe you were an aunt now… but you didn’t know. Bucky took the time to text your dad’s name and rank in the war to Natasha and ask her to look into him, and she responded an hour later with an obituary, and a date of death and cause. Killed in action. Bucky told you the news softly, and it was then you stopped talking. You sat there for a period of time, just processing what he had said, and Bucky remained sat there, waiting for you.

“...I’m alone, aren’t I?” You finally spoke up. “I’ve lost everything.” 

“Not necessarily.” Bucky pointed out. “If your dad was in the military, then there’s probably photographs of him. If any photos were taken of you and your family before the war, I know for a fact that Natasha and Tony can find them, and we can get them printed and framed for you, so you can have something of theirs… and you have me.” He told you. You turned to look at him. 

“Really?” 

“Of course. As long as you need me, I’m there. I’ve been through exactly the same thing as you, I know exactly how you’re feeling and I want you to be happy and to have as close to a normal life as possible. Since you live with me, that makes me your guardian. If you want to go to school, I’ll go to all your parent-teacher meetings and help with your homework. If you want to do after school activities, I’ll go to all your games and shows and awards. If you want to talk about the 1930’s and 40’s, let’s talk about it, if you want to talk about what happened with HYDRA, let’s talk about it or we can try therapy if you want. Whatever you want to do with your life, I’ll support you no matter what. I’m here for you, no matter what, and I’m not going anywhere.” He told you. You didn’t respond at first, and when you did, you didn’t respond with words. Instead, you crawled across the couch to be closer to him, wrapping your arms around him, and resting your head on his shoulder, and Bucky hugged you back. 

“I’d like that. Thank you.” He heard you speak. He held you as the sun went down, and only after realizing you had fallen asleep and he was gonna have to carry you to bed, that he realized something. He’d done it. He’d reached his goal that he had set with his therapist just over a month ago. It was totally unconventional, nothing he could have predicted, but he’d gotten his family. He’d found the child he wanted, the person he wanted to care and be there for, to watch grow and thrive and to help them with that. He’d found you. 

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @dailyteambucky @mxrvelsaos @klanceiscannon14 @marvelhoeingismyhobby-blog @bellamyblakemorley @dummiesshort  @freyathehuntress @abbybills22-blog @mutantjediavenger @theoraekensnotsosecretlover @alicedanganh @sleutherclaw @sleepy-coffee-bean @stawwpp @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[agaypanic]

Making a Little Genius (Malcolm Wilkerson X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You and Malcolm have a big party with your friends and family to celebrate you getting engaged and graduating Harvard with doctorates. During said party, you and Malcolm go to the bathroom to have a different kind of celebration.

A/N: based on this ask and this ask, plus some others i probably forgot about. Idk anything about doctorates, graduating college, or tbh probably anything in this fic. Year isn’t specified, but malcolm + reader are like 25. Francis is about 29, Reese 26, Dewey 19, Jamie 10, and the new kid is like 6. I made the newest kid a girl bc i feel like lois deserves it. You don’t need to know any of this, I just thought I’d say just in case lol

C/W: unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it!), breeding kink, dumbification kink, degrading kink, semi-public sex (empty room at a party), mommy and daddy kink

***

Malcolm had been eyeing you the entire day. It started out innocently. In the morning, he watched you fondly as he helped you decorate the house for the party you were having today. Malcolm paid extra attention to how the engagement ring he had given you shone in the light. After all, it was part of the reason you were having a party in the first place.

At first, Malcolm was against a big celebration. The last thing he needed was his crazy family, mainly his brothers and their children, messing around and breaking everything valuable around his house.

He finally knew how his parents felt about him and his brothers.

But you were always able to convince your boyfriend, now fiance, to loosen up a little. Which was why your little backyard was now crowded with your families and friends. Malcolm tried to stay close to you, but eventually got distracted by Jamie trying to give their little sister Maggie a string of firecrackers. Usually, he wouldn’t be so concerned, despite every Wilkerson child’s destructive streak. But Maggie had grown out of her phase of putting everything in her mouth and had now become very interested in fire and “making things go boom!”

When Malcolm was finally able to wrestle the tiny explosives and lighter out of Maggie’s hands, you were on the porch cooing over your new soon-to-be niece. “I can’t believe you’re a dad now, Reese.” You said, letting baby Olivia grab at your fingers. “It’s like you’re a real grown up.”

“I still have my moments.” Reese smiled with a shrug. “Don’t tell Jen, but sometimes I let Livvie lick the spoon a little when I’m making cakes.”

You snorted, surprised that that was the best example of mischief Reese was able to come up with now. You weren’t going to complain though. It was definitely better than his days of fighting rabid packs of dogs and beating on his brothers. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“What secret?” Malcolm startled you, making you hold your future niece extra close to you. When you realized it was your fiance who had snuck up on you, you relaxed a bit and smirked at his brother.

“Nothing. Just that Reese isn’t the bad boy he used to be.” You chuckled before catching a glimpse of what Malcolm was holding. “Where did you get firecrackers?”

“Maggie.” He sighed, jerking his head towards the house. “Come on, help me find a place to hide these before we have to buy our neighbors new mailboxes.”

Carefully, you handed Olivia back to her dad before following Malcolm inside the house. While wandering around, looking for a place to hide the tiny explosives, you and Malcolm basked in the rare moment of solitude after hours of being surrounded by your family. 

“Olivia’s the cutest thing.” You said as you opened the medicine cabinet in your bathroom. Malcolm nodded, watching you sit on the counter. “Just think. One day, we’ll have some little geniuses of our own running around.”

“Oh yeah?” Malcolm smirked, closing the cabinet and moving to stand in front of you. “How soon do you think?”

The look in his eyes made you smile coyly. “I dunno.” You shrugged, wrapping your arms around Malcolm’s shoulders. “After we’re married with better health insurance would probably be the ideal scenario. But…” You trailed off, letting a hand play with the hair at the nape of Malcolm’s neck.

“But…?” Malcolm encouraged.

“But,” you repeated, lips inching closer to his. “There’s no harm in practicing.”

Malcolm pulled your body against his as he kissed you feverishly. His hands roamed your body, groping your boobs and hips before hiking the skirt of your dress up. You moaned into Malcolm’s mouth as he squeezed your thighs and rutted his growing erection against you. Overwhelmed by desire, you did your best to move your hips in time with his to relieve your aching need for friction. 

A whine escaped your lips as Malcolm pulled your top down, making your breasts victim to his licks and bites that were now trailing down from your neck. “Perfect tits.” He muttered against your skin. “Gonna be even more perfect when I make you a mommy.” 

While Malcolm pinched your nipples, your somewhat shaky hands traveled down to unbuckle his belt and pull down his zipper. You reached in and started palming him through his boxers, and you bit your lip from how hard he was against you. 

“You want Daddy’s cock?” You moaned in response. You never thought that Malcolm would have a daddy kink, or that it would make you this horny. Yet here you were, tugging at Malcolm’s clothes just enough to allow his cock to spring free and spreading your legs as wide as you were able. Malcolm pulled your panties to the side before fisting himself, staring at your pussy that was begging for him. “God, you’re so wet, baby. Gonna fill you up so good.”

When he was fully stiff, Malcolm slowly guided himself into you. It took all his strength to not immediately ram into you; you just felt so good. He started with slow thrusts, allowing you to get used to his size while also trying to release the mutual desperation. 

“Mal…” You sighed. “More.”

“Oh yeah? You want more? Want Daddy to fuck you harder?”

Too overwhelmed to speak, you instead nodded furiously and swung your arms around his shoulders to brace yourself for what was to come. 

Almost instantly, Malcolm started pistoning in and out of you. You’d never understand where he got the stamina for such a rapid pace. Maybe all the coffee he consumed during finals had made him permanently jittery and speedy. But you weren’t about to complain, not when the drag of his cock against you sent electricity up your spine.

Malcolm reached down to thumb at your clit, and he couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh when he felt you squeezing him in response. “You like that?” Although the question was genuine, his tone was entirely condescending. It only made you wetter. You tried to respond, but all that came out was a cockdrunk babble. “What was that?” Malcolm slowed his pace a bit, making you whine in protest.

“Fa-...” You could barely finish the word. The hand that wasn’t playing with your clit cupped your face, squeezing your cheeks and forcing you to look at Malcolm. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and all you did was grab his arm and try to move your hips to get him to keep fucking you.

Malcolm laughed, realizing what was happening. “I’m really fucking your brains out, aren’t I? Nothing but a cocksleeve for me.” His degrading just made you even wetter. Deciding to have some mercy on you, Malcolm started pounding into you again. “How much of a genius is this kid gonna be?” He panted, circling your clit vigorously. “Mommy’s a Harvard graduate, but gets too dumb to speak when I fuck her.”

“Gonna…” You took a deep breath, feeling yourself inching closer and closer to the edge. You had an iron grip on Malcolm’s shirt, no doubt wrinkling the fabric in your fist.

“Oh!” Malcolm looked at you with faux surprise. “Got something to say? Come on, tell Daddy what you’re thinking, if you’re even able to form a thought.”

His condescension spurred you on. “Gonna come.” You finally spat out.

Malcolm nodded. “Good girl.” His breathing got heavier with every thrust. “God, I’m so close.”

“In me.” You moaned. “Come in me. Please.”

“Yeah? Want me to fill you up?” Malcolm’s hips stuttered, trying to restrain himself from coming for just a little while longer. “Want me to make you a mommy?”

“Uh huh.” You whined. “Make you a daddy.”

The intensity of your orgasm made you shake, and Malcolm’s quickly followed from your cunt spasming around him. The foreign feeling of his hot seed filling you was intoxicating, and part of you hoped that you wouldn’t get pregnant right away so you could get more of this feeling. Malcolm seemed to like the rawness as well because instead of pulling out, he seemed to be pressing into you as much as he could. 

Even when you both came down from your climaxes, you didn’t want to pull away. But you both knew you had to eventually.

“I don’t wanna go back out there.” You mumbled tiredly into Malcolm’s shoulder. He laughed, seeming to share the sentiment as he rubbed your back.

“Yeah, I don’t know how we’re gonna explain us being gone for so long.”

“Or why I’m suddenly walking with a limp.”

Malcolm laughed again, lifting your head up so he could press a kiss to your lips. His gentleness starkly contrasted how he was a few minutes ago. 

He rubbed your hip, giving you a few more kisses before speaking again. “You really want a kid?”

You nodded, a grin slowly forming. “I wouldn’t mind a bit more practicing though.”

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Steve has a few younger siblings. He is very protective over them (2 brothers & 1 baby sister) his family is very close. But the party meeting his siblings in the hospital post spring break from hell, Steve's little sister screams tearfully until she is put beside her older brother who is in hospital due to severe injuries. His younger brothers (8yrs old & 5 yrs old) demand for their big brother to be left alone by these strangers. The party demanded to know why he kept his siblings from them???? Also Steve just being loved on by his parents & his siblings and of the party.

DARLING IDK HOW YOU COME UP WITH THIS STUFF BUT THANK GOD YA DO!!! Steve having siblings and good parents and STILL choosing to be the best damn babysitter is kind of giving me LIFE. I am forever here for giving Steve all the love he deserves. A little backstory for this in my brain: Steve's parents got married right out of high school at their own parents' insistence, and they loved each other, but wanted to go to college first. Anne got pregnant during their honeymoon and had to put college on hold. The reason there's such a big age gap between Steve and his siblings is because she finished college, started working as a lawyer, and then went into business with Richard. Once they were comfortable in that for a couple years, they decided to have more kids. We love responsible decisions!!! - Mickala ❤️

--------------------------------------------------------

Steve spent 12 hours unconscious, which would be more alarming if he hadn’t had worse before. At least this time he was in a hospital for it.

Or maybe that was worse.

His mom was by his side the moment he woke up, along with a pacing Dustin and half-asleep Robin.

“Mom? Where’s Dad?”

“Oh, honey!” Anne Harrington was a strong woman, a lawyer who didn’t take shit from anyone, only cried when Steve won his basketball championship and graduated high school. But here she was, sobbing against his hand tightly grasped in her own. “He’s with your brothers and sister. I didn’t want them to see you like this, honey. You almost died!”

Maybe that was true. He certainly felt like he almost died.

He felt Robin and Dustin staring at them, realized what his mom had said.

“Brothers?” Dustin asked, barely more than a whisper, from the foot of the hospital bed.

“Sister?” Robin asked, a yawn breaking out before she even finished asking.

There was a commotion outside the door, he could hear his father’s voice trying to stay calm as he spoke, but knew he was frustrated.

Then he heard a loud cry and his heart broke.

“Was that Bethany?” Steve croaked, his eyes watering at the wails his three year old sister was letting out.

Anne looked at the mostly closed door, nodding as she turned back to Steve in the bed.

“They’ve been begging to see you since this morning. They wouldn’t stop begging to come, so your dad compromised and said they could sit in the waiting room until you woke up, but they’ve been sitting there for two hours. You know how they get.”

He did. He knew that any compromise they’d agreed to was going to work to their benefit in the end because they were all much too clever for their ages.

Suddenly, the door shot open and his eight year old brother, James, stood there with wide eyes. His five year old brother, Ryan, stood behind him, bouncing on his feet so he could try to see.

His father appeared behind them, holding Bethany in his arms, and looking like he wished he could be anywhere else.

But that look disappeared when he saw that Steve was awake.

“I’m so glad you’re okay, son,” he said, a choked noise making its way from his throat like he would have sobbed if the kids weren’t there.

He could feel the confusion coming from Robin and Dustin, but now wasn’t the time to explain any of it.

“Hey kiddos. You guys okay?” Steve rasped out, giving a small smile to all his siblings.

James and Ryan ran to his bed, climbing onto it carefully when Anne snapped her fingers at them and told them to go slow so they didn’t hurt their brother.

“Down, daddy! Wanna see Steve!” Bethany was kicking her legs and trying to push away from Richard, who sighed and let her down.

She ran to the bed, ignored the warning to go slow, and piled into Steve’s lap.

It hurt, but she was so small, and Steve could deal with some discomfort if it meant she could see he was okay.

“Steve, you have boo-boos!”

He patted her always messy hair, and gave her the best smile he could muster.

“Just a few. I’m gonna get all better soon, though. The doctors just had to put some bandaids on them.”

“Are they Barbie bandaids?”

“Of course they aren’t, Bethany. They’re big and have to be wrapped,” James said.

Steve gripped James’ hand in his.

James was going through a phase of wanting to seem older than he was, which was normal, but he took a lot of it out on Bethany. Bethany could certainly hold her own, and often did, but they were all emotional and under a lot of stress at this moment, so Steve stepped in.

“Buddy, let’s just take it easy today, okay? It’s okay to be scared, but so is Bethany and she’s little, so we have to be patient. Like we talked about, remember?”

“What is happening right now?” Dustin asked, still standing awkwardly at the end of his bed.

“Um. Dustin, Robin, this is Bethany, James is to my left, and Ryan is to my right. These are my brothers and sister.”

“You have siblings.”

It wasn’t a question, but Steve could hear the disbelief in Dustin’s tone.

“I do.”

“You never mentioned them?” Robin asked as she looked at where Richard and Anne were now whispering in the corner of the room.

“It just never really came up?”

“Uh. Okay.”

“Who are these people?” Ryan asked as he turned his face into Steve’s arm, always more shy than his other siblings.

“That’s my best friend, Robin, and Dustin. I used to babysit him and now he’s like another brother.”

“But we’re your brothers,” James said, crossing his arms against his chest.

“Of course. But there’s plenty of room to have Dustin around, too. He’s awesome. He can teach you D&D!”

Bethany was curling up against his chest, at least being more careful now that she’d seen his injuries up close. Ryan was shuffling closer to his side, burying his head under his arm like he did on their family movie nights when he was getting tired but didn’t want anyone to know. James was still tense, jealous.

“Did he teach you D&D?”

“Nah. I told you it’s too complicated for me.”

“Did I hear someone say D&D?” Eddie peeked his head through the door, grin lighting up the room.

“Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed.

“Looks like Steve’s got a whole party in here! Are we playing or what?”

Eddie walked into the room completely, smiling until he realized that Steve’s parents were here.

They got together during chaos; they didn’t have time to talk about logistics, about what Steve’s parents knew about him, if they would even be okay with him.

He’d briefly mentioned his siblings to Eddie when they were getting weapons ready, but didn’t talk much about anything else.

“Eds, these are my parents, Richard and Anne,” Steve introduced them, winking at his mom when she gave him a questioning look.

He’d been out to his parents for months, accidentally letting slip that he’d gone on a date with a guy on their Christmas vacation. They took it well overall, the shock making it seem like they were upset, but they were just confused about why he’d only ever brought home girls.

“Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes practically bulged out of his head when he realized what Steve was doing.

“Ew, a boyfriend?” James, already back to his previous attitude, curled his lip up in disgust.

He looked so like Steve sometimes, it was alarming. If they were out running errands together, people often assumed he was his son.

“James! Watch your tone!” Anne said as she reached out a hand to shake Eddie’s. “It’s lovely to meet you, Eddie. I assume you’re the one who helped carry Steve to safety?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“So polite. Who would’ve thought Steve found someone so nice?” Richard said with a smirk and a wink at Steve.

“Are you in love?” Bethany asked as she watched Eddie from her spot against Steve’s chest.

Steve could feel his face heat up, watched as Eddie’s face went red and he looked down at the floor.

“We care about each other a lot, B,” Steve replied, hoping she would drop it.

“But he saved you! Like a princess!”

Eddie let out a small laugh as he got closer to the bed and sat down on the edge.

“Well, you look like a princess, too. What’s your name?” He asked, glancing up at Steve for a moment to make sure it was okay he sat there. Steve nodded once.

“Beffany.”

“Princess Bethany? Of Loch Nora?”

Bethany looked at Anne to confirm, nodding as soon as her mom gave her a thumbs up.

Eddie stood back up, bowed, and then sat down again.

“It’s an honor to be in your presence, your highness.”

“Are you a knight?” she asked as she scooted away from Steve’s chest and off his lap, climbing her way into Eddie’s.

Ryan was even pulling away slightly to watch what was going on.

“I wish! I haven’t been through all of my training yet. Maybe you could help me?”

“What kinda trainin’?” Bethany started playing with his hair, but Eddie didn’t stop her, wanted her to feel comfortable while Steve recovered.

“I need to learn my royal etiquette. Do you think you can show me?”

“Yes! We have lessons!”

“Great!” Eddie beamed at her. “Maybe you can give me lessons when your brother goes home?”

“Mommy! Can Eddie come play?”

“Of course. But not today. Steve has to keep resting here for a couple days and I think Eddie probably wants to be here for him.”

“Okay. I stay too?”

“No, baby. We have to let Steve rest some more. We can come back to visit tomorrow.”

Steve felt Ryan and James cling to his arms when they realized that meant they were all leaving.

“But Robin and Dustin are staying!” James was jealous. He loved spending time with Steve, thrived on being considered “mature” enough to run errands with him when their parents were busy, helping him with chores because he was the only one big enough.

Dustin was a threat to his time with Steve, even at eight he could tell.

“Actually, I passed Dustin’s mom on the way here and she was coming to get him soon to go home. He hurt his ankle and shouldn’t even be walking around right now,” Eddie said, eyes squinting in Dustin’s direction like they’d already discussed this once.

“And I have to get home to my parents so they don’t worry. Maybe you can walk me to the bus stop and keep me safe?” Robin asked, somewhat awkwardly.

She didn’t know how to talk to kids, but it was a valiant attempt.

And it seemed to work.

James perked up at the thought of helping in a big kid way.

“Oh, darling, we can drop you off at your house on our way home,” Anne said. “I’ll take you and James can walk with us so we aren’t alone. Right, James?”

James nodded vigorously.

“I’ll protect you. And then we can come back tomorrow to see if Steve’s better.”

Steve leaned down and kissed the top of Ryan’s head, smiling when he realized he fell asleep at some point during the conversation.

“He barely slept last night. I’ll carry him. Hopefully now that he’s seen you’re alive and okay he can rest,” Richard said with a sad smile.

“If you bring them all tomorrow morning, I can help them make character sheets for D&D,” Eddie suggested.

“Yes! Please, dad! Can we?” James bounced in the bed, jostling everyone a bit.

Steve hissed in pain, but tried to cover it with a smile when James looked at him with an apologetic look.

“Sure. If you promise to sleep tonight and eat breakfast in the morning, we can come back.”

“I promise!” James poked Ryan. “Ryan! Promise you’ll sleep tonight and have breakfast in the morning so we can come play D&D!”

Ryan blinked a few times, nodded, then snuggled back into Steve’s side.

As Richard and Anne worked on gathering the kids and Robin and Dustin walked out with them, Steve relaxed in the hospital bed, finally feeling most of his injuries.

He knew they would give him more pain meds if he asked, but he wanted a few minutes with Eddie first.

“Hey.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie said as he took his hand in his own, gently squeezing as he made himself comfortable on the side of the bed.

“Thanks for being so cool with them,” Steve let his eyes close for a moment as he took in every wound on his body.

He knew this was a close one, could tell by the way Eddie was looking at him a moment ago.

“You never told anyone else about them?”

Steve shook his head.

“Didn’t really need to. I figured they’d all meet eventually. Just never came up before.”

“Want me to get the nurse?” Eddie could tell he didn’t want to talk about it right now, so he changed the subject quickly.

“In a minute. Wanna kiss you.”

“Oh yeah? Come kiss me then.”

Steve opened one eye and started pouting.

“You come kiss me,” Steve said.

“Fine. But only because you’re hurting.”

Eddie leaned down to press his lips against Steve’s softly, a comfort as much as a promise for more when he was better.

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah, sweetheart. Just gonna get the nurse and grab a snack from the machine down the hall and then I’m all yours for the night.”

“Can’t wait to feel better.”

“I know. Maybe next time you won’t try to be a hero, hm?”

“No, I don’t care about the pain or anything.”

“Then…”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie choked. “Are you always like this or are there still some drugs in your system?”

“Dunno. Never felt like this with anyone else.”

“Stevie…”

“You’re good with them. Especially Bethany. She’s a lot. But you did good. Good for my nuggets.”

Steve was slowly losing consciousness and Eddie couldn’t help the fond smile creeping up on his face.

“They seem like good gremlins. They sure love you a lot,” Eddie whispered.

“Mhm. Love you.”

“Oh. I don’t think they know me well enough to love me yet, sweetheart, but that’s nice of you to say,” Eddie scrambled to get out, his heart flipping over in his chest at the thought that that wasn’t what Steve meant.

“No.” Steve opened his eyes, staring right at Eddie. “I do. I love you.”

It was crazy. Probably a product of his injuries, exhaustion, and drug cocktail in his system. He probably thought he loved him, but they’d only just gotten together officially.

“Eds. It’s okay. I’m just lettin’ you know how I feel. You don’t have to say it back.”

“I just. I. I think I love you too. I just don’t see how you love me.”

“‘S easy.”

Just that easy.

Like Steve would have said it whether he was in the hospital or not.

—------------

The next morning, James, Ryan, and Bethany planted themselves on Steve’s bed while Eddie explained character sheets to them.

Steve watched with a smile as all of his siblings watched Eddie in awe.

His family meant the world to him, and Eddie did too. He wanted things to always be like this.

When Eddie smiled at him over James’ shoulder a while later, he thought that maybe they would be.

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Venom

Pairings: father Miguel O’Hara x gn!teen!venom!reader, Venom x teen!reader

Imagine: what it would be like to be Miguel’s son and a spider-man along with venom, spider-venom? Idk guys

Warnings: mention of death, mention of parent death, mention of injuries, father Miguel O’Hara, idk what else, not proofread

A/N keep in mind the first part of this is before Gabriella died. Second I am aware that Miguel has a son somewhere out there in the comics, third don’t mind me referencing Moon Knight in some parts, lastly this is actually based on one of my ocs, but I made this fic x reader instead :)

Side note: I did imagine reader to be male (like my oc is) but I made it gn!reader so that everyone can read it

You lived on earth-TRN1042 (is that the name, it was when I searched it up, might be wrong tho), with you father Miguel O’Hara and your sister Gabriella O’Hara

Your canon event as tragic as it is was to watch as your father died — which would eventually lead you to become Spider-Man

You’d been bitten a few days prior and was still adjusting to the whole power thing

But we are getting ahead of ourselves, Here’s the thing Miguel (earth-928) lost his family on his earth and when he found out a way to go into other earths he found your earth. The one where he still had a happy family

His original plan was to just watch from afar, but when your father died, Miguel made the rash decision to take your fathers place, which didn’t go as smoothly as he thought, after all you had watched your father die

At first you thought you were going crazy when you first saw Miguel, apparently he’d been with your sister all day. You didn’t trust him one but, you knew for a fact your father was dead so when you saw him playing with Gabriella and her dolls you were in shock, you’d told Gabriella to go to her room, once she did the interrogation started, you’d felt your father take his last breath so you sure as hell would find out who this imposter was.

“Who are you?”

“I’m your father”

“No, no, no, no, I watched my father die, who are you?”

Miguel knew you wouldn’t stop your interrogation until you knew what was going on, this led to him giving you a long explanation about different earths, his family and everything in between, how he got his powers and literally his whole life story, only to ensure that you would let him stay, he wouldn’t stay against your wishes

You let him stay, not only because you knew what loss felt like, but you hadn’t told Gabriella yet and you didn’t know how you could tell her that her actual father was dead, and it would prove to be good to have an adult raise your little sister with you, so you let Miguel stay, eventually you saw him as your father too, Gabrielle being none the wiser when it came to her fathers true identity.

The first time you called Miguel “dad” or something alike, he was overjoyed

Miguel didn’t really enjoy you going out to beat bad guys up but he never told you not to, he knew why you did it so he never stopped you, and he used to do it so it would be kinda hypocritical of him to force you to stop, instead he’d be at home, and every time you snuck in through your window you could find Miguel in the living room ready to patch you up, telling you of every time for being reckless and getting hurt so many times

Don’t be offended when he calls you an “reckless idiot” (he’d probably say it in Spanish though) when you get home nearly half dead (Miguel might of overreacted a bit)

It was around this time when you started to get memory gaps from time to time, some fights you didn’t even remember how you defeated the enemy, and some days you woke up in an alleyway, (kinda like Steven in episode one of moon knight)

Before it all went to shit I’d like to think that Miguel gave up on the spider-man part of him and was just a single dad with his two kids working a boring job — not at Alcehmax, he won’t do that mistake again

You all lived rather peacefully for the most part, you’d help Gabriella get better at football/soccer, going to an ice cream shop every time after one of Gabriella’s matches, loss or win didn’t matter there was always ice cream after a match.

And then in a single day it all got taken away from you, in just a couple of minutes all you had ever known was gone

Your whole earth started to disappear along with the people in it, you’d been out on your daily spider-man patrols when it happened, you saw your father/Miguel running with Gabriella and so instead of trying to stop whatever was happening — or more like knowing you couldn’t stop it as you had no clue what it was — you went into the direction of your family.

And when your sister disappeared you didn’t know what to do anymore, Miguel at least able to think somewhat took your hand and soon enough you were on earth-928, and from a screen you watched as your dimension disappeared into nothingness

This left many questions and problems but the question you were mostly focused on was the fact that you hadn’t disappeared

Turns out the spider that bit you had bonded (idk if this works but it does now) with a symbiote — Venom — who was from another earth, and when the spider bit you, you’d not only gained spider-powers but Venom transferred over to you and the two of you bonded, this changed your DNA and caused you to be able to coexist on your own earth along with the earth that Venom was from (does this make sense ain’t got a single clue)

Turns out Venom hadn’t made an appearance (to your knowledge and Miguel’s) because he protected you whenever you couldn’t yourself, and all those memory gaps that you had was the times that Venom had taken over (you know kinda like Jake with Steven and Marc in Moon Knight)

Fast forward a bit and you’d joined the spider-society

You had learned to coexist with Venom, it took some time but it worked out in the end, at first people would think you were crazy as you yelled at nothing (except for you you were talking to Venom who was speaking inside your mind), a lot of spider-people stayed away from you not wanting to be near Venom as he is supposed to be a villain, but when they realized you were one of the good guys they stopped avoiding you and Venom

Venom would deny it to his grave but he is extremely protective over you, if anyone hurt you he wouldn’t hesitate to hurt/kill/eat them

Miguel also became way more protective, after he lost Gabriella he only had you left and he would only send you out on the easy missions — that is until you snuck out on one of their worsts missions and got hurt because no one else new you were there — cue Miguel letting you go on dangerous missions so that you wouldn’t sneak out again and possibly die, at leas if he knew where you were he could make sure you didn’t die.

Not only did Miguel become more grumpy and strict with all the rules, you also become a lot more grumpy as you grieved your sister, and friends

And then all the shit with Miles happened but that’s for part 2,3 (part 2 siding with Miles, part 3 siding with Miguel idk which will come out first)

[mazzystar24]

My 911 hills I will die on:

Eddie Diaz is gay

Buck has ADHD- the writers could come knocking on my door and tell me that he’s not and I still would argue with them with a PowerPoint and everything

The Buckley parents deserve to go straight to hell and their redemption arc makes me foam at the mouth (negative)

More on that: the insistence of a show that is so deeply rooted in the concept of found family to constantly give shitty parents redemption arcs is so irritating

Maddie Buckley didn’t raise buck since she was 9 years old while dealing with her own trauma or give him her jeep and money (AKA HER LITERAL SAFETY NET TO ESCAPE HER ABUSER) just so people can sit there and call her a bad sister -I’m a Maddie Buckley defender and I stand by that

Both sides were flawed with the lawsuit thing and neither should be too harshly judged- Bobby kept buck out when buck already proved himself but he was doing it out of protectiveness in his own flawed way because let’s be honest he just saw the guy he considers a son nearly die in front of him three times in one year and saw the PT and toll it all took through the whole process and keep in mind he’s already lost 2 kids already but buck also shouldn’t have sued impulsively or disclosed such intimate information and should’ve tried to take a more rational approach but let’s also be fair and remember this is the guy THAT DID GO THROUGH ALL THOSE THINGS IN THAT SHORT AMOUNT OF TIME like no one would be okay mentally, no one would be rational, not when you spend a shit ton of time to recover only to be told (in his brain at least) that it’s not enough from someone you not only consider as a mentor, friend and father figure but also the same person who was motivating you through your recovery

The way Shannon spoke about Christopher’s cerebral palsy will never not rub me the wrong way I’m sorry to any who love her

The way Natalia spoke about bucks death is also just a no from me

I actually hated the whole thing with Hen and the madney engagement like idk why the writing felt it was appropriate to try to compare Hen CHEATING (granted it was ooc and in season one) with Maddie suffering postpartum depression make it make sense- they could’ve had the same level of hen and chimney friendship moment/ hen looking out for him without doing this type of thing which just made me a little angry with hen while watching it but ultimately deciding this storyline doesnt exist in my brain

[pedroscurls]

Dirty Little Secret (Part 1).

Character(s): no-outbreak, age-gap!Joel Miller x fem!Reader Summary: You meet Joel Miller, the father of the bride. Word count: 1.9k A/N: Lol, I said I was gonna post this tomorrow, but I couldn't wait. I hope you guys enjoy this first part and thank you to anyone who reads this! As mentioned, idk what to call this, best friend’s fiancée’s dad!Joel x fem!reader? Lol, I feel like that's a bit complicated, but there's an age gap in this story. This is also pulled from my own experience (only the sexual tension... unfortunately nothin' happened lol🫣) Warning: age-gap (Joel is in his 50s, reader is in her early-30s) SERIES MASTERLIST

“So… Can you make it?”

“I wouldn’t miss it, Drew.” you tell your best friend, gently nudging his shoulder. “I just still can’t believe you’re finally settling down. I never thought I’d see the day.”

He laughs. Andrew - or Drew - has been your best friend since you were kids. You had moved into the neighborhood with your mom after she and your dad divorced and you remember how Drew and his family had welcomed you with open arms whenever your mom was too inebriated to take care of you. 

Living next door to Drew and his family was a godsend to you, especially at the young age of eight. They protected you. They made you feel safe, made you feel loved. It was always a stark contrast between your home and his. Drew’s house, from the moment you stepped foot inside, always gave you the warm feeling in your belly and you always found yourself never wanting to leave, not wanting to go back home to the empty and lonely feeling that you experienced every night. 

And now, over twenty years later, Drew and his family have maintained that unspoken promise to keep you safe, to protect you, and to always make sure that you were loved. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Drew rolls his eyes. “What about you? When are you gonna settle down?” 

Now it was your turn to laugh. You grab your wine glass and finish the last remaining liquid. “I’m not the marrying type,” you respond. 

“You won’t turn out like your parents,” he says softly. 

“Drew, I know,” you sigh. “I just– I don’t want to open myself up like that. It’s too scary.” 

“You never know,” Drew smiles. “I thought I liked being single, being with a different woman every week or so, but Sarah…” he lets out a sigh of contentment. “She’s just– It’s been four years since we’ve been together and I think I fall more in love with her every day.” 

“Okay, lover boy,” you chuckle. “We get it. You’re in love. You’re about to get married… But I agree with you. She’s the best, and she’s the only one of your girlfriends where she didn’t feel intimidated by me or our friendship.” 

Drew sighs, “I know. It’s the curse of having a woman as a best friend.” 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “The women before Sarah were just jealous and not confident or secure in their relationship with you.” 

Drew nods. “That’s true. Besides, you’re like a sister to me.” He smiles, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

“Like a big sister?” You tease. “Just kidding, we’re only a year apart.” 

“Yeah, and I’m the older one.”

Just as you were going to say something, Sarah steps out into the backyard and walks in your direction. You look over at Drew and smile to yourself, seeing the way his eyes light up when he sees her and how he immediately stands up to meet her half way, enveloping her in a tight embrace. 

���Hi, baby,” he whispers, gently kissing her temple. “How’d dinner with your dad go?” 

“It was good. He was asking about you. Same with Uncle Tommy.” 

“Ah,” he chuckles. “They’re gonna give me shit the next time I see them, aren’t they?” 

Sarah grins and you swear that you see Drew fall in love all over again with the sight of her smile. You can see her deep dimples on her cheeks and how her eyes soften and also seem to smile. It was one of the first things you noticed about her: the kind and warm look she gave you – it was the same look that Drew and his family looked at you. 

“You know it. Now, let me go say hi to my girl. Can you go inside and pour me a glass of wine?” 

Drew nods and kisses her cheek before he disappears inside the house. Sarah takes his seat and looks over at you, arching her brow. 

“What?” you ask. 

“I might have someone that is interested…” she grins. 

“Sarah,” you chuckle. “You and Drew need to stop playing matchmaker. The past two blind dates I have been on have been terrible.” 

“You didn’t even give it a chance,” Sarah sighs. 

“You know I like older guys,” you smile. “I just don’t want to settle down. Getting married and all that doesn’t have to happen for everyone.”

“I know,” she leans against you. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And a man isn’t gonna be the answer.” You look over at her. You can see the concern on her features – that was another thing that you learned about Sarah. She wears her heart on her sleeve and whenever she gets worried about the people she cares about, her face and expressions tell it all. “I’m fine,” you reassure her. “I got you and I got Drew. That’s all I need.” 

“Maybe I should set you up with my Uncle Tommy,” she teases, letting out a quiet laugh. “He’s older. Single. He needs a good woman to anchor him down.” 

“And why’s that?” you smile. “Is he trouble, Sarah?” 

She laughs, shaking her head. “No, he just hasn’t found someone yet.” 

“Like me,” you point out. 

“He’s older,” she chuckles. 

“Well, your engagement party is this weekend. I’m assuming he’s gonna be there?” you tease. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?” You see the light in her eyes, the excitement across her features. 

“No! He’s your uncle, how weird would that be?” 

“Not weird,” she laughs. “It’d be weird if it was my dad you were interested in.” 

“Isn’t he like fifty?” 

“More than that, fifty-six.” 

Drew steps out into the backyard with two glasses of wine, one for Sarah and another refill for you. 

“Is this an early celebration?” you tease. 

“We just wanna celebrate with you one-on-one before the pre-wedding festivities begin. It’s gonna be a lot,” Drew replies, sitting next to Sarah and wrapping his arm around her shoulders instantly. 

“Well, whatever you both need, just let me know. After all, I am your best woman,” you tell Drew. 

Sarah smiles and leans against Drew, bringing the glass of wine to her lips. “It’s gonna be fun,” she adds. “But Drew’s right. It will be a lot, so this is kind of like the calm before the storm.”

“Well, cheers to that then,” you laugh, raising your glass. “Cheers to you both and cheers for what’s to come.” 

You’re running late and by the time you reach Sarah dad’s house, there are so many cars that you have to park at the end of the street. You’re practically sprinting to the house, hearing the music and laughter coming from the backyard. You’re wearing a sleeveless navy blue satin dress that stops just past your knees, the thin spaghetti straps resting on your shoulders with a cowl neckline. Their engagement party is semi-formal and you can feel your feet begin to ache from the heels you’re wearing. 

Your hair is in loose curls and you’re about to knock on the door when it swings open. You look up at the man, feeling your breath immediately escape you. His hair is slicked back, tinges of gray in the dark brown. You notice his beard, patchy in some areas, his plump lips begging to be kissed, but as you obviously ogle this man, you don’t realize that he’s actually speaking to you. 

“Are ya lost?” his voice is deep, rough, and you just want to hear it against your ear as he’s thrusting– “Are ya here for the party?” 

“Yeah, sorry. I’m late. I’m Drew’s best woman–”

“Ah,” he interrupts. “You are late.” 

You can’t think. The sounds of the music and laughter drown out as you stare up at this man. He’s wearing black slacks and a dark green button up with the sleeves folded to his elbows. He’s staring at you too, though, hand remaining on the doorknob as he looks at you in amusement. 

“You gonna let me in or stand guard all day?” you say, trying to snap yourself out of this trance. For a split second, you forget why you’re here and all you can think about is talking to this man and having him take you up to his–

“That depends,” he smirks, the dimple on his right cheek appearing. “You gonna be polite and say please?” 

You blush. You’re sure he didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did, but you can’t help but notice the way his eyes linger on your frame. It gives you a bit of confidence as you step up to him, inches now separating your bodies. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

You see his smirk falter, his jaw tighten and instead of responding, he nods and steps aside to give some space between the both of you. 

“They’re in the backyard,” he adds. You step past him, looking over your shoulder at him to see that his eyes had fallen on your backside. When he looks up at you and realizes that you had caught him staring, he immediately clears his throat and points towards the driveway. “I’m just gonna–”

“Wait,” you interrupt, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm. “I didn’t get your name.” 

“Joel,” he responds. “Sarah’s dad.” 

Then, he removes himself from your grasp and walks out, shutting the door behind him. You clear your throat, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“Shit,” you whisper to yourself. “He does not look fifty-six.” You turn on your heel, following the sound of chatter and music as you try to rid yourself of the lingering thoughts of Joel. 

Joel isn’t expecting Drew’s best woman to look like you. When he opens the door and you’re standing on his doorstep in that dress, it takes every ounce of him not to look at you from top to bottom. It helps, though, that he notices you staring at him like you want him. It actually gives him confidence that a pretty thing like you is finding him attractive enough that you’re distracted enough not to hear what he’s actually saying. 

But then he hears you say that you’re Drew’s best woman. It all but crushes him, crushes any ounce of hope he was holding onto that maybe at the end of the night he’d take you to his bed. You’re off limits and you’re certainly too young for him, but he can’t help himself. 

He can’t help but ask you to beg and say please to come in. 

And when you do, without any hesitation, he feels the blood immediately rush towards the center of his pants. When you step closer to him, Joel has to tighten his jaw and tighten the grip he has on the doorknob. It anchors him, gives him something to ground himself or else he is going to lose his resolve… quick. 

When you finally step inside and walk past him, he turns just slightly to glance at your backside. The dress you’re wearing accentuates every curve while remaining modest enough, but he can’t help himself. Though, when Joel does look up, he feels embarrassed that you’ve caught him staring. 

He has to step outside, has to create some distance between him and you, but then he feels your soft touch on his forearm and it causes a shiver to run down his back. After he tells you that he’s Sarah’s dad, Joel doesn’t bother to wait to see your reaction. Instead, he leaves you standing there while he steps out of his house, shutting the door behind him and shutting the door to the inappropriate thoughts that fill his mind.

next.