#pure stupidity from these idiots | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hoonstrology · 5 days ago

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♯┆ERROR 404 .ᐟ word limit reached. [ 박성훈 ]

"i promise myself, while drinking a glass of water in the morning, to tell you. i'll confess what has been on the tip of my tongue tomorrow. you are pretty." — pretty u by seventeen.

꒰ pairing ꒱⠀⠀park sunghoon x fem!reader.

꒰ synopsis ꒱⠀⠀he wouldn't necessarily call himself talkative. sunghoon is just a normal college boy with normal hobbies and interests, so of course he likes talking about those, and he especially likes talking about you— but talking to you? it's an entirely different challenge. and he knows he has to man up and speak up before you get sick of his silence.

꒰ genres ꒱⠀⠀college!au, classmates!au, slow burn-ish, strangers to lovers, lowkey loser!sunghoon, romance, very fluffy, light angst, but a whole lot more comfort, a bit of jealousy, sunghoon is a stupid dumb idiot lover boy. ✮ featuring: enhypen's 02z + heeseung, ive's gaeul and liz, and seventeen's jeonghan. ꒰ warning! ꒱⠀⠀suggestive content, making out, swearing, pet names, alcohol consumption, parties, brief mentions of blood, unintentional self injury, poor attempts at humor, sunghoon is kind of emotionally constipated but in a good way. sunghoon's taller than reader. lmk if i missed anything!

꒰ word count ꒱⠀⠀18.3k words.┆read the teaser here.

꒰ from ! 🐰 yan ꒱⠀⠀my first written work !! i normally write smaus so writing a full oneshot has been daunting. this is my literal brain child so i hope you guys love it as much as i do. i would love to get feedback via asks/replies !! (pls be nice) ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏 ✾ 𝙍𝙀𝘽𝙇𝙊𝙂𝙎 are appreciated.

TODAY MARKED THE FIRST DAY OF YOUR FOUR YEARS IN COLLEGE. you walked past your university’s gates, chin tipped up and proud with a book held close to your chest, thin silver glasses framing your face, and a smile that you spent an entire hour practicing in the mirror yesterday.

you wore the best outfit you could, but not in a trying-hard overdressed kind of way, just enough effort to make you memorable. you wanted to make a good impression, after all.

if you could look lost enough, maybe a senior would notice you. maybe he’d ask for your schedule, walk you to class, make light gossip about the professors you have and in a few years, he’d propose to you in the same spot by the gates, and you’d say i do, and live a happy married lif—

clank!

you get snapped out of your sweet little daydream as pain shoots through your shoulder, down your left arm. “fuck.” you whisper, head snapping up to shoot a frustrated glare at the thick pole in front as if it’s the one who bumped into you.

the impact was hard enough to have your book and glasses falling to the floor with a thud, and definitely hard enough to leave a bruise tomorrow because even merely moving your arm makes you wince.

thankfully, the area was mostly empty— which meant your dream of being a college cool girl was still in play —save for a tall guy just a foot beside you.

shit.

he’s already kneeling down to pick your things up and before you could even bend over to help, he just looks up and gestures to you to stay still by pointing to your outfit. “skirt.” is all he says, his voice deep and quiet.

you’d normally blush at the gentlemanly gesture but instead, you do it out of pure embarrassment.

god, this wasn’t the meet-cute you imagined.

he hands you back your book and your glasses, freshly wiped of dirt from the hem of his faded black hoodie. you slip it on your face again and bow your head out of shame, stepping aside to escape this nightmare of an embarrassment, but before you could even attempt to, he tugs on the sleeve of your cardigan, showing you his open palm like he's telling you to stop.

and against your better judgement, you do.

the stranger slips one of his backpack’s straps off his shoulder, fishing a box out of it and begins scribbling away with a pen cap trapped between his teeth.

you took this time to look at him— really look at him. tall, lean physique, sharp features, fair skin. he wore a pair of black thick-rimmed glasses that framed his kind-looking eyes really well. he’s stylish, no question about that.

and painfully handsome, too.

the pen is closed with a faint click and he slips it back into his hoodie’s pocket and you take that as a sign to stop checking him out lest you embarrass yourself further.

his lips purse into a straight line and his thick eyebrows furrow closer as he gives the box an intense stare, the soft eyes from a while ago turning more serious and stressed as it turns to you, back to the box, and back to you again.

the suffocating silence is shattered by two men shouting from a distance, the shorter one of them comically jumping and waving his hands in the air.

he turns to look at the source of the noise and lets out a small grunt, handing you the box and before jogging away without another word.

you stand there dumbstruck, watching the three boys interact for a while before turning on your heels, slipping the box between your chest and the book. that was odd.

you walk to class with a sore shoulder and cheeks that still feel warm from the whole ordeal. upon finding your room, new faces give you polite smiles or nods of acknowledgement and you do the same. once you're seated and settled, you put the book down on top of your desk.

the forgotten box falls on your lap, urging you to take a closer look at it.

menthol pain relief patches.

you flip the box around and you're greeted by a pastel yellow post-it note stuck on the back.

“for your shoulder. please be careful next time.”

he probably thinks you're a loser with no depth perception. and he wouldn't be wrong for thinking that, but it doesn't stop your cheeks from heating up for the nth time this morning.

you convince yourself it's okay. that your university is big, and you surely you won't meet him again. the fact disappoints you a little bit, but at least you're saved from having to face him after what happened.

you press your fingers against your forehead in stress.

first day in and you’ve already made a fool of yourself in front of a man. not just any man but a handsome one. a very important distinction.

developing a crush feels on him feels pathetic. he just gave you muscle relief patches, an act of kindness that was just a little bit above the bare minimum. and he only said one word to you, for gods’ sake. but you’ve never been one to think logically, so while your lecture starts, your head starts drifting off and it’s already incorporating the good-looking, tall stranger in your romantic fantasies.

turns out, the man in your dreams wouldn’t be a senior, nor would he be gossiping with you about your professors.

instead, you’d be sharing them.

during your third class of the day, the handsome stranger walks in the lecture hall with his two friends in tow and you immediately recognize him because of the glasses. his hands are stuffed into his hoodie as he settles on a seat a couple of rows in front of you, still as intimidating as he looked like when he gave you the box.

you learned of his name when the professor called him to read a passage in the book.

park sunghoon.

you think it’s a pretty name— fitting for a pretty boy like him.

sunghoon’s voice was steady while he read, smoothly pronouncing every word, clearing his throat after a mistake and resuming with the same composure. the speed at which he spoke was just right, slow enough to enunciate every syllable but not too much to bore whoever chose to listen.

"mr. park, care to share your thoughts on what you just read?"

sunghoon only stood straighter, his natural confidence in his voice making you swoon in your seat.

“i don't believe the fable's moral lesson to necessarily be applicable in real life where businesses and industries have become fast-paced. should the readers need to have a takeaway, they should focus on what the hare lacked— humility. his over-confidence is the ultimate reason for his downfall, being a creature that has already been given natural talent and an advantage on the terrain—”

just like that, your small happy crush turned into full-blown attraction. his voice? his eloquence? damn. it’s like he’s trying (and succeeding) to make you want him.

you wish you had sat in front so you could look at him more. you could only imagine how stern he’d look, how his thick brows would meet together making him look even more gorgeous when he’s focused. but for now, you could settle for the view of his back while trying your best to listen to your professor, and not to the voice that suspiciously resembles sunghoon's playing in a constant loop inside your head.

he’s in the rest of your classes today too, which makes the task of focusing twice as hard. you feel like a creep with the way your eyes naturally gravitate to him every time you hear his voice, or when you see a tiny bit of movement from the corner of your eye.

so when it’s almost time to go home, you do the most un-creepy thing you can think of: wait outside the door.

a student, and another, they all step out one by one. then he finally walks out, laughing at something his friend said before freezing mid-sentence as he catches sight of you standing with a familiar box laid out on your palm.

he looked surprised for a moment, before gripping on the single strap hanging on his shoulder, shifting uncomfortably before raising a brow like he was waiting for you to speak.

“oh! i, uh.. i already put some on my shoulder and on my arm a while ago. there’s too much in the pack and i figured i could give it back to you since i don’t really have any use for it.” you explain, pushing it towards him.

one of his friends gasps at the sight, quickly throwing a punch to sunghoon’s shoulder which he receives with a quiet hiss.

“what the fuck, hoon? i was looking for that! you know i have try-outs later!” the boy shouts, his australian accent thick and evident as he snatches the pack from your palm. “tch, can’t believe you lied to me.”

sunghoon gives him a cold stare, taking the patches away again before whispering something to the other boy which resulted in the rowdy blonde getting dragged away by his collar. he flipped the box over once, twice, and raised an eyebrow, seeming to notice that the post-it note was not there anymore.

“is this what you’re looking for?” taking the neatly folded paper from your pocket, you place it on top of the box. “i’m sorry for taking it. i thought it was for me. unless you also have other friends who regularly bump into poles while actively daydreaming and you actually meant to give that to someone els—”

sunghoon cuts you off with his index finger pressed on his own lips. he gives both back to you before flashing you a small smile, one that causes your poor little heart to thump faster.

“for you. keep it.” his words are clipped but you can feel the kindness behind them.

say something, anything, to keep the conversation going.

“i’m y/n, by the way.” you hold your hand out.

“i know. i’m sunghoon.” he murmurs, looking at the hand extended towards him before shaking it.

you sense the slight hesitation but the contact makes you giddy nonetheless. it’s as sweet as it is short lived because sunghoon quickly lets go, hands returning to the safety of his hoodie’s pocket.

“huh? how’d you know? i don’t remember the professor calling me. wait- did he take attendance? shit, i forgot to say present—”

the chuckle he lets out is low and breathy, making the words halt in your mouth. sunghoon shakes his head and his eyes do a quick scan of you before pointing to the small sticker that reads 'yoon y/n's!' on the book you've been holding.

"oh."

another beat of awkward silence.

“uh.. what’s your schedule?” you ask with a kind smile, following sunghoon as he starts walking towards your building's exit, trying not to dwell on how he started walking slower, at the perfect pace for you to keep up with his long strides.

he fishes for his phone to show you the picture and you do the same, eyes looking at your screen then his. “we share most classes! all the ones in the afternoon.” you smile victoriously, and sunghoon releases another quiet chuckle, nodding along.

before you know it, you’ve reached the gate where his friends are waiting. he pauses, squinting his eyes at the duo who suddenly stopped talking to look between you and him, teasing grins plastered on their faces which just made sunghoon rub his temple.

“oh? who is this? a new friend?” the black-haired friend asks, a smirk on his lips while raising an eyebrow at sunghoon.

“y/n.” sunghoon says, pointing to you. “jake.” he points to the blonde boy with an aussie accent, before turning to the tanner friend with a jawline so sharp you’re convinced you’d need more than menthol patches if you touched it. “jay.”

sunghoon must have told them about what happened this morning because they looked at you, eyes scanning you up and down with anflash of amusement showing in their eyes.

“hi.” you give them a shy wave and they return it with a welcoming smile, their hands gently shaking yours.

jake pulls sunghoon away, huddling on one side while whispering, their heads occasionally turning to you every now and then with synchronicity.

“what do you mean that’s her?”

“jake, pipe the fuck down!”

“are they… talking about me?” you turn to jay with raised eyebrows and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he's grown familiar to this scenario. “looks like it. please forgive jake. he’s normally more… discreet when he’s curious about someone.”

yeah, there’s nothing discreet about jake pointing his finger at you with a wide smile. sunghoon, on the other hand, is insistent on pushing jake's hand down with a pretty pink flush on his cheeks, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. very cute.

“do you guys share all your classes?”

“yeah, we share an apartment so we were together when we chose our classes.”

“so i’d take it that you guys are close?”

jay gives you a nod, eyes fond while he looks at his best friends. “met in middle school— and we’ve unfortunately been inseparable since then.”

“that's cute. must be nice to have people you can rely on already. college is kinda scary.”

“you have us!” jake whispers from beside you, making you scream in surprise at his sudden presence. sunghoon shoots him a sharp glare, tugging on your cardigan for the second time today to pull you by his side.

the golden retriever looking boy presses his palms together, whispering a small apology before handing you his phone.

“sunghoon told me you have afternoon classes with us! so you can give me your number and just reach us whenever. not to brag but i’m the most popular in this trio. i'll text you whenever there’s a party. i'll getcha connected to people in no time.” he adds with a wink, pulling a laugh out of you.

“i think i’ll stick to texting you for home work.” you reply with a roll of your eyes, punching your number in jake’s phone nonetheless.

a few more friendly words are exchanged before they wave you goodbye because jay and jake are going to your college’s basketball try-outs. sunghoon isn’t interested but is supposedly "required by law" to go because he’s their moral support.

you laugh and give both of them a fist bump for good luck before walking away, failing to catch sunghoon’s lingering stare as he watches your figure disappear.

that night, you buried yourself under your duvet, congratulating yourself for surviving your first day of freshman year and making three new friends on top of that.

just then, your phone vibrated.

💬 from: unknown number — this is sunghoon. :)

your friendship with park sunghoon slowly blossomed from that day onward. though your first meeting was full of chaos, the following months were anything but.

much like him, it was calm. respectful, even.

you would give each other a smile when you passed by one another in the mornings, he’d shoot you a text to let you know he reserved the seat next to him when you were running ten minutes late in the afternoon, or you'd remind him of tasks due the next day.

he even offer to accompany you to the university’s library when your friends weren't available, headphones on and only taking it off to tap on your shoulder when he notices you dozing off.

one day, you asked him to grab lunch with you under the pretense of not having anyone to eat with, and then it became routine.

usually it would be just you and sunghoon but the boys would tag along every now and then. he would be noisier during those lunches, and you relished it because that’s the only time you get to see him be so comfortable and rowdy.

you pondered what the cause could be, and eventually landed on a theory during one of your sociology classes.

deindividuation, as your professor called it.

she said being part of a larger group can lead to a sense of reduced personal responsibility and accountability which then causes individuals to feel less inhibited and more likely to engage in behaviors they might not otherwise, including speaking loudly or interrupting.

she basically described sunghoon to a perfect t.

because your friendship with him is quiet. his half of the friendship, to be specific.

you mostly got to know him through mere observation– his habits, things he enjoyed and things he disliked. if you didn’t discover things yourself, his friends would be the one offering sunghoon's information to you like when jay told you he has a younger sister he adored, or when jake told you that he once wanted to go to antarctica, a dream that he left behind after he took an interest in photography.

if you were to type out every word he's said to you for the entirety of your friendship in a continuous line, you’d probably be able to fill four pages of a document in arial 11. maybe five.

if you remember correctly, his longest running sentence is “please walk on the inside part of the sidewalk next time, angel— it’s dangerous.” a yet-to-be defeated record of fourteen words. it was also the first time he called you by a pet name and it had you screaming into your pillow as soon as you got home.

initially, you thought it’d be better to converse with him through text. and it was an improvement, yes– but only by a few notches. you’d be able to make twenty pages with the words he said through the phone, but there were still days where he’d just reply with one word.

or a single emoji.

but sunghoon isn’t nonchalant. far from it, actually.

he laughs at your jokes— he even giggles when it's done to his type of humor. if he sees you stressing out during a pop quiz, he’d slyly push his paper towards you to let you copy his answers. and he already knows to take his sweater off and hand it to you before history class because the heater doesn’t work well in that classroom.

almost always, he’d walk out of the classroom with his bag slung on one of his shoulders and yours on the other with the finesse of someone who's used to being reliable. you’ve never had to open your own water bottles or push through doors either because sunghoon would be the one doing it for you. all of that while wearing a proud smile.

and barely any noise.

when you ask him questions, he’d either hum to affirm, shake his head no, or shrug if he didn’t know the answer. if he’s the one asking you questions, he just gestures with his hands or fingers to get his message across.

one morning when you went to class in a new hairstyle, he pointed to it with raised brows. “ah, just wanted to try something new.” you explained. his reply was a smile and a measly thumbs up.

all that to say, he's an acts-of-service rather than a words-of-affirmation type of guy.

you always try to fill that awful silence between the both of you with endless rambles, and like the reliable person he is, he always listens with a hum here and there to let you know that he was still following your story about how your neighbor scared you shitless by trying to open your door in the middle of the night.

"—he shook the knob so hard i had to call an emergency locksmith. it’s literally the second time he did that this week! and he doesn’t even have the decency to pay me back for the fee!”

by the time you end your tirade, you’re slumped over the café’s table, cheeks squished flat on the smooth surface. he just chuckles and taps on your head with a finger and you raise it slightly. sunghoon places a sheet of tissue down and leans back, allowing you to press your face against the table again, but hygienically this time around.

“you care for my skin more than i do.” you grumble, blowing the stray hairs away from your face.

he does it like it’s routine— because it is.

the first time you did it, he shook his head in slight disappointment. “you’ll get acne.” he said, voice flat while pointing to his cheeks. so after months of it happening, he learned to always have tissues in his bag just in case you decided you wanted to have another ranting session.

a few minutes pass and you hear him groan before reaching over to show you his watch. two thirty-seven pm. “man. fuck history class.” you sigh, starting to pack up your things while sunghoon's already a few steps past the cafe door.

“hoonie, wait for me!” you whine, running to catch up and he pauses, looking at you over his shoulder.

he only resumes his strides when he hears the familiar taps of your footstep beside him, making him smile to himself as he shoves his hands in his pocket, walking back to class with the cold autumn wind that pushes leaves of gold and orange past his feet.

this is what he does. if he wanted to go somewhere, he’d guide you to the destination by walking instead of telling. sometimes, because you moved at the pace of a snail, he would need to tug on your shirt or on the end of your jacket to help you keep up.

he never actually touches you. not intentionally. the usual skinship he’d initiate is a tap on your shoulder, or on the back of your hand. if he was feeling extra touchy, the most he’d give is an affectionate pat to your head.

if you remember correctly, that has only happened seven times so far.

there was also that one time he touched your cheeks for a brief moment, but you don’t think that counts because he only did it to push your head away when jake jokingly leaned towards you with a kissy face.

“sunghoon!”

two heads turn around to see heeseung, a sophomore, approaching with a basketball pinned between his hand and hip. he’s a good friend of jake and jay, and by association, sunghoon’s.

“mind if i take him away for a bit?” heeseung asks you, the usual charming smile on his face as he taps on sunghoon’s shoulder. you nod and shoo them away, but not without sunghoon pointing to an empty bench first.

you head over there, one leg crossed over the other as you observe the bright smile on sunghoon’s face. words like “girls” and “after party” are thrown, and you already know it has something to do with the boys’ basketball match this weekend.

but their words translate more like faint buzzing because you’re too busy dwelling on the way sunghoon interacts with heeseung. it’s something that has been bothering you for a good while— the way he becomes much more animated when he talks to someone. the way sentences don’t sound strained leaving his mouth.

it’s like everyone has access to a button that activates talkative sunghoon.

everyone else but you.

the theory of deindividuation didn’t apply to him anymore. maybe it never did.

he wasn’t technically popular, no. he was still an introvert who preferred staying on the sidelines but from what you’ve seen, anyone who was brave enough to go up to him and make friends, he accepted without protest.

weren’t you already friends with him? so why can’t he be like that with you?

your mind reels back to the time you caught him talking to a senior on the way to your next class. they were having a conversation about the cameras he liked and his history with photography, and it made you wonder for a second whether he had an identical twin his friends forgot to tell you about. you could hear the childlike fascination as he talked, voice practically dripping with enthusiasm.

so when you asked him about cameras later that same day and all you got was a simple 'i like them', it simply broke your heart.

you've spent days thinking about why he couldn’t open up to you the same way he did with others. you’d scroll through your texts with sunghoon and it's always polite. always curt. always “how’s your weekend?” but when you ask him the same question, he’d reply with “just okay.” before turning the conversation to something about you again.

maybe he wasn’t interested in you. not in that way, at least. because why would he? he, who would make people stare whenever you walked the hallways together. he, who made every student in class stop whatever they were doing just to listen to him whenever he recited.

he, who hugged acquaintances yet can’t seem to stand the thought of his hand grazing you, his friend.

it made you overthink whether you truly were a friend to him or just another overzealous classmate forcing your unwanted presence.

you don’t even realize you’ve started tearing up until you see sunghoon kneeling in front of you, eyes full of worry as he looks into your glassy ones.

“angel? w-what’s wrong?” he asks, a hand reaching up but he bites his lips and brings it back down to his side.

you turn your head to the side and force out a laugh. “where’s heeseung?”

“he left. tell me what’s wrong.” he says, placing a hand on your knee. he doesn’t need to tell you, because you could tell how uncomfortable he was from initiating that simple touch.

“it’s nothing. just… i think some dust got into my eyes.” you rub your eyes with your curled fist, exaggerating a few blinks before you gently push his hand off your knee. not even a second passes and you already miss the warmth of his touch. it's pathetic.

“there. it’s gone now.” you hum, pulling him up by his bag’s strap. “let’s go? mr. shin will kill us if we’re late.”

he looks like he wants to say something. but he doesn’t.

he never does.

instead, he strips off his white hoodie and hands it to you, looking at you with expectant eyes. he just stands there, your bag in his hand with the same expression until you relent and throw his hoodie over your head while rolling your eyes.

you walk to your history class warm and smelling like a pleasant mix of sunghoon’s cologne and laundry detergent.

your exit plan hasn’t even started yet and you’re already failing.

three weeks.

three cruel and agonizing weeks of sunghoon missing your presence.

he thinks it started that weekend. like heeseung suggested, he texted you an invite to the frat party to celebrate the boys’ win. he never really got a reply but he did see you arrive safely which put him a little more at ease.

you greeted him with a breathtaking smile and the same little wave he started looking forward to receiving everyday— his biggest motivator to attend and do well in class despite the hell that it is.

you wore a short ivory white dress, blessing him with far more skin than he usually saw within the confines of yours classrooms, your hair done up to show the smooth curves of your neck and the sharp angle of your shoulders.

all he could think about is dirtying your exposed skin with marks so the annoying boys in your class would get the hint to stay away from what's his, and he hated it. you don't even know it but you make something deeply covetous stir inside him.

you’re already beautiful in his eyes, but that night you truly looked like an angel, and he wanted nothing more than to kneel and follow you towards the light.

jiwon and gaeul snapped him out of his trance by dragging you away to the other side of the house before he can even get a word in, and all sunghoon could do is pray that you don't leave with someone else.

the after party went on. drunk people leaning against the kitchen counter, a random couple sucking each others’ faces off on the recliner by the entrance, and jay crying “foul” when he lost another round of beer pong. for the sixth time.

sunghoon looked at his phone, brows almost meeting together as he stared at your conversation. still left on read, still no reply, but he decided to send you another one anyway.

💬 to: angel y/n. — your dress looks nice. :)

“why’s my y/n-ie not here?” jake approached him, red solo cup in hand.

“first of all: she’s not yours. second: you’re already slurring your words, jaeyun. sober up before we get to the car, i beg. i don’t want my car to smell like vomit again.” sunghoon grunted, trying to push the boy off as jake leaned against him for support, face pressed on his shoulder while whining about how much he wanted to see you.

“why? you gonna try to kiss her again?”

“if it’ll annoy you. like it always does.” jake snaps back, a drunken smirk on his face.

sunghoon rolled his eyes, taking jake’s cup and pushing him with enough force to make him land on the couch.

“you didn’t even get to kiss her sober. what makes you think your wasted ass can do it this time?” the laugh he let out is light, yet traced with a bit of venom.

looking at jake all sprawled out on the couch and giggling like a man without a care in the world made sunghoon sneer. even thinking about that memory makes him want to knock jake out. but he knows his best friend’s teasing is only done to get a reaction out of him, to press on a particularly sensitive bruise— the bruise being his feelings for you.

“hoon!” he turned, seeing jay from the kitchen pointing to a girl. he approached them with ease, flashing the stranger a smile. “he’s my friend who wanted to get something done.” jay said, charming as ever, palm pointed to sunghoon.

“this is the minha, the artist i told you about. let me know when you guys agree on something, yeah?” he pat both their backs and made his exit, probably to tend to jake who was wasted and still trying to dance.

the girl turned to him with a gasp, excitedly showing the jewelry on her hand and fingers. they talked about the bracelet he wanted to be made, noting colors he did and didn’t want to include, even passionately showing her reference pictures.

in the middle of his conversation, he raised his head to look for jay but caught you instead, unreadable eyes moving from him to his new-found friend. he took a step back from her and one towards you but you vehemently shook your head, raising a hand to make him stay in place.

you gave him a smile, one that looked a little forced, a little too disingenuous and foreign in a kind face like yours.

you mouthed ‘i’m heading home', thumb pointing to the door before waving goodbye. “wait. i— i’ll be back.” he says to minha, running and pushing his way through the crowd of bodies. when he stepped out of the front door, gaeul's car had already sped off, leaving nothing behind but a cloud of dust.

💬 to: angel y/n. — i didn’t get to say goodbye. :(

the three bubbles popped up on his screen. after a few minutes of watching it appear and disappear, you replied.

💬 from: angel y/n. — it’s okay, sunghoon. enjoy the party! 👍

and so ensued the twenty one days of sunghoon’s torture.

the absence wasn’t loud. it wasn’t immediate. it was a gradual pull, like flowers in a vase slowly losing their petals and vibrant color to their unnatural environment.

you were gone, but not entirely.

though a part of him thinks it would have been more merciful if you just left outright, because the moment he starts noticing things, it’s like he can’t stop. it's the type of cruelty only you could do to him.

you didn’t sit beside him anymore, opting to return to your previous spot behind him during classes. no more loud cheering by his side when he attended the boys’ basketball practices after class. and just to rub salt to his open wound, you made gaeul and jiwon replace him in your usual lunch spot.

that was the final straw— the thing that let him knew he somehow, some way, truly fucked up.

now he can’t even use classes as an excuse to see you because of course, of course, it had to happen right before the holiday break. not only was there an emotional distance, but a physical one, too. he can’t text you either— not without looking stupid or desperate. the last message he sent read “okay. good night, y/n.” which was a reply to your dry “i think i'll sleep, sunghoon. night! :)”

no more lunches, no more affectionate reminders of homework deadlines, and no more nicknames. things changed. and the shift, though unnoticeable to others, was strong enough for his best friends to speak up.

“i swear to god if you sigh one more time, i’ll actually mix bleach in your coffee to put you out of whatever misery you’re in.” jay grunts, throwing the couch pillow to sunghoon, unfazed and still busy fiddling with his phone despite getting hit square on his arm.

jake takes a peek from behind the couch, a plate of their shared dinner in hand, laughing as he sees sunghoon pathetically typing and deleting different variations of 'how was your day?' into his phone without actually sending anything.

“is our y/n-ie still not talking to you?” he teases, moving to the sit on the floor, right between his best friend’s legs. the nickname rolling off jake's tongue makes sunghoon's brow twitch in irritation.

“still? i thought they were okay? didn’t she visit us during a game?”

sunghoon’s head snaps up to look at jay. “she did?”

they nod. “the one we did before break.”

“without me?” he says this time, voice pitched up in disbelief.

they give him another nod.

“said she just wanted to drop by and watch us. sat with a long-haired blonde guy.” jay mumbles, giving him a shrug.

“yeah. he seemed awfully close to her if you ask me. arm around her everything. i’m surprised they weren’t making out.” jake adds, making the other laugh as he creates horrible slurping sounds with arms wrapped around himself.

sunghoon takes the pillow from earlier and smashes it across the side of jake’s head. “you’re disgusting.” he huffs, storming to his room, feeling his heart drop lower and lower with each stomp of his feet.

he hears nothing but static, clouded eyes burning holes on the framed photo atop his bedside table: a candid shot he took using his favorite film camera of you laughing so brightly that your eyes turned into crescents.

the mere thought of someone else seeing you in that light has dinner rushing back out his mouth.

you’ve made peace with your friendship with sunghoon.

you've long accepted that it won’t turn into anything more. at some point, you were able to tune out the girls that hang around him, not caring whether they'd confess. he rejected every single one of them anyway, and you know you wouldn't be any different than those pretty crying faces if you tried.

you only cared when people approached him to have a friendly conversation because sunghoon would happily give them a memorable one. that's what made you jealous.

hell, he even got your friends. gaeul mentioned natto once and sunghoon yapped about the delicacy like a day-one fan. he shared his favorite fashion brands with jiwon too– complete with a detailed explanation on his preferences and favorite collections.

granted, he wasn’t on the best terms with them right now because they were the ones who had to pick up the pieces of your heart when you started crying halfway through the drive back to your apartment after that cursed party.

you stood there long enough to see him laugh and giggle in amazement at whatever amazing thing the amazing girl was showing him on her phone, stood long enough to see how casually he held her hand and raised it to his face to look at her accessories. your eyes read his lips, 'you’re so cool', right before he saw you.

gaeul held you in her arms as soon as you curled up in your bed, jiwon on the other side shushing you while stroking your head. “i just— i don’t get it.” you grunted, brashly wiping your wet cheeks with the back of your hand, the mascara-stained tears staining your bedsheets as they dropped freely.

“why he’s– why doesn't he doesn’t talk to me like that? but.. he looks at me like he likes me and— and he does things for me he doesn’t do with other people!”

you were inconsolable, hiccuping in between sobs and screaming more words that your friends don’t understand anymore because you’re crying too much. they just exchanged tired looks while rubbing on your arm until you were exhausted enough to sleep.

the morning after, while pressing frozen spoons on your swollen eyelids, you were determined to treat him as he did you— sweet and kind, but from a safe distance. close enough to keep your friendship with him together, but far enough so you wouldn’t have to feel your heart get stomped on when you hear him ramble about his passions to someone else.

he still attempted to ask about you through texts, tried to talk about the weather, or your progress on a project. he never brought up the topic of this weird drift in your relationship and neither did you.

at first, you replied within the same hour, then the same day, then after three days and so on.

ignoring him became easier when you went back home because you couldn’t see him, couldn't feel the hairs on your nape stand straight whenever his inspecting gaze was stuck on you. you could put your notifications on mute and pretend you fell asleep when he shoots you another text to ask what's keeping you so busy.

half-way through the holiday, the ringtone you set specifically for sunghoon stopped ringing and you knew he stopped trying to reach you.

were you sad? were you relieved? you didn't know.

but what you do know is that you have to keep up this act. so even after the second semester started, you diligently stuck to your new routine. nods in the hallway, civil hi’s and ‘hello’s in the classroom, hoping and praying that your feelings would slip away the same way you were slipping from him.

you marked today’s date with another x — thirty six days since the rift, twenty nine days since the texts stopped.

ten days since random letters started appearing.

you didn’t think he was trying to hide it. and if he did, he was doing a shit job because you were able to recognize his penmanship with just a glance— sunghoon had an odd way of writing the letter y, after all. a different kind of neat with a little flick at the end.

some days, the letters would be slipped in through your locker, and on busier days, it would be on your desk accompanied with food. the drinks varied, but the pastry stayed the same. an almond croissant from your favorite café— the one you used to hangout with him.

“i don’t know what i did, but i hope you know i’m sorry.”

that’s the first letter he wrote. written in a plain piece of yellow pad, contrasting the way it’s elegantly wrapped — in an ivory envelope with a small heart sticker sealing it. you made your friends read it, too. and gaeul cackled loudly, teasing you for immediately turning soft and wanting to run back into sunghoon's arms.

“you’re seriously folding as quick as he folded that half-assed letter.” she said in amusement, chopsticks roughly poking through the seaweed roll on jiwon’s lunch box. the blonde just rubbed your shoulder in understanding, shooting the older girl a glare. “don’t blame our y/n! she’s just a girl in love.”

"hopeless romantics, the two of you." the other girl replied with a shake of her head.

since that day, the letters have improved. still in the same off-white envelope, the same red heart-shaped sticker. the content was different each time, but they made your heart race all the same.

“your hoodie today looks comfortable. i hope you’re staying warm.” “i’ve been thinking about how you're the only one that who understands me even when i don’t say a lot. i'm grateful for that.” “i saw you crying today behind the bleachers. you said it was just from a yawn. it must have hurt a lot if you couldn’t tell anyone. next time you want to yawn again, just call for me, okay?” “i look at you a lot, but i think of you even more. what do i do with you?”

you push the small calendar inside your locker and sigh softly as you peel the heart sticker off, eyes reading through today’s letter.

“it was drizzling today and i felt so much more sullen. it made me realize how much i keep searching for the voice, the presence that made everyday brighter. i miss you, y/n.”

you hate how your first instinct is to look around. to check if you’ll see the same annoyingly handsome, glasses-wearing face that’s been haunting you for the past month. but of course, he isn’t there. so you fold the letter again.

another one added to the collection of the letters that you keep safely in your room so you can read it again later tonight.

away from the crowd of students flocking to their lockers, sunghoon stands with a soft smile on his face as he watches you slip the envelope in your bag. when you close the metal door shut, he takes it as a sign to walk back to jay and jake, hands in his pocket, grinning in victory.

“she didn’t throw your corny letter away this time?” jake howls and sunghoon’s smug expression falls into one of panic, making him smack the boy in the back of his head.

“she never did, idiot. and keep your voice down.”

jay raises his eyebrow. “i don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her. surely it’s easier to just do that rather than… writing all this extra shit every night. who are you? shakespeare?”

sunghoon just sighs and shakes his head, his thumb reaching up to scratch his adam’s apple. “you don’t understand, and pray that you never do. because this shit? it ain’t easy.”

too much projects still left in your to-do list, too many passive-aggressive comments from useless group mates that you chose to ignore for the sake of keeping the peace, and one-too-many snide remark from a stranger in the women’s bathroom about how ‘interesting’ your shoes are.

needless to say, it's been a rough week.

most of the students have gone home by now. your girlfriends bid you goodbye an hour ago and you stayed behind, opting to work on your essay in an empty classroom because your head wouldn't work if tried to finish it at home. the fact that you'd have a meaningful rest tomorrow gave you the last push you needed to press submit.

tired footsteps echo down the empty hallway as you use your remaining energy to trudge towards your locker. it opens with a bleary rattle and you find a square box laid atop an envelope.

it’s been a while since sunghoon left you one.

you push the heavy books inside before reaching for the black suede box, the fuzzy material tickling your fingertip as you push the top open.

inside, a bracelet. fine silver chains alternating with four round glass beads– pink and green blooming from the center like ink dropped in still water. a flat silver rectangle hangs in the center with the corners of it smoothly rounded out, and embellished with detailed carvings of flowers around the edges. on the back, an engraving of your name.

why would he do this?

you carefully return the bracelet inside its case and reach for the envelope with pursed lips. you close your eyes and let out a shaky exhale.

you need to prepare yourself for what you're about to read. if this one's as sweet as his past letters, your resolve— the tiny amount left of it —wouldn't be able to hold you back, especially considering how worn out you are.

"you must have been having a hard time lately— the y/n who’s precious to sunghoon. i hope we can talk again because i want you to tell me that today was tough. i want to be the one you lean on— and the one who tells you that you’re doing a good job regardless. i know you’ve been suffering through a lot, and i want you to know that i’m here.”

the corner of the paper crumples in your tightening fist as you tilt your head up to keep your tears from smudging more of the black ink. you stand in place, trying your best to control your breathing, teeth biting down on your chapped lips as your eyes run over the last words.

“you’ve worked hard, angel. i'm proud of you.”

your shaky hands close the locker door, forehead leaning against it as you hold the letter close to your chest, quietly sniffling with your head hung low, hot tears falling directly on the dirty tiles. “he saw me. he always sees me.” you whisper to yourself, shoulders shaking as your pained cries begin to overtake your body.

there's a faint warmth radiating on your back and your nose picks up notes of sandalwood and leather cutting through the sterile scent of alcohol mixed with floor cleaners.

sunghoon.

he towers over you, body trapped in between his and the cool metal of the lockers as if to hide you from invisible prying eyes. his sturdy arms flip you around, one hand moving to your head to carefully guide it towards his chest, and the other wrapping around you to give your back gentle soothing pats.

as always, he doesn’t say anything. just wraps you in his arms while his fingers comb through the ends of your hair.

the two of you stand there until your loud cries are replaced with small hiccups.

there's a small, shameful whine that leaves your lips when sunghoon pulls away from the hug, but he leans in again, long legs slightly folding to match your height until his face is just a couple of inches away from yours. behind the thick black glasses, his dark orbs gaze into you with worry written all over his face.

you can’t help but feel irritated at how good he looks despite the cheap fluorescent lights hanging overhead.

still as handsome as the first day you saw him— just a little rugged this time around. he looks tired. frazzled. perhaps just as exhausted as you. the dilated vessels turned the whites of his eyes pink, and there’s a faint blue tint on his under eyes that make him look like he’s been losing sleep.

a selfish part of you hopes you’re the reason for it.

“i wanted to comfort you, and yet i still managed to make you cry.” he says with a sad smile, both hands cupping your cheek while his thumb brushed away the tears clinging to your lashes. “i’m sorry, angel.” he whispers before hugging you again, making you sigh in comfort.

you missed hearing that nickname. you missed his voice, his face, his scent, even his stupid glasses.

you just missed sunghoon in general.

the days you stayed apart drove him crazy too. it gave him the courage to hug you tighter, foregoing his fears and anxieties as he squeezes you in his arms. “i missed you. i think i still do, even now.” he whispers, lips brushing on the crown of your head.

sunghoon held your wrist as he walked outside your department's building to an empty bench.

the pink and peach tones in the sky have disappeared, replaced by the artificial neon orange from the street lamps. the trees are starting to grow their leaves back too, but the cool breeze still nipped at your skin like leftover air from winter trying to leave.

it was cold, but not painful nor unbearable. just enough to keep you alert, aware of how warm your side is from how close sunghoon is sitting beside you. aware of how he made more room by throwing an arm behind and casually resting it on the bench’s backrest so he could cuddle closer.

it feels like whiplash, the way he can’t keep himself from playing with your fingers when a month and a half ago, his obvious choice would be to hold the ends of your shirt like touching your skin would burn him.

and it does. it still does.

but who could blame sunghoon? he was an addicted man who got a taste of your touch and firmly decided he’d rather get simultaneously run over, stabbed multiple times, and be set on fire than spend another moment without him holding you or vice versa. kick him too while you’re at it.

he doesn’t care as long as he can feel you.

“i’m sorry.” he says again, voice as gentle as the way he’s squeezing your index fingers’ knuckles, both pairs of eyes looking at everything else but each other.

you let out a bemused laugh. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

he's stays mum, tongue running across his lower lip and you catch the faint pink color tinting the shell of his ears.

“i don’t. b-but… i do know that whatever i did was enough to push you away from me." he says eventually. "i hope you know it was never intentional. i— i wouldn’t ever ever do anything to hurt you. i understand if you don’t want to tell me what... wrong i did, but i can promise that if you do, i’ll do my best not to do it again.”

his shy mumbles contrast the way he bravely pushes his fingers between yours, the now-interlocked hands resting on his thigh moving up and down as he anxiously bounces his leg.

laughter shatters the solemn atmosphere, causing his head to snap to its source, the evident frown on his face growing deeper. “are you— did you just laugh at my apology?” sunghoon asks with an incredulous expression, making you laugh even harder. still, he can’t help his lips from quirking up at the sight.

he likes this. he likes holding your hand and hearing you laugh.

“it’s just— 'm sorry.” you pause, trying to swallow down another fit of giggles trying to burst out. “i just think it’s funny. that’s a new record.”

“what record?”

“the record of most words you’ve said to me at once. the previous one’s fourteen words, i think.”

sunghoon stares, head tilted to one side in confusion.

“think about it, sunghoon. classes and group lunches aside, you’ve never actually spoken to me properly. it’s never a conversation, it’s almost always just single words.” you let go of his hand only to lay yours on top of his and giving it a couple taps. “or stuff like this.”

“—it’s like... like you have a word limit. but only when it comes to me.”

the muscle on his jaw twitches as he sees the little smile on your visage falter, the slight crack in your voice mirroring the one growing in his heart. he wants to object, to defend himself but he knows he wouldn’t have anything proper to say.

“at first i thought it was just because you were shy— but i’ve seen the way you talk to your friends, to my friends.. everyone. everyone loved talking to you, and you seemed to have fun talking with them too. i just don't get why you treat me so different."

sunghoon's hand grips on his own thigh to execute a punishment upon himself. until it hurts, until it stings. but he bears it because he knows it's too light compared to the hurt you've had to silently carry throughout your time with him.

"it sucks that you don’t like me enough to share your hobbies with me, sunghoon. that i have to know you through our mutual friends rather than getting to know you from what you say to me. i—” a pause. “i just gave up because i knew i’m not worth your time, or your effort to speak. that's why i stayed away.”

“y/n… angel, it’s— it’s not like that. i swear.” he cups your cheek to make you look at him. you were still smiling, and yet he saw the sadness in your eyes. the uncertainty.

he hates himself for being the cause of it.

“then what is it, sunghoon? why don’t you talk to me?”

“because—” sunghoon takes a deep inhale and purses his lips before finally confessing. “because i don’t know how to.”

just as the weight is lifted from his shoulders, he feels an even heavier one get dropped back down. he knows there’s no going back. not when you’re looking at him with dissatisfaction in your eyes.

“there’s a reason why i resorted to writing letters instead, y/n. it’s just that… just— y-you— i’m— fuck!” exasperated, he pulls his hand away from you, using it to rub on his temples instead.

then one travels down and you see as his fingers starts to scratch the base of his neck, nails digging deep into his skin.

it's one of sunghoon’s habits you’ve noted— an ugly one. the first few times it happened, you tried to talk him out of it, told him how scared you were that he’d hurt himself, but he told you it was to help ground him when he feels frustrated.

like the stubborn man that he is, sunghoon continues to scratch harder and harder, half of his face scrunched up irritation. and true to your fear, he lets out a wince when a thin red gash on the space between his collarbones started to bleed red.

“sunghoon, stop.” you sigh, his wrists tightly trapped in your hold.

when he turns his head to look at you, he looks like his world has collapsed in itself. he's devastated. broken.

“i.. i want to explain. i swear, i just—” he closes his eyes tight, hands curling into tight fists under your hold as his chest puffs from how heavy he's breathing. you gently pry each finger open to see deep crescents on his palms. a frown is etched on your lips at the sight, and you know sunghoon’s not faring any better with the way he slumps against you, head rested on your shoulder.

“they won’t come out..” he finally says after prolonged silence, his voice thin and raspy.

“what won’t, hoon?”

“... nothing. please let me—” his breaths are trembling, and though you don’t see it, you could feel him holding back from scratching at his neck again.

“whatever it is can wait. just.. don’t. don't do that again.” you mumble, letting go of one of his hands so you could wrap your arms around his shoulder, your palm running up and down his tensed arm while he messily wipes the bleeding scar with his sleeve.

he waits until his breathing turns even before he speaks again.

“are you.. doing anything tomorrow, angel?”

“hm. no. why?”

“i… missed you. it’s been so long since i last talked to you.”

“that’s weird. i clearly remember that i was the only one doing all the talking.” you reply with a nudge to his shoulder, hoping your teasing voice is enough to lighten the atmosphere.

“hey! don’t be a smart-ass. you know what i mean. it’s been.. what? like, forty one? maybe forty two days since we hung out properly.”

you lean away from his side.

“you’ve been counting too?”

“too? so you also did it?” he raises his brow, the previous frown growing into a teasing smile as soon as he sees your expression, like you're glitching between the choice of fight or flight.

“would you look at that. seems like the misery over winter break was mutual.” he says, tone a little too proud for your liking, so you choose fight. you take the soft skin of his cheeks in between your fingers, pinching and stretching it with a whiny sunghoon trying to push your hand away.

you succumb to his pained pleads to stop.

you lean in closer to soothe the skin with your thumb while laughing under your breath and sunghoon’s eyes slowly flutter close at the touch, head tilting closer to your hand as if to encourage you to continue.

“this is nice.” he whispers, raising his hand and laying it on top of yours to keep it there.

you want to ask him what stopped him from asking for your touch because it wouldn't even take a heartbeat for you to say yes. you wanted to know why you weren’t given the privilege of seeing him this needy, this vulnerable and bare. yet you kept your mouth shut.

“the university is a place for learning, kids. not dating.”

the sweet little moment is interrupted by an older man, a security guard, pointing his plastic baton at the two of you. “and it doesn’t look like you’re in grad school either, which means you’re not allowed to loiter in university grounds.” he adds, making sunghoon stand straight, head tilted forward to give him an apologetic bow.

“we’re sorry, sir! w-we didn’t notice the time. we’ll be heading home. i promise.” his taller body instinctively steps once to the side, covering you like shield.

the guard tilts his head, brows raised at the odd couple in front of him but his eyes soften as soon he sees the dopey smile on sunghoon’s face when his hands blindly reach out behind him in search of yours. “i better not catch you staying here after-hours again, alright? now go. scram!”

sunghoon turns around and smoothly slings your bag over his other shoulder like he always used to, your hand held firmly in his as the both of you run to the exit gates giggling like children.

“girls. he just texted me. said he’ll pick me up in an hour.”

you set your phone screen-down on your vanity. jiwon’s behind you, scrolling through pinterest in search for a proper hairstyle inspo and gaeul’s lying on her stomach on top of your bed, busily typing away as she tries to cram her essay.

thank god you had the foresight to finish it yesterday because one, that meant you got to reunite with sunghoon— who apparently waited for you by the lockers that day —and two, because he was serious about hanging out today.

he double, no, triple checked that you actually wanted to go with him while he walked you to the bus stop, refusing to let go of your hand until you safely got in.

“i can’t believe that doofus finally got the courage to ask you out. we were wondering how long he’d take.” gaeul chirps up, fingers still busy tapping on her keyboard.

“finally? what do you mean finally? and what you do mean we?” your hands pause from applying your blush, head craning towards your bed to stare at your dear friend who just stares back with a straight face.

“oh, y/n. don’t be dumb."

"i'm serious!"

"jake and jay? us? we’ve all seen it since we started hanging out. you’re the only one who gets mister congeniality all nervous and speechless. now look in the mirror before i accidentally burn your cheek.” jiwon says, carefully taking your curling wand and a section of your hair.

“it’s so cute, it’s almost pathetic. but i’m still mad at him for making you cry like that, you know. he better make it up to you today, or else i’m gonna drag his stupid ass through the school field. by his ears.” gaeul says with a face that let you know she intends to follow up on her words.

jiwon continues to hum whilst curling your hair and you try your best to keep your hands from shaking as you apply your gloss.

when you look in the mirror, you can't help but ponder how much your body knew you needed sunghoon because you’re glowing. you look well-rested despite only catching three hours of sleep because of how badly you anticipated this date.

meanwhile sunghoon, alone in his car, is practically vibrating in excitement. or nervousness. he doesn’t know, really. he thinks he stopped being able to differentiate which feeling is which since he saw you that day.

he spent those thirty minutes routinely checking his rearview mirror: is something stuck between the gaps of his teeth? he flossed again just in case. is his hair styled correctly? didn't prevent him from running his fingers through it a few more times. should he put on his coat or would that look too much? fuck, what if he over dressed and you think he’s cringe?

god, he wasn't even this jittery with his exes.

it's different because he's never actually hung out with you without the excuse of classes or other university-related events. it's different because he's never actually seen you outside the usual café you spend free periods in or under the flashing strobes of the college frat house.

it's different because it's his first date with you, and he's adamant not to make this the last.

ding.

💬 from: my angel. — hoonieeeeee ! i’m almost done. :D

he glanced at his watch.

fifteen minutes left.

enough time for him to drive once around your block, get out of the car, walk to the passenger’s side and coolly lean against it while pretending he wasn’t an inch away from having a mental breakdown a few moments earlier.

and when sunghoon finally sees you walk out in a satin dress, he’s convinced he might actually have one.

“hey there, big guy. you look handsome today. well.. you always do. but today especially! i really like your fit!” you say, adorning that bright smile that sunghoon found so captivating.

the plan to look cool immediately got crushed.

he tried to stand up straight, he did. but he ended up leaning again on his car— not to look charismatic. rather, he needed to, because he was barely feeling his knees. his heart was racing, his breathing turned short, and he began feeling the all-too-familiar prickling sensation in his throat.

“don’t go quiet on me again, or i’ll ignore you. forever this time.”

he looks more made-up, different from the usual hoodie and jeans combo you always saw. still knee-buckling attractive, but clean. khaki trousers adorning his long legs, thin black belt around his hips and a loose blue-colored polo with thin stripes, the sleeves folded to accentuate his forearms.

there’s a small sense of satisfaction that comes to you when you realize your outfits make you look like a couple. it seems gaeul made the lucky choice of getting you to wear a baby blue today, but you’ll just thank her for that later.

“your hair’s.. n-nice.” sunghoon says, a bashful smile growing on his face. “o-oh! and– and i have this!” he opens the rear door of his car, and you hear it slam again before he turns around to present you with a bouquet of flowers.

white petals with vivid yellow blooming from the center, wrapped in crumpled iridescent foil and pastel blue paper.

“daffodils. the lady at the flower shop said it symbolizes new beginnings. and— a-and i want that. a new beginning. with you.” he stammers awkwardly, nibbling on his lower lip as his hands push the bouquet towards you.

you can only coo at his words, fawning over how cute and small he looked right now despite his height. so fucking adorable, this one.

pushing past the bouquet, your arms find purchase around his torso and you squeeze him in your arms. it takes him a second to return it and you feel him release a sigh, one done out of relief and longing, before leaving a gentle kiss on your hair as he lets you go.

sunghoon opens the passenger seat of his car for you with his signature shy smile, tipping his head to the side.

“get in, angel. i have a lot of making up to do.”

he takes you driving around first, wanting to spend a little more time together with you in the privacy of his car before he shares you with other people. one hand on the wheel and the other keeping yours warm, he aimlessly drove around while narrating how he spent his winter break with his family.

his dad took him and his two honorary siblings, jay and jake, to a skiing resort. his mom bought him a new camera as his holiday present, and he casually slipped in wanting to test it out next time with you.

in between those stories, sunghoon admitted that his younger sister was the one to suggest the idea of leaving you letters. the confession leaves his lips in between sheepish laughter, resulting in both your cheeks turning pink.

your heart felt full listening him be so engrossed in his stories, at one point even letting go of the steering wheel to imitate how jake wobbled in his snowboard. sure he still stuttered every now and then, still held himself back from cussing too much on the off chance you’d get turned off, but those are tiny details you’re determined to work through with him.

he asked about you too, and you talked about the boring train ride back to your old little town, how the place looked like it was frozen in time with the same faces, same remarks about how you look like a carbon copy of your mom. sunghoon just listens intently, a smile on his face as he steals glances of your face from time to time.

you also talked about how you spent a week trying to get dye stains off your hands when your older brother painstakingly made you dye his blonde hair to black in preparation for the new season.

sunghoon’s hand tighten around yours. blonde.

“what about.. uh.. dates? did you go out with anyone while we weren’t in contact with each other?”

“hm. not that i recall? there were a few boys in my town, but i know they’re just messing with me.”

sunghoon’s right hand leaves yours to grip on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white and lips turning into a straight line as he stares at the road ahead.

perhaps he’d been mistaken. maybe this is just how you get when you’ve grown closer to someone. maybe the hand holding or the comforting touches you gave him were ones you also gave to other people. maybe you had taken his invitation as a hang out rather than a date and that’s why you agreed despite having someone else waiting on you.

“the boys saw him, you know. if— if you’re still talking to him then… t-then what are we doing right now?”

the change in his tone isn’t lost on you, nor the hardened expression he wears. from the side of his eye, he catches the befuddled look on your face like you genuinely cannot remember the accusation being true.

“him? who? i— hoon, what are you talking about?”

the mere memory of his friends’ words, of that man, urges sunghoon to pull over to the side of the road so he can face you because when call him an presumptuous loser and friend-zone him, he at least wants to see your pretty face do it.

“jay said he saw you come to their game with a guy. long hair. blonde. said he was clinging on you like a damn shirt.”

when you laughed at his confession yesterday, he’ll admit he found it cute. but when you do it today, it does nothing else but make his scowl look more sour.

“is this little laughing-at-sunghoon thing a habit you’ve developed over winter break? because this isn’t funny to me.” he glowers, brows furrowing as your laughter increases in pitch, palms repeatedly slapping against your knee.

“you—” your fingers point to him with a snicker, face looking pained as you try your darndest to hold back a laugh but it comes out anyway.

sunghoon crosses his arms over his chest, thick eyebrow cocked up while gazing at you with an unamused expression. “y/n. i’m serious. if you have a guy back home, you can tell me. it’ll break my heart, yes, but i don’t want to take part in whatever open relationship you guys hav—”

“sunghoon, that was my brother.”

“what?”

“tall guy. long hair. blonde. my brother.”

“that was... jeonghan hyung?”

“yes, dummy. jeonghan just wanted to take see at how the basketball team was keeping up now after he graduated. he’s an alumni, remember? you know he had blonde hair. you even hogged my phone all to yourself when he facetimed me that one time.”

it’s your turn to have your arms folded on your chest, tilting your head with a little sass, lips curled in a smirk. wordlessly, his body snaps to the front and he attempts to start the engine again, but you clutch his wrist just in time.

“no— you can’t just say that and ditch the conversation. you’re gonna explain yourself right now, park sunghoon.”

the sound of his full name said in such a stern voice makes him squirm in his seat.

“i– i was jealous, okay? what more do you want me to say?” he grumbles, looking out the window while weakly attempting to shake your hold off of him, letting out a grunt that barely sounds like your name as you refuse to back down.

he sighs in defeat, and you can see the sharp tic of his jaw tensing up.

“you weren’t talking to me. barely even looked my way. of course i was worried when my friends started talking about how you went to their practice without me. with a new guy, at that. it just.. the thought didn’t make me feel good. c-can we leave it now? this is embarrassing.”

a satisfied smile pushes your cheekbones up as you turn the keys, giving his shoulder a pat.

“drive, big guy.”

sunghoon made a reservation for the restaurant you mentioned months ago in passing. it’s nothing upscale or expensive. no wines or steaks. just the regular korean food you’re used to, but elevated just a little bit to make it taste more contemporary rather than home-made.

but you didn’t really care for that. the sole reason you wanted to go was their aesthetic: the dining area looked like the inside of a greenhouse with its sunroof ceiling, leaves and flowers hanging from wooden beams, and the lighting was just warm enough to set the ambience.

a hand on the small of your back courteously guided you towards your seat, and you’re too enamored by the interior to notice sunghoon staring at you with eyes full of admiration, his elbow resting on the table so he could comfortably continue to look at you in silence while you take in every detail of your surroundings.

true to his words, sunghoon makes up for his shortcomings.

he refills your drinks, debones the meat for you, constantly fills your plate before your food even runs out, and he apparently even paid for the meal in advance.

throughout the meal, sunghoon indulges you in short stories, letting you take on the role of the listener rather than the yapper this time around. he's telling you about penguins in antarctica and you hum, taking a sip of your drink when you notice one tiny, yet very clear difference in him today.

he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

you know he has a collection of them, and he switches things up every now and then. from thick boxy clear glasses, to the trendy ones you’ve seen models rock on social media.

your favorite pair would have to be the rimless silver ones he wore during your department’s post-exam party because they make him look unreal— like a real-life manhwa character. but he usually wore the good ol’ reliable thick black ones to lectures.

the glasses had their charm but without them, he’s a different kind of handsome. his features look sharper, especially with the warm lighting casting shadows from his tall, unobstructed nose bridge. his eyes look clearer and more expressive too.

on the side of his chin, a tiny mole. and then another one. black dots mapped out across his fair skin, all varying in size and but your eyes lock on the distinct one under his eye, and one on the side of his nose, right below where his glasses’ nose pad would sit.

no wonder you didn’t see it.

“you’re checking me out? so blatantly?” sunghoon pipes up, and you notice how the mole under his eye moves when he raises an eyebrow at you. it makes you giggle, reaching forward to poking the round dot under his eye.

“i didn’t know you had moles.” you mumble, rubbing on the skin with extra gentleness before leaning back. “kind of reminds me of someone i met when i was a kid.”

“hm? do tell.”

“ah, it’s nothing. there used to be this kid in my hometown who had moles like yours. god, that was years ago. i was really young— around eight or nine years old, i think. i met him at a playground where older boys were making fun of him for it.”

“let me guess. you defended him from the big bad bullies and he fell in love with you?”

“defended him, yeah. jesus, they were assholes. the memory is hazy, but i tried to comfort him by chasing him around and stuff. i tried to go back to the playground again the next day after my classes, but he never came back.” you poke at your left overs with your fork, the distant memory making a grin dance on your lips.

“but falling in love? highly doubt it. told him my name but i never got his back. all i remember's his cute moles. he might as well have been an imaginary friend.”

“i say defending a kid like that can definitely make them fall for you.”

“are you speaking from experience, mister?”

"partly."

you smile, cupping your hands behind your ear, making sunghoon chuckle as he wipes the corner of his mouth with a napkin.

“when i was a kid, i used to be so timid— waaaaay way worse than i was with you.” he says, and the way his eyes widen when he extends his words make you giggle.

“never talked to my classmates, always stayed at home. even my cousins who visited can’t get a word out of me. my parents tried making me do hobbies to get me out of my shell. you name it, i did it. and it helped, but only by a little. then they thought maybe going to the city might help my introversion. my little sister was growing up, too, so they started looking for a place here in seoul.”

your elbows perch on the table, chin resting above your interlocked fingers as you give him a dreamy nod. “mhm. and then?”

“and then the day before we moved, i decided i’m gonna try playing with the kids from my town. just to give it a last shot. except they teased me a lot because i wasn’t talking. they made fun of my moles, too. but then—” sunghoon pauses.

“this strange girl came shouting. i’ve never seen her before. think she went to a different elementary school, but she fought the boys off even though they were taller than her. she threatened to throw rocks at their heads and pull their hair out. and you know what? they looked scared. i think that was the first time i saw genuine fear.” he says, breaking out in a fit of giggles.

“picture this: i was half a foot taller than her but she was reprimanding me and pushing me to stand up straighter, saying i should learn how to speak up and fight back. that no one would fight my battles for me but me. since then, i started doing it— practicing my speech skills and self confidence. eventually, i stopped cowering whenever strangers approached me and i learned how to speak without my voice shaking. it's all thanks to her.”

when his monologue is over, sunghoon just grins at you like reminiscing alone was enough to comfort him. you feel a little irritated, jealous of the way he speaks so affectionately of her memory.

but at the same time, you can’t help but smile back. that's how you feel about your own little friend after all.

“so you fell in love?"

"i wouldn't be so hasty to call it love. perhaps admiration. deep admiration."

"don’t tell me you never told her your name like my old friend?”

his chuckle is mirthful as he shakes his head. “oh believe me, i did. swear on it. either she didn’t hear me, or she’s deaf because she just started calling me ‘pengoo’ instead of my name.”

pengoo.

it’s familiar.

you squint your eyes once more as you see the dimple on his cheek appear, the indentation becoming deeper as he flashes you a knowing smile.

pengoo, pengoo, pengoo.

wait.

“his shirt. that was the shirt he was wearing...” you trail off in a whisper, the words barely audible as you point your hands at sunghoon, and he just smiles even wider, nodding his head slowly.

you sit there in stunned silence, hands crossed over your mouth as you stare at the sunghoon whose look of pride turned into concern, nervous of the crystal clear shock on your face. he's cautious as he offers his open palm on the table, skittish and biting his lip when you still refuse to hold his hand.

he calls out your name with such gentleness that you’re transported back to that day— to the little, but still taller boy who had tears in his eyes, looking ridiculous and snotty while sporting a white shirt with a penguin patch.

the one who you affectionately called 'cookies and cream' for the specks of black splattered across his face, whose tears you wiped using your special barbie handkerchief, whose arm you scribbled your name on with your glittery purple pen that he wanted to taste because it smelled like grape juice.

though the memory isn’t as clear as it was to you years ago, he was a constant in your life. whenever you encountered people who leaned more towards timidity, it's him who appeared in the back of your mind. the nameless friend who you never saw again after his worried mom fetched him from the playground.

except he's not nameless anymore, and he's sitting right in front of you.

the salty tears burn when you try to hold them back, but they're insistent on coming out so you hang your head low and attempt to contain your sniffles. panicked, sunghoon gently holds on your arm and guides you outside of the restaurant to a more secluded spot in the front lawn.

“y/n.” he calls out again, pale hands gently squeezing on your hips as he bends down, trying to take a peek of your face that you insist to cover. “angel… did i make you cry again?” he sighs and you shake your head, quickly taking him in your arms, hugging him like how a mother would her child who’s come back from war.

“my pengoo.. my pengoo.” you choke out in between stifled sobs, stroking his head. his arms wrap around your waist, lifting you off of the ground for a moment as his face settles on the crook of your neck, nose brushing against the skin as he whispers back.

“it’s me. pengoo’s here. you're okay. i'm not leaving.” his words do nothing but make you cry harder, tears staining his shirt and fists crumpling the fabric on his back.

“i can’t believe it’s you. i–”

"do you want to talk about this somewhere else, angel?” sunghoon asks in a soft voice, a tone he reserved only for you, carefully wiping your damp under eyes.

a nod is all he needs.

the travel is silent aside from the small little sniffles you do and the faint melody from the car’s speaker. your eyes blankly stare outside, the view of the buildings just as blurry as the thoughts and memories running in your head. meanwhile sunghoon’s trying his best to console you, his thumb lazily rubbing the skin on the back of your hand while stealing glances every now and then.

“where are we?” you croak out when the car comes to a halt. sunghoon opens the car door, his fingers nimble as they take your seatbelt off for you. “a park near my neighborhood. in one of my favorite spots to rest my head which you need to do.”

his hand return to yours so he can pull you towards the picnic area.

sits down on a bench and you elect to sit on the wooden table itself, head craning as you take in the new environment. the place is beautiful. quiet, serene and full of trees that it looks like a modern glitch in the middle of a forest.

“you’re not gonna kill me for knowing your secret, are you?” you sniffle, feet gently nudging the side of his thigh with a soft chuckle.

“no people, no witness. i’m sorry, y/n. can’t have people knowing i was a loser back in the day.” he says in a gurgled voice after looking around, playfully pinching your arm which makes you squeal and swat his hands away.

in the middle of play fighting, your eyes catch the swing set nearby and you remember him again. pengoo.

the flashback is so clear you could almost see a younger version of yourselves: you, pushing him on the swing, and him using his voice properly for the first time to scream ‘stop!’ when his seated body lifts too high off the ground.

you turn to sunghoon, the real, grown sunghoon, and he’s already looking up at you with one hand resting on your covered knee, giving it languid strokes with his thumb.

"penny for your thoughts?"

“why, hoon? i mean.. if you knew all along, why didn’t you tell me?” you reach for his cheek and his eyes close at the contact, letting out a soft sigh of comfort. he holds it in place, tilting his head to leave a light kiss on your palm.

“i’m sorry. if you want me to be honest, i had no plans to let you know. i wasn’t even aware you remembered that day. for all i knew, i was just one of the strangers who got bright little y/n’s help.”

“you… you grew up so well.” salty tears blur your vision again as you lean down to press your lips against his forehead.

“i couldn’t have done it without you. that was a significant event in my formative years— i seriously can’t imagine what kind of life i’d live if i hadn’t met you that day.” he stands up so he can tower over you, looking down to wipe the wetness from your eyes.

“you're my savior. my angel in every sense of the word.”

you walk around the area holding each other’s hand, going over your first meeting— the actual one — the one you had before you met again as grown ups.

he tried talking his parents out of moving, and though they were surprised at his sudden enthusiasm, they ultimately refused because the new house in seoul was already paid for. he waited for you that morning, until the last second— until his parents were yelling at him from the car. 'i think i left a piece of my heart in that playground.' are his exact words.

his search didn't stop there. night and day he bothered his parents to contact anyone they could from their previous town, to ask if anyone had a child with your name. but because his parents were like him— aloof and private, nothing really turned up.

but he was a kid determined to keep you alive and present in his mind so when he met you again that fortunate morning in university, he immediately knew it was you without even hearing your voice.

every day he stayed by your side was spent in awe, marveling at the woman you’ve become.

there wasn’t much difference, physically nor emotionally. obviously you’ve matured and grown into your features— but you still talked in the same cadence, spoke your mind with just as much enthusiasm, and still cared for people the same way you did to the young boy in the playground.

still the same girl who’d get him too flustered to talk properly.

“so jay and jake knew about me the whole time too?” you ask after arriving at the parking area and sunghoon lifts you up to sit on the hood of his car. he nods, comfortably settling between your parted legs as his hands rest on your thighs.

“of course. they were the first to know about my childhood crush after all.”

“childhood crush, huh. what about now? am i still a crush?” you wiggle your eyebrows at him and he rolls his eyes, the cute little dip on his cheek becoming more evident.

“you know the answer to that already, angel.” he replies, pulling you closer to him by your hips and your arms naturally loop around his neck like they were always meant to be there.

you don’t know whether it’s the long day you’ve had, or the insane revelation of who sunghoon has been this whole time, but your head’s starting to spin.

perhaps it’s his cologne, how it’s starting to smell is stronger and stronger as his body leans closer to yours. or maybe it’s the way you feel too warm in your own skin whenever his eyes drop to your lips, and how he his sharp fangs poke out when he bites his in return.

it’s like the air turned heavy in a matter of a few seconds and the cool breeze is doing nothing to thin out the tension in the wide empty space.

from this close, you could hear his breath get slower, thicker, eyes never leaving your mouth. he brings a hand up to cup your cheek and your breath hitches when his thumb brushes over your lower lip.

sunghoon closes the distance first.

the kiss is sweet and gentle but filled with yearning and just a little bit of hesitation. your lips are the softest too, practically erasing any memory left over from the other irrelevant girls he’s kissed before. and you’re so damn sweet.

despite every inch of his body wanting to have more, he does the gentlemanly thing to do and breaks the kiss but not without biting on your plump lower lip first. when his eyes finally focus, your cheeks are flushed, tinted a rosey color like your slightly swollen lips that reflect the distant street lights.

sunghoon's grip on you is as tight— just a hair above bruising. it’s taking everything to hold on his self-control, to not take you for himself right then and there.

he just had you back. he doesn’t want to scare you away by being so forward with his need and indecency.

but it’s so, so hard to behave when you’re like this, so small and flustered, looking up at him with half lidded eyes and your lower lip trapped between your teeth.

so when he feels you attempt to press your thighs close, his instinct tells him to pull you even closer to keep them open, the movement making your dress ride up, the slit on its side exposing more of your skin.

and you whine—either from his touch or from the cold air— but sunghoon doesn’t care. not anymore.

the noise you make is more than enough to snap whatever’s left of his restraint and he leans down to capture your lips again. but it isn't soft this time.

it's sure.

it's hungry and handsy.

still full of yearning, but mixed with the raw, physical need to be closer to one another.

your heads tilt to opposite sides, lips weaved together while letting out small whispers of sweet nothings in between.

sunghoon takes your lower lip in between his again, sucking on the flesh while his hand slip underneath the slit of your dress, palm rubbing up and down the skin of your upper thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

while his lips keep your mind fuzzy, he busies his hand by trailing it higher and higher beneath the loose fabric of your dress until you feel his thumb graze your bare hips, just a fraction of an inch below where your panties are resting, making you gasp against his mouth.

a chance opens up for sunghoon to snake his tongue past your lips, and he greedily takes it, determined to explore every possible inch. you taste like decadence. like the coffee ice cream you had for dessert combined with something celestial.

it's fucking heavenly.

you try to fight him back with your tongue, and for a while, he lets you. convinces you that you’re winning when you try to push your tongue against his, pink muscles twirling together in a dance full of lust and wanting, but sunghoon eventually grows tired of it and he gives your thigh a reprimanding squeeze, making you moan again, providing him the perfect opportunity to take over the messy liplock.

you take the small bit of revenge you can by threading your fingers through the jet black locks on the back of his head, tugging on it once, twice, until he’s growling your name against your open mouth.

his lips wrap around yours, your tongue graze on the sharp end of his canines, his fingers wander near the plump of your ass, and you kiss until both of you are literally seeing stars.

you part, heaving oxygen back in your deprived lungs and your foreheads meet with eyes still in steady contact as your heavy breathing mingles.

sunghoon’s hands never leave your thigh or your cheek. rather, he gives them a final brush with his thumb before stealing a quick peck, damp lips brushing against your skin until it reaches your jaw, giving the spot a kiss as well.

“perv.” you say, raising your thigh a little just so you could push sunghoon’s hand away. “first kiss and you’re already feeling me up?”

“okay, y/n. let’s pretend your eyes weren’t my arms the entire time i was driving. i know you like how veiny they look.” he replies after leaning back, the same canines that were grazing on your tongue a while ago now in full display as he flashes you a cocky grin.

“i.. you noticed that?”

“i did. i notice a lot of things about you.”

“like what?”

he's quiet for a moment.

“like how you’re starting to shiver.” his muscular arms lift you up and safely bring you back down to the ground.

“i think it’s time to get you home, angel.”

a cacophony of cheers erupt in your classroom as the announcement blares from the speaker. an early dismissal due to seniors needing several classrooms to prepare for something you didn’t care enough to pay attention to.

all you knew was you needed to get out as soon as possible so you can see sunghoon again.

from: pengoo. 🐧— heard the announcement yet? :) to: pengoo. 🐧 — yep!! i'll just grab a few things from my locker and head there. see u! ♡ from: pengoo. 🐧 — see you, angel. :)

the two of you made the university garden your official hang-out spot. specifically the one near the big ginkgo tree where the both of you have spent hours under either people-watching, eating or reviewing.

and stealing kisses from each other, of course.

so when sunghoon asked to meet you there this morning, the answer was an automatic yes.

just as you sit down on the picnic mat, you see him appear from behind a tall shrub, bag slung over his shoulder and a big plastic bag hanging from his hand.

“did i take too long? i'm sorry, angel. it was lunch rush and there was a line in the restaurant and jake was arguing with a girl and—”

“hoon. i just got here. it’s okay.” you say, chuckling at his never-changing nervous demeanor.

he leans forward to give your lips a chaste peck, an apology leaving his lips again before he busies himself by taking your lunch out of the plastic and making sure your bottle is uncapped and your utensils are cleaned before tending to his own food.

a fond smile creeps on your lips as watch him try to talk about his morning in between bites. he really has improved since that date. gone is the boy who shied away from your touches, and replaced by one who openly asks for a hug and whines when he doesn’t feel your hands on his whenever you walk together.

his hand is always in yours when he drives both of you to school (despite the fact that he has to drive 20 minutes earlier to do so.) his arm consistently curled around your shoulder or your waist when you walk to class together. you always tease him for it too, but he just takes it with a smile because he knows it’s true.

he’s whipped for you.

after you eat and clean up, you offer to keep the picnic mat in your locker but sunghoon mentions he wants to stay for a bit more, and you appease him, letting him lie down with his head comfortably laying on your plush thighs while you lean back, palms pressed on the mat to support yourself.

silence envelops the both of you, but it doesn’t make your head run through a million thoughts anymore. it isn’t tense this time.

your eyes wander to him again— your not-quite-boyfriend boyfriend.

your finger pokes at the mole at the side of his nose out of habit, the glass beads in your bracelet reflecting bright spots on his smooth skin. you go from one mole to the next, moving it down the sharp bridge of his nose, then to his jaw, and you giggle upon feeling sunghoon shiver under your featherlight touch.

you move your middle finger down his neck, choosing to poke at the peak of his adam’s apple before noticing the pink lines on his neck.

again?

before you can even point it out, sunghoon’s voice cuts through the silence.

“i feel like pengoo whenever i’m with you.”

you sit up properly. “pengoo?”

he gives you a nod and you stare, giving him a look that spells ‘i don’t know what you mean’, making him smile.

“whenever you’re around… it’s like i become that kid again. the one that can’t speak or think properly. i don’t know, it’s weird. the same girl that gave me the confidence to talk being the same one i can’t be around without making a fool of myself? i can’t even give you a proper compliment for god’s sake.”

that’s true. he always compliments your outfits, or your accessories, or compliments you through implications. things like “you’re making everyone stare.” or “that cute puppy looks just like you.” but nothing that’s actually a straight forward compliment.

you never had the courage to bring it up to him, partly because you’re afraid he might find you too needy, but also because deep down, you know the words he did say already took a lot of courage from him.

“i don’t.. really mind. not that much.”

“don’t lie to me, angel.”

“i’m serious!” you laugh, fingers forcibly pushing the edges of his frowned lips upward. “i do have a question though.”

“what is it?”

your fingers ghost over the exposed skin on the base of his neck, fingers gently pressing on the spot between his clavicles, tracing over the faint red scratches over it.

“have you been scratching your neck again? why do you do it when you know i don’t like it?”

“angel… i just—” he sighs softly, reaching for your hand. “i get frustrated.”

“you always say that. but there has to be a way for you to release your frustrations without scratching? the scar from last time isn’t even healed yet.”

below you, sunghoon releases a soft sigh and raises a hand to poke at the same spot on your neck. “what is this?” he asks.

“my neck…?” you reply cluelessly, to which he just shakes his head, poking at the skin again flinch from the ticklishness of his touch. "what's inside here?"

“my throat?”

he finally nods, pointing to his own. “they get stuck here.” he opens his mouth, tongue sticking out and points to it as well. “and here.”

“they? hoon, you have to stop talking in riddles. you know i’m stupid.”

sunghoon runs a hand over his face and sits up, moving behind you until you're settled between his legs, back comfortably leaned against his firm chest.

“okay. i’m doing this.” he whispers mostly to himself before squeezing you in his arms as if to reassure himself. “don’t interrupt me, okay? because if i don’t get this out completely, i might not be able to say it at all.”

you press your palms on the arms wrapped around your waist and nod.

“you see those those?” sunghoon asks, and your eyes follow the direction of his finger pointing at the different florae.

the green leaves of the bushes look even brighter next to different bundles of spring-born tulips— colors of white, red and vibrant yellow scattered throughout the garden.

you're unsure of where this conversation is headed, but nod anyway.

“it’s like i have that inside me. a garden— of words.” he says slowly, taking pauses between every words.

“at least that’s what i started telling myself after i left years ago to aid me in my quietness and it helped. a lot. i realized that i don’t really have to give people anything of value, and it made talking easier. if i don’t like someone, i can give them dead leaves or even weeds. but if i do, i can give them grass or the most common roses and it’ll do. maybe even an arrangement of better flowers for the people i want to keep in my life.”

he stays quiet for a beat, and you can feel his nose poke on your skin as his lips press on the exposed skin of your shoulder. “but you… you know you mean a lot to me, right?”

you reply with a hum, eyes glued to the leaves and petals swaying in the wind.

“i'm slow to speak because i take so long walking through the garden. because it's so difficult to choose what to give to you. because i want to pick and gather only the prettiest flowers— the prettiest, kindest words —for you. i want them to be neatly arranged and looking just as beautiful as the way you appear to me. because you’re precious to me... and you deserve nothing less.”

the words tug on your heartstrings in a way you’ve never felt before. to be adored and admired so much to the point of speechlessness wasn’t something you’ve ever experienced, or frankly, ever expected.

so when he speaks of you in such a way, it overwhelms your chest with a sense of safety— of knowing your heart is safe with him.

and the way he says it too: voice low, shaky, and starkly different from the composed sunghoon you usually hear in classes.

it's then that you realize the apprehension you saw you wasn't done out of malice.

sunghoon only did it because he wanted to protect something dear to him.

he shifts and pulls his hands away from your waist only to sit cross legged in front of you. it seems like you aren’t the only one feeling vulnerable because when you see him, he looks just as flustered.

his cheeks are rosy and his ears are in an even deeper shade, almost matching the petals floating above the grass.

“don’t laugh at me for this, okay?” a defeated chuckle leaves his lips and he reaches for your hand, threading his fingers through yours before looking you in the eye. "jake and jay know about how much i've been rehearsing."

"hm?"

“i’ve dreamt of meeting you again, you know? so when i saw you on our first day, i told myself that i’ll do it. i’ll show you my gratitude. i’ll show you i’ve changed. that i’ve grown. that i’m not the sickly and shy kid in the park anymore.” sunghoon pauses. “so every night in front of my mirror, i rehearse the different ways i could talk to you— and it worked. it always goes smoothly.”

“but i’ll see you again in the morning and it’s like the hours i spent practicing rush out the window— because.. b-because i’ll hear your voice, and you’ll laugh, and you'll smile. and you’ll look at me the way you are right now… and it’s like all the bouquet of flowers get stuck here.” sunghoon explains, finger accusatorily pointing to the still-healing scar on the skin above his throat.

“it feels like their thorns are piercing me from the inside, angel. it sucks and it’s frustrating. and the only way to relieve it is to scratch, but they won’t come out even if i do. and then i’ll beat myself up over it, go home, and the cycle will repeat itself. and— you’re doing that smile again. s-stop it!” he stammers, finger now angrily pointed to you.

you chuckle because you don’t even know what kind of smile he means and sunghoon just sighs, reaching for his neck again, palm over his throat like he’s trying to relieve the itch without scratching.

he looks annoyed and irritated, nose scrunched up as he clears his throat one, two times.

“i— i love you, y/n.”

the three words he’s been itching to confess for months, now breaking free from the tip of his tongue.

both of you freeze in your spots.

you can’t believe the words he just said, and he looks like can’t believe it either.

“i love you.” sunghoon repeats, gnawing on the flesh on the inside of his lip while his hands squeeze on the base of his neck as if physically forcing the words out. “i think you’re so cool. and you’re pretty. but even that isn’t enough. beautiful is the closest i can get, but i hope you get what i mean a-and… fuck, i should’ve just written a letter.”

an intense battle of eye contact ensues, his free hand curled tightly atop his lap as he takes a deep breath in.

“i— i’ve admired you since i was a clueless kid in the playground. liked you s-since you talked to me on our first day. and i’ve loved you since our first kiss, but i was too much of a pussy to say it then because i didn’t want you to think i only loved you because of it.” he grunts, knuckles pressing on his temple. “and i’m sorry that i don’t talk much because every time i do, it just makes you cry and i don’t want to see you crying because it breaks my heart too—”

the speed at which his words come out begins to pick up, making it barely understandable so you call out his name in an attempt to slow him down but he just looks at you with determination in his eyes.

“no! listen to me. i know i’ve had my moments, and i’ll probably keep having them, but i want you to know that i love you. sincerely. you’re precious to me, y/n. and i don’t want you to doubt what i feel any longer so believe me when i say i’m trying my best right now, even though i’m babbling.”

he pauses just to take another inhale, and when he finally speaks again, both his voice and his eyes turn softer. so soft you can't hear his words.

"i'm sorry, hoon. i didn't quite catch that."

"y/n. will you please be my girlfriend? you can say no, o-of course. i'm just throwing the idea out there but if you think i haven't proved myself yet then i'll be fine just waiting, i swear i c—”

you swallow the rest of his words in your mouth as you press your lips against his, eyes closed while you grab sunghoon’s hand by his wrist and guide it to your nape.

he lets out a meek sound of surprise but you can immediately feel him melt into you, fingers tightly holding on the neckline of your shirt as his soft, pillow-soft lips locked against yours in a slow but passionate kiss.

when you pull away, sunghoon’s eyes are glassy and you can see love pouring out from the way the beautiful chocolate brown orbs gaze into yours.

you leave a gentle peck on the mole under his eye— a thing you’ve picked up after multiple make out sessions —and lean back to appreciate the full view of a flustered sunghoon.

“i love you too.” you finally reply with an elated smile. “and i’d love to be your girlfriend.”

if humans had the chance to have heart-shaped eyes, you’re convinced sunghoon would have it at this moment.

his cheekbones are pushed all the way up, pearly whites flashed at you before he tackles you down into the picnic mat with a tight bear hug making you giggle loudly as he rolls the both of you from side to side while pressing kisses all over your face.

“hoon!” you squeal while wriggling in his hold and he relents, standing up to run in a wide circle around the garden, arms spread out wide while yelling.

“she said yes! y/n’s mine! my girlfriend!”

thankfully, the few people meters away only flash the two of you confused looks before going about their business.

"can't believe you're my girlfriend now." he giggles breathlessly as he ends his run in front of you, only to wrap his arms around your figure once more, lifting you off the ground and spinning in place while professing his love at the top of his lungs.

it’s dizzying to be his, literally and figuratively. but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you're his, and he's yours.

you love park sunghoon.

from the thorns, to the long stems and rough leaves, up until the prettiest petals that are finally able to leave his soft lips.

but sunghoon is determined to spend the rest of life growing his garden until he can find the words that'll convince you that he loves you more.

BONUS SCENE:

"let me get this straight. you're telling me that you got jealous of me.. so you made my little y/n cry three times?" jeonghan's voice is low, face void of any emotion as his arms cross over his chest across the both of you.

"technically it's seven, if we count the times i cried over winter break too." you mumble, meekly raising seven fingers.

sunghoon turn to you with wide eyes in disbelief. why would you throw your boyfriend under the bus? during his first time personally meeting your brother, no less.

"y/n, what the hell?"

jeonghan's hand slammed on the table, making the both of you flinch. "don't look at her. look at me. i was asking you a question, and now you're going to explain."

he thought jeonghan was cool— and he still does— but he reminded sunghoon so much of you whenever you get stern, and it's like deja vu of the time you got serious with him during your first date.

"no, i— it wasn't necessarily because of that, hyung. i just so happen to have made her cry after i got jealous so it isn't really a cause-and-effect scenario—"

"love, you're getting a little off track..."

"he said he wanted me to explain—"

your brother's giggles echo throughout your family home's dining area and he shakes his head, leaning over to tap on sunghoon's shoulder. "nah, man. i'm just fucking with you. but you knew i had blonde hair so you really should've known better."

"i.. y-yes, sir! i mean hyung! sir— i.. i mean... yeah." he sighs in defeat, head hanging low in an apologetic bow while jeonghan just nodded in acknowledgement.

"but if you make my little y/n cry again, i'll make sure you really won't be able to use that throat of your ever again, got it?" the way your brother's able to make those words sound sweet make even your heart race, your hand finding sunghoon's underneath the table to give it comforting pats.

"and you're sleeping in my room. no nicknames or pda as long as you're under the yoon household."

your boyfriend's eyes travel between you and your brother and he only grips your hand, nodding.

he can't wait to go back to seoul.

꒰ from ! 🐰 yan ꒱⠀⠀aaaaaaaaaaa!! it's finally done. i'm gonna cry. ૮₍˶ ╥ ‸ ╥ ⑅₎ა i saw the video of i-lander sunghoon dancing to pretty u again and i just had to. if you can't already tell, this is heavily inspired by the song and the confession part is heavily inspired by it! i'm thinking of writing shorter drabbles of other members so just shoot me an ask if you have an idea. < 3

⌗ taglist — @neozon3nha @zerocoded @firstclassjaylee @yuyita-rosier @chiiyuuvv

#₊⊹⁀➴ fic — e404 #sunghoon oneshot #sunghoon x you #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon fluff #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x you #enhypen x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #sunghoon #enhypen #₊⊹⁀➴ yannouncements !

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fromdove · 2 months ago

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“i told you not to wait up,” jason says, voice low, rough, ruined from yelling or running or both. he's peeling his jacket off one shoulder, the kevlar sticking where the blood’s dried tacky and brown, and you’re already crossing the room to him with a frown and a half-empty bottle of peroxide.

“yeah?” you say. “and i told you not to get stabbed again. guess we’re both bad at listening.”

his mouth twitches like he wants to laugh. doesn’t. his whole body sways like the adrenaline’s leaking out of him, and now there’s nothing holding him upright but pure spite and habit.

you grab his wrist. gently. “sit down.”

“doll, i’m fine—”

“sit. down.”

he does. mostly because you said it like that. partly because he’s tired. mostly because you’re touching him again.

the cut on his side is shallow but ugly, right under the ribs, still leaking a little. the sight of it makes your stomach twist, like maybe if you’d called him one minute earlier, if you’d kept him talking, if you’d just begged a little harder— whatever. you’re not crying. you’re not.

“what happened?” you ask, even though you probably don’t want to know.

he shrugs, flinches. “guy had a knife. i had bad reflexes.”

“your reflexes are never bad.”

he looks at you. for a second. and then away.

you clean the cut. you don’t say anything about how he hisses through his teeth. or how his jaw tightens like he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t feel you, doesn’t care that you’re here, doesn’t want to grab you by the wrist and kiss you so hard he forgets how to breathe.

“you could’ve called for backup,” you say. softly. the gauze sticks a little. you don’t apologize.

“i didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“and you getting hurt is fine?”

“i’m used to it.”

that does something awful to your chest. you press harder than you mean to. he doesn’t say anything. just watches you with those stupid storm-cloud eyes like he’s sorry but also not sorry at all.

“idiot,” you mutter. not looking at him.

“you love it,” he says, smirking with blood on his teeth.

you glare. “you’re literally bleeding out and you still manage to flirt.”

“i’m multitasking.”

you hate him. you love him. you hate that you love him. you love that he’s here, still, bruised and reckless and real and breathing.

you lean in before you can stop yourself. just enough to rest your forehead against his. his skin is hot. he smells like smoke and metal and something that might be yours.

“please don’t die,” you whisper.

he doesn’t say anything.

but his hand finds yours. bruised knuckles and all. squeezes once.

“i wasn’t planning on it,” he says.

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solxamber · 10 months ago

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Trash Novel Chronicles: Please Let Me Live - Vil Schoenheit x reader

You get isekai'd into the worst novel you've had the misfortune of reading because apparently your life is a cosmic joke. Now all you have to do is not act like the character you've possessed and it'll be fine, you think? Your fiancé being Vil Schoenheit makes it a little harder to behave like a human being with functional braincells, but hey, atleast he likes you, you think?

Series Masterlist

You'd avoided it for so long. For months, your best friend had been pestering you to read the shoujo isekai novel of the year. According to them, it was the epitome of romantic drama, the kind that would "turn your heart into a mess of feelings" and "change your life." So, finally, after a particularly grueling week, your willpower hit rock bottom. You caved. You bought it, poured yourself a drink, and figured, "How bad can it be?"

Turns out, really bad.

You’d barely made it past the first few chapters before your brain began to leak out of your ears. Every overused villainess plot point imaginable was crammed into the story like a contest of "how much nonsense can we fit in here before the reader gives up?" The evil fiancée everyone inexplicably hated? Check. The perfect cinnamon roll male lead everyone adored even though he had the personality of wet cardboard? Double check. The heroine who was so pure that even her sneeze would be enough to unite warring nations who also happens to be the saintess? You had to put the book down and take a moment when she gave a speech about friendship that was so saccharine, your teeth hurt.

Grumbling and filled with regret, you got up to refill your drink… only to slip on bubble wrap you swore yesterday that you were going to pick up later, fall face-first into the kitchen counter, and began to bleed out.

It was a comically stupid way to die. You knew that as you lay there, watching the light fade from your vision, your last thoughts being, This is the dumbest thing that’s ever happened to me.

And then, darkness.

You woke up with a groan, your head pounding. As your vision cleared, you noticed you were lying in a very, very fancy bed. Silk sheets, gold trimming on the canopy, the works. And you were dressed in something frilly, layered, and far too complicated for someone who just woke up from a near-death experience.

"What the…"

You sat up, rubbing your eyes, only to freeze as the realization hit you. This was not your bed. This was not your apartment. This was… Oh god, no.

You whipped your head around the lavish room, recognizing it from the novel you’d been hate-reading just last night. The massive mirror above the dresser, the tapestry with an overly detailed family crest, the obnoxiously large bouquet of roses that smelled way too sweet.

You’re in the book.

Panicking, you scrambled out of bed and rushed to the full-length mirror by the wall. The reflection staring back at you was not your own. Instead, you saw an unfamiliar face—her face. The one mentioned once, maybe twice, in the whole novel before being discarded like an old shoe: the betrothed of the villain.

The fiancée who dumps him for the male lead. The fiancée who gets themselves killed in the process.

“Oh, come on!” you groaned, slapping your forehead. “I’m the villain’s betrothed? I’m that idiot who leaves Vil Schoenheit because I fall for the human incarnation of a sugar cube?”

But there was no escaping it. You were now stuck in the body of a side character so irrelevant that even her death was treated as an afterthought. The one who leaves her handsome, ambitious, gorgeous fiancé for… Neige.

No. No, no, no. You were not about to die over a soggy cinnamon roll.

Determined to change your fate, you gathered your wits and opened the door to leave the room. But of course, you ran headlong into a tall figure, knocking you both back.

“Oof! Careful there!” a smooth, yet stern voice said. You looked up—and froze. Standing before you, looking like something straight out of a high-fashion magazine, was Vil Schoenheit. The man whose heart you were supposed to break, the villain who would later descend into madness after you ditch him.

And wow. In person, he was even more stunning than the novel had described. His golden-blond hair shimmered in the sunlight pouring through the window, his purple eyes were as sharp as they were beautiful, and his posture screamed confidence.

You blinked up at him, utterly dumbfounded. You’re supposed to leave him? For Neige? You nearly gagged at the thought.

Vil raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your wide-eyed staring. “Is something the matter?”

You gulped. Right. You were supposed to be cold and dismissive toward him, weren’t you? But how? This man looked like he could make the heavens weep with his beauty. How had your character ever even considered leaving him?

“No, nothing’s the matter!” you blurted out, a little too enthusiastically. “Actually, everything’s great! You look fantastic! I mean, not that you don’t always look fantastic—because you do—but, you know, extra fantastic today!”

Vil’s eyes narrowed. “You’re acting strange.”

Abort. Abort!

You quickly cleared your throat. “Uh, I’ve just been… thinking. About us.”

His gaze became sharper. “About us?”

You nodded, plastering on your most sincere smile. “Yes! I’ve realized… I haven’t been very, uh, appreciative of you lately. And I’m sorry for that. Really, I am. So from now on, I’ll be the most appreciative fiancée ever!”

Vil looked at you as though you’d just told him the sun was cold. He clearly didn’t trust this sudden change in attitude. “What exactly brought this on?” he asked slowly, suspiciously.

Time for Plan B. “Oh, you know, just… reflection! Self-improvement! I thought, ‘Why would I ever look anywhere else when I’ve got someone like *you* right in front of me?’ You’re… amazing, really.” You cringed internally at how corny that sounded, but Vil didn’t seem entirely put off.

“Hm,” was all he said, but his piercing gaze stayed locked on you, watching for any sign of deceit.

You were sweating bullets, but at least he wasn’t storming off. Yet.

You knew from the moment you read the back cover that this novel was going to be a dumpster fire of clichés, but you were not prepared for the sheer chaos of it all.

So, first off, we have the heroine—the Saintess—who has somehow never faced a single hardship in her life, despite the fact that she’s supposed to be the kingdom’s beacon of virtue and a symbol of overcoming hardship. She’s engaged to the crown prince, who conveniently disappears on a diplomatic mission and dies offscreen, probably to make room for her new love interest, Neige LeBlanche. Neige. That sparkly ray of sunshine who is so perfect and pure that you feel like you need sunglasses whenever his name is mentioned. Because apparently, what’s more romantic than falling for a guy immediately after your fiancé kicks the bucket?

Then there’s the second male lead, the brooding Duke of the North, who checks all the boxes: tall, brooding, handsome, tragic backstory—yawn. Of course, he’s madly in love with the Saintess, and like any self-respecting second male lead in a trashy romance, he sacrifices himself for her later. Because nothing says “I’m irrelevant” quite like noble self-sacrifice.

And don't even get started on the heroine's best friend. She’s basically there to fawn over the Saintess and then inexplicably fall for Vil, the Grand Duke, after she pressures him into apologizing for insulting the heroine's dress. Like, why? Was his dress critique that alluring?

Now, Vil Schoenheit. The Grand Duke. The guy you’re currently stuck with as your fiancé. He’s actually a decent character—powerful, intelligent, not falling over himself to worship the Saintess like everyone else. But in the novel, he’s wasted. Why? Because he’s engaged to the character you’re now possessing—Miss Mean and Cold—who treats him like dirt because she’s too busy fantasizing about Neige. You know, the guy she has no shot with because he’s destined to fall for the Saintess. Then, when your character eventually dumps Vil for Neige, she dies in a freak accident. Vil, who actually loved her (for reasons no one understands), is so heartbroken that he turns into the main villain.

Yes, that’s right—this whole mess of a plot ends with Vil going full villain mode because the love of his life ditched him for the living embodiment of a children’s snowman and then died in a way that no one can explain. Cue the Saintess and Neige teaming up to defeat him and live happily ever after.

And that’s the story. A tangled web of nonsensical relationships, conveniently dead characters, and more emotional whiplash than you can handle. And the cherry on top? You're stuck in it, watching everything unfold firsthand. It's honestly a wonder the book didn’t end up as kindling.

A few days passed, and somehow, miraculously, you managed to keep up the act. Every morning you would wake up, still half-expecting to snap out of this bizarre isekai nightmare, but instead, you were met with Vil’s meticulous morning routine and the low hum of his voice offering helpful reminders about skincare.

And the more time you spent with him, the more baffled you became.

How the hell could the original character have messed this up?!

Sure, Vil was particular—okay, maybe borderline obsessive—about appearances. His lectures about proper sunscreen application could rival the length of the Odyssey. And yes, the daily inspections of your outfit choices felt a little like going through customs at a royal border.

But… he was kind? Like, actually caring?

Every meal was an event because he made sure you were eating properly and not just shoving random food into your mouth like the gremlin you clearly were before. He listened when you rambled about your day, offering advice with this gentle patience that honestly made you want to weep. How could anyone leave this?

You found yourself in front of a mirror one afternoon, pacing and gesturing wildly at your reflection, as if you could summon the spirit of the character you’d possessed. "What the actual hell was wrong with you?!" you hissed at the glass. “What kind of brain rot would make someone ditch a man like Vil?! Are you missing brain cells, or was your skull just a rental with nothing in it?!”

You paused, glaring at your reflection as if it could offer answers, but nope. It just stared back, helpless.

“Like, hello?!” you continued, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “You had a golden opportunity here! He’s literally gorgeous! He’s got hair that looks like it was hand-spun by some ancient beauty god, his fashion sense could kill a lesser mortal, and he—*gasp*—cares about your well-being?!”

You slapped your forehead dramatically. “How did you mess this up? Were you allergic to good things? Did you wake up every day and choose to be a feral raccoon instead of, I don’t know, appreciating this actual masterpiece of a human being? What, did you look at his perfect face and go, ‘Nah, I’d rather yeet myself into self-destruction?’ Because clearly, that’s what happened!”

Your reflection remained silent, offering no help, which only fueled your rant further.

“You absolute donut! You ridiculous bottle of poorly mixed potion! You—” You stopped mid-sentence, running out of sufficiently creative insults to throw at the former owner of this body. Because seriously, what kind of fool would’ve thrown Vil away?

You gripped the sides of the vanity table, leaning forward, narrowing your eyes at your own reflection. "If I find out that you gave up on this because he once asked you to wear a face mask or told you to drink more water… I swear, I'm going to find a way to repossess you just to kill you again for making me deal with this."

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your self-directed tirade. You nearly jumped out of your skin, spinning around to see Vil standing in the doorway, one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Talking to yourself again?” he asked, his voice smooth but with a teasing edge. “You know, that’s usually a sign of stress. Perhaps we should revisit that meditation routine I mentioned.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless, wondering how much he’d overheard. But then you caught sight of that soft smile he reserved just for you, and your brain short-circuited all over again.

Right. The original character was definitely an idiot.

The first major hurdle hit you when you least expected it.

It all started with what should have been a calm afternoon—a brief moment of peace where you and Vil could actually spend time together, no schemes, no weird confrontations, just enjoying tea. You were finally getting comfortable with each other, slowly building the trust that had been so fragile at the start. Finally, you thought, things were moving smoothly.

Then the overused villainess trope decided to rear its ugly head.

Vil was talking about an upcoming event he’d be hosting, his voice calm, his usual stern features softened just slightly by the moment of peace. You were finally letting your guard down.

That was until the door creaked open and in waltzed the heroine’s best friend, a girl with wide, doe-like eyes and a penchant for stirring up unnecessary drama. Behind her, looming in the doorway, was the second male lead—your eternal source of frustration from the novel. He was tall, brooding, and always, always popping up at the most inconvenient moments. A defeated looking Epel walked in behind them, with a look that screamed 'trust me I tried to stop them.'

“Oh no,” you whispered under your breath, recognizing this scene before it could even play out. You knew what was coming, and you braced yourself for the utter absurdity of it.

Vil’s sharp gaze flicked from the two intruders back to you, his brows furrowing in mild irritation. “What is it now?” he muttered, already sensing the impending nonsense.

The heroine’s friend, ever the bringer of chaos, marched right up to your table with a dramatic flair that could only come from someone who believed they were the only purveyor of justice. “I can’t stay quiet any longer!” she declared, pointing an accusatory finger in Vil’s direction. “Vil, how could you treat the heroine this way?! You’ve been so cold, so distant—and it’s clear that you don’t truly care for anyone but yourself!”

You blinked. Excuse me?

Vil’s lips pursed, the irritation growing on his face. “And what, pray tell, did I do?”

“You know what you did!” she exclaimed, crossing her arms like she’d just delivered the most damning statement in history. “You’ve been ignoring her, brushing her off, and acting like she doesn’t even exist. She’s heartbroken because of you!”

You groaned internally. Oh no, this was that scene. The one where, because Vil once made an offhand comment about the heroine’s poor choice in dresses at a ball, suddenly he was painted as some cruel villain who was emotionally tormenting the delicate heroine. It was such an incredibly stupid misunderstanding that you distinctly remembered wanting to throw the book across the room when you’d first read it.

To make matters worse, the second male lead, standing silently but brooding in the doorway, was glowering at Vil like he was ready to challenge him to a duel at any moment. Because of a comment about a dress.

“Are you serious?” you blurted out, the frustration bubbling up before you could stop yourself.

The heroine’s friend gasped, her eyes wide. “Excuse me?!”

“Let me get this straight,” you said, rising from your seat with a groan, “you’re upset because Vil, what, didn’t shower her with praise at the last event? And now you’ve decided to come in here, storming into our tea time, to complain about it?”

The second male lead’s brooding scowl deepened, his jaw tightening. “Vil has been cruel—”

“About a dress.” You cut him off, waving your hand dismissively. “Vil made one comment about her dress. That’s it. And now we’re doing this whole song and dance like he’s some kind of evil tyrant?”

The room was already tense, the heroine’s best friend visibly fuming, but you couldn’t help it. The words just came out before you could stop them.

“And while we’re at it,” you said, your voice dripping with mock innocence, “let’s talk about that dress. You know, the one you’re all so upset about. I mean, I’m no fashion expert, but who in their right mind thought wearing that shade of mustard-yellow was a good idea?”

The friend’s mouth fell open, but you weren’t finished. “I mean, she walked into the ballroom looking like a sad banana trying to go to a high society function. I get it—saintess and all that—but there’s no reason to dress like the interior of an overripe cantaloupe.”

Vil made a choking sound next to you, and you dared to glance at him. His eyes were wide with shock, but there was an unmistakable glint of amusement. Oh, he wasn’t pleased with the crudeness, but he definitely wasn’t going to stop you either.

“And you,” you said, turning to the second male lead, who had been standing there like a silent, brooding statue, just staring at the two of you menacingly. “What’s your excuse? You came in here with all this brooding energy, acting like you’re about to duel someone over the fate of the heroine. But seriously, what’s with your whole tragic hero act? Is your personality just permanent raincloud or do you practice that in the mirror?”

Vil covered his mouth with his hand, and you could see his shoulders shaking slightly. He was losing the battle to keep his composure, but he was trying—for dignity’s sake, of course.

Epel, on the other hand, had completely given up. The moment you’d said “sad banana,” he had fallen off his chair, doubled over in laughter, his face red as he clutched his sides. You weren’t sure if it was your insults or the second male lead’s thunderstruck expression, but either way, Epel was in hysterics.

“I—” the heroine’s friend sputtered, but you interrupted her again.

“Oh, and you.” You looked her up and down with a condescending smirk. “You really want to talk about fashion? Because I don’t know who told you that wearing ruffles with plaid was a look, but they were wrong. You’re out here looking like you got lost in a fabric store and fell into the clearance bin.”

This time, Vil snorted. Actually snorted. The sound was so out of place that it almost derailed your tirade, but you powered through, buoyed by his reaction.

The second male lead looked like he was ready to explode, his aura now bordering on murderous. “You can’t just—”

“Oh, can’t I?” you shot back, crossing your arms. “Because it seems like all of you came in here with the intent to stir up drama over something as trivial as a constructive remark. If you’re going to go to war over fashion, at least wear something that doesn’t look like you picked it out with your eyes closed. Scratch that, I couldn’t imagine picking that up even with my eyes closed.”

By now, Epel was rolling on the floor, laughing so hard he could barely breathe. “C-couldn’t pick it out… with your eyes closed!” he wheezed, slapping his knee.

Vil, despite himself, let out a low giggle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Well,” he said, his voice steady but filled with mirth, “I suppose subtlety was never your strong suit.”

The heroine’s friend, now red-faced and flustered beyond belief, grabbed the second male lead by the arm and yanked him toward the door. “This isn’t over,” she spat, glaring at you. “We’ll see who’s laughing when the heroine—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved dismissively, “when the heroine what? Realizes she’s been pining for someone who can't tell mustard from elegance? Trust me, I’m not worried.”

With that, they both stormed out, slamming the door behind them in a huff of embarrassment and frustration. The second they were gone, you let out a breath and sank back into your chair, grinning at Vil, who was now openly smiling.

“You really didn’t hold back, did you?” Vil said, his amusement evident despite his usual calm demeanor. “I don’t approve of such… crude insults, but I must admit—” his lips twitched— “it was rather effective.”

Epel, still recovering from his laughing fit, managed to haul himself back into his seat, wiping tears from his eyes. “That was… that was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said between gasps for air. “I can’t believe ya said that right to their faces!”

“Glad to be of service,” you said with a grin, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. You couldn’t believe you’d actually said all of that out loud. But judging by Vil’s pleased expression and Epel’s ongoing laughter, it had been worth it.

Maybe surviving this trash novel wouldn’t be so bad after all.

You’d barely had time to process how bizarrely normal your life as the villain’s fiancée had become when the next absurd isekai plot point decided to rear its ugly, trope-filled head again.

It all started at yet another lavish tea party. Honestly, you’d begun to lose track of how many of these events you were forced to attend. They all blurred together into a haze of polite smiles, floral patterns, and far too much sugar.

This time, you were seated next to Vil, who, as always, looked like he had just stepped out of a renaissance painting. You, on the other hand, were trying not to spill tea on the new dress he’d insisted you wear. The dress itself was lovely, of course—Vil had impeccable taste—but the whole setting made you feel like you were constantly walking on eggshells. Especially since she was here. The heroine.

Today, though, you were determined to get through it without any drama. Just smile, nod, and let the heroine do her thing. Easy, right?

Wrong.

Everything had been going smoothly, too. The heroine, in all her sunshiney glory, was seated at the table, surrounded by her usual group of admirers. You had been doing a great job of fading into the background until someone—the hostess, perhaps?—brought up your previous adventures.

“Oh, didn’t you once accompany the Grand Duke to deal with that bandit problem on the eastern border?” the hostess asked, fanning herself with interest. “What a thrilling ordeal!”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, feeling the weight of too many eyes on you. “Well, I wouldn’t say thrilling exactly…” you began, trying to downplay it, but your nerves had other ideas. “I mean, the heroine here was probably off rescuing some poor lost puppy while I was just, you know, holding down the real danger.”

The air went cold.

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. The table fell silent, save for the quiet clinking of teacups being set down. Every eye was on you. The heroine’s wide, eyes blinked at you, full of hurt and confusion. And across from you, the second male lead—Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding—looked like he was ready to leap across the table and strangle you on the spot.

Oh no. Oh no no no. Why did you leave your filter at home?

You opened your mouth to apologize, but before you could, the second male lead slammed his cup down on the table, the porcelain rattling ominously. “You dare insult her honor?!” he roared, rising from his seat like some kind of vengeful storm cloud. “I will not stand for this!”

*Why did I say that?* You cringed internally, face turning a bright shade of crimson. "I-it was a joke—"

“No,” he declared dramatically, pointing a finger at you. “I demand satisfaction! A duel for her honor!”

You were still too stunned to respond, your brain scrambling to make sense of the situation. A duel? Over this? All you’d implied was that the heroine wasn’t exactly… battle-hardened. Surely that wasn’t duel-worthy? This man was acting like you’d called his mother a turnip or something worse.

The heroine, ever the epitome of grace, tried to intervene. “There’s no need for—”

But Mr. Broody wasn’t having it. “No! Her honor has been besmirched, and I shall defend it with my life!”

Vil, who had been watching this spectacle unfold with an expression of mild disgust, finally rose from his chair. His cool gaze swept over the table, landing on the second male lead with all the intensity of a snake about to strike.

“If anyone’s honor has been besmirched,” Vil said icily, “it’s mine. And I will not allow my betrothed to be disrespected by the likes of you.”

You blinked up at Vil, stunned. “Wait, you’re going to duel him? Yourself?”

Vil turned his piercing gaze to you, and though his face remained calm, there was a glimmer of something softer in his eyes. “Of course,” he said. “I would never entrust such a matter to anyone else. Besides…” His lips curled into a smirk. “It’s been a while since I’ve put an upstart in his place.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling a bit light-headed. Was it getting hot in here?

The second male lead, apparently unaware of just how screwed he was, smirked triumphantly. “Very well! Let’s settle this once and for all.”

The duel was set for the next day in your estate gardens. You spent the time leading up to it pacing back and forth in your chambers, wringing your hands in nervous anticipation. Somewhere along the way, you’d decided that you needed to do something—anything—to support Vil. So you had spent hours learning how to embroider a handkerchief, your fingers aching from the effort. By the time you finished, you were practically shaking, but you were proud of the result.

You didn’t expect Vil to be touched, let alone notice that you’d worked so hard. But when you handed him the handkerchief just before the duel, his eyes widened in surprise.

“You made this?” he asked, holding it delicately between his fingers, as if it were some priceless artifact.

You nodded sheepishly. “I figured, you know, for luck. Or to rub it in his face after you beat him. Whichever.”

Vil chuckled, his usually sharp expression softening. “Thank you,” he said, his voice low. He then noticed the small needle marks on your hands and frowned. “You hurt yourself.”

You quickly hid your hands behind your back. “It’s nothing! I mean, I’m fine. Just a few pricks here and there.”

Vil’s expression softened even further, and for a moment, he looked almost… touched. He carefully tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, a small but genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll be sure to put this to good use.”

You didn’t swoon. Well, maybe just a little.

The duel was, in a word, ridiculous.

The second male lead strutted around like a peacock, his sword gleaming in the afternoon sunlight as he swung it dramatically for the small crowd that had gathered. “Prepare yourself, Schoenheit!” he bellowed, pointing his sword at Vil.

Vil, on the other hand, looked utterly unimpressed. He barely glanced at the man before calmly removing his coat and handing it to you. “Hold this, will you?”

You took the coat with a nod, trying not to pass out from how effortlessly graceful he looked even in the midst of preparing for a fight.

The second male lead lunged forward with all the finesse of a drunken ox, his sword clashing loudly against Vil’s. For a moment, it looked like a real duel—until Vil, with a single fluid motion, disarmed the man in one clean strike. The second male lead’s sword went flying, landing in the bushes several feet away with a pathetic thud.

The crowd gasped, and you had to stifle a laugh. It had barely been five seconds, and the duel was already over.

The second male lead stood there, stunned, his hand frozen mid-air where his sword had been. He blinked once, twice, then turned bright red with embarrassment. “W-what?!”

Vil, ever composed, didn’t even break a sweat. He sheathed his sword and gave the man a cold, dismissive look. “This duel is over. Consider your demand for satisfaction... fulfilled. Now, kindly leave before you embarrass yourself further.”

You bit your lip, trying not to giggle as the second male lead sputtered and tried to come up with an excuse, but it was clear to everyone that he had been utterly humiliated. Even the heroine, standing off to the side, looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face.

As the second male lead stumbled off, defeated, Vil turned to you and offered his hand. “Shall we go?”

You took his hand, still trying to process how easily he had won. “You were amazing,” you blurted out, your heart fluttering as you gazed up at him. “Seriously, that was… wow.”

Vil smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Of course I was.” He then leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And I expect a proper reward later for defending your honor.”

Your face went beet red, and you were pretty sure you’d forgotten how to breathe.

Yep, you thought as he led you away, his hand still in yours, surviving this trash novel might not be so bad after all.

It happened at one of those overly extravagant banquets the royal court liked to throw. You spotted Neige from across the room, all bright eyes and an innocent smile. He was the epitome of purity, as if his very presence could summon woodland creatures to frolic at his feet.

And you hated him on sight.

You watched in disbelief as everyone around him melted into puddles of admiration. He was practically glowing, and his overly cheerful, squeaky voice was grating on your ears.

The overly saccharine male lead stood there, looking like a cross between a baby bunny and a sentient cupcake. Everything about him screamed "pure-hearted." You nearly gagged on your drink, hoping no one noticed your grimace.

Vil noticed your sour expression and leaned in. “Is something the matter?”

“That’s him, isn’t it?” you said through clenched teeth. “The one I used to follow around?”

Vil followed your gaze, and for a moment, his lips twitched in the faintest show of amusement. “Yes. That’s Neige.”

You snorted. "I can't believe anyone in their right mind would prefer him over you."

Vil's lips curled into a smirk, and he tilted his head slightly. “Oh? Is that so?” His voice was silky, dangerously low, but you could see the flash of satisfaction behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” you muttered, still glaring in Neige's direction. “I mean, look at him. He’s so… good. And not in a ‘wow, what a decent person’ way. It’s like he’s one bad haircut away from sprouting fairy wings and breaking into song.”

Vil let out a low chuckle, right next to you ear, (Lord, have mercy) the sound sending shivers down your spine. “I never thought I’d hear you speak this way about him. You’ve been fawning over Neige for as long as I can remember.”

You rolled your eyes, throwing your hands up. “That was the old me. The dumb me. I mean, have you seen you?” You gestured dramatically toward him. “How could anyone even look at Neige when you exist?”

Vil was quiet for a moment, watching you intently. His violet eyes glinted with something unreadable, but you could tell he was pleased. Oh, he was very pleased.

“You certainly have changed,” he murmured, the smirk never leaving his lips. “And I must admit, I find it rather… delightful.”

Before you could respond, a very familiar voice rang out from behind you. “Ah! What a beautiful reunion this is! A moment filled with l’amour, sparkling like the stars in the sky!”

You nearly jumped out of your skin as Rook Hunt appeared seemingly out of thin air, his hands dramatically clasped together as he beamed at you both. “I have seen many couples in my lifetime, but none quite so radiant as you two.”

You blinked, trying to recover from his sudden appearance. “Rook… were you just… hiding in the curtains again?”

Rook, ever the dramatist, placed a hand on his heart and smiled wistfully. “Ah, but how could I stay away when the beauty of your love draws me in like a moth to a flame?”

Vil raised an eyebrow. “Rook, you’re not helping.”

“Non, non, mon ami,” Rook insisted, twirling in place with a flourish. “I am merely basking in the glow of what is surely a love for the ages! The way your eyes meet, the subtle tension in the air—it is magnifique!”

You sighed, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help but chuckle at Rook’s antics. Meanwhile, from the other side of the ballroom, Epel was watching the scene unfold with barely concealed amusement. He caught your eye and shot you a grin, raising his glass as if to say, Good luck with this.

But the fun wasn’t over. Oh no. Neige, the human embodiment of a children’s choir, started making his way toward you. As he approached, his bright eyes locked on yours, his smile so innocent and wide that you almost felt bad for what you were about to do.

Almost.

“Good evening!” Neige greeted you, his voice as sweet as sugar. “I don’t believe we’ve had the chance to properly meet.”

You stared at him for a moment, unimpressed. “Yeah, uh-huh.”

Neige blinked, clearly taken aback by your lack of enthusiasm. He probably wasn’t used to people not immediately falling at his feet. “It’s truly wonderful to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you.”

You squinted at him. “Mm-hmm.”

Vil, standing beside you, looked positively elated. You could practically feel the smug energy radiating off of him. He wasn’t even hiding his smile anymore.

Neige continued, oblivious to your complete disinterest. “I’m so glad we’ll have the chance to spend time together in the coming months! I hope we can—”

“Yeah, no, I’m good,” you interrupted, turning away and pointedly ignoring his very existence.

Neige blinked again, looking like a lost puppy. You almost felt a little bad. Almost.

Vil, on the other hand, looked like Christmas had come early. His arm slipped around your waist, his touch gentle. “I must say,” he murmured into your ear, his voice laced with amusement, “I’ve never enjoyed one of these balls quite so much.”

Yup, maybe this novel isn't that trashy after all?

Everytime you think this novel might not be that bad, it manages to prove you wrong.

The day had finally arrived: the Founding Day Ball. The event to end all events, where the kingdom’s most distinguished were honored in a grand ceremony. And, of course, at the top of the list of honorees was Vil, who might as well have been carved into the actual history of the kingdom itself with how perfect he was.

As his partner for the evening, you were dressed to the nines, dripping in elegance you didn’t even know you were capable of. When you caught your reflection in one of the massive ballroom mirrors, you had to do a double-take.

"Who is that?" you whispered, eyes wide. "Oh. It’s me."

Honestly, if there was a chance of impressing anyone here, you were impressed with yourself.

The ceremony went as expected. Vil was awarded the highest honors, his name met with thunderous applause as he gave a speech that left the crowd swooning. You found yourself half-clapping, half-gawking, wondering how this man kept getting more perfect. Like, was he actually human?

But as the evening progressed, the dreaded scene you despised the most crept into the evening, like a bad smell at a gourmet dinner.

After the ceremony, it was time for the opening dance. Naturally, Vil, being the epitome of grace and nobility, was the prime candidate to lead it. You were fully expecting him to ask you, but before he could even turn in your direction, the heroine — yes, that heroine — appeared out of nowhere, like she was materializing straight from the pages of the worst romance novel ever written.

“Vil,” she said in a voice that sounded like honey and broken promises, “I trust you’ll grant me the honor of the first dance.”

You blinked. *Excuse me?*

She said it so confidently, as if it were a foregone conclusion, like she was used to the world revolving around her whims. It was the equivalent of someone just cutting the line in front of you at the store and expecting applause for their audacity.

Vil, for his part, didn’t even flinch. His expression was as cool and elegant as ever, but you could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.

“I’m afraid,” he said, voice smooth and polite, “I already have a partner for the first dance.”

The heroine’s face froze in a way that almost made you choke on your own breath. “W-What?” She blinked rapidly, as if her brain couldn’t process the fact that someone had just told her no.

You, too, were a little stunned, for a seperate. Was she actually planning on throwing a tantrum right now? In public? At a literal state function?

“B-But you always dance with me,” she stammered, voice rising in disbelief, her face turning an alarming shade of pink. “I’m supposed to be your first dance!”

You physically had to stop yourself from snorting. Always? He has never even looked at her for longer than five seconds! You couldn't recall a single time Vil had given her anything beyond basic pleasantries. The only reason she’d be in his line of sight was because she was constantly putting herself there.

Vil’s lips twitched slightly, though whether it was out of irritation or amusement, you couldn’t tell. ��I don’t recall ever dancing with you,” he said calmly, as though she were discussing someone else entirely.

The heroine blinked, clearly taken aback. “W-What?”

Vil’s voice dropped to an even icier tone, leaving no room for misunderstanding. “In fact, I dislike the very idea of it.”

The heroine made a strangled sound behind you, like a baby bird trying to scream.

You looked around the room, half-expecting hidden cameras to pop out, because this had to be a prank. Who acts like this?!

And as you floated onto the dance floor with Vil, you couldn’t help but marvel at the absolute insufferable nature of the scene you’d just witnessed. This was, without a doubt, the moment that solidified your hatred for the trash-tier novel world you’d been trapped in. People like her actually existed here?

Behind you, the heroine stomped her foot like a petulant child, completely ignored by the crowd. It would’ve been almost sad if it wasn’t so ridiculous.

And as you twirled under the chandeliers, feeling Vil’s warmth beside you and the heroine’s tantrum echoing faintly in the background, one thing became crystal clear:

This novel may have been trash, but at least you were the one dancing with the prince of perfection.

It hit you like a ton of bricks one day—completely out of nowhere. You had been sitting in Vil’s study, watching him work. He was meticulously going over some documents, his brow furrowed in concentration, his golden hair falling perfectly in place despite him having been there for hours. You were supposed to be reading through some kingdom protocol book, but instead, your gaze kept drifting over to him.

He’s so… beautiful.

You blinked, the thought suddenly snapping you out of whatever trance you’d fallen into.

Wait…

Your eyes widened. Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

You slammed the book shut, startling Vil from his work as you stood up abruptly. “I-I need some air.”

Vil raised an elegant eyebrow, clearly amused by your sudden panic. “Something the matter?”

“No! Nothing’s the matter!” you said, far too quickly, your voice an octave higher than usual. You stumbled over your chair in your haste to get out of the room, nearly tripping on your own feet. “I just—need to—um—fresh air, yes, exactly!”

Before Vil could say anything else, you bolted from the study and down the hall, your heart racing as though you’d just run a marathon. You darted into the nearest empty room and pressed your back against the door, your mind swirling with confusion.

Am I falling for him?

You slapped a hand over your mouth, horrified by the realization. “No… no, this isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. I’m in love with a character from this awful, brain-numbing novel?”

You slumped against the door, groaning as the full weight of the situation sank in. How could this happen? How could my first true love— you gagged at the phrase —be from this trash novel?

There was no escaping it now. The butterflies in your stomach every time Vil looked your way, the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled, the fact that you wanted nothing more than to be close to him… it was all painfully obvious.

You buried your face in your hands. “I’m going to die. I’m going to die of embarrassment in this ridiculous world.”

And the worst part? It wasn’t even one of the good isekai novels. You’d somehow gotten stuck in what could be considered objectively the worst one, and yet here you were, head over heels for a character who—against all odds—turned out to be the most amazing person you’d ever met.

“Oh god,” you muttered to yourself, sliding down to the floor, your head falling back against the door with a thud. “I'm in love with Vil. I’m doomed. Completely doomed.”

“Mon Dieu! What a revelation!” a voice suddenly rang out from the shadows.

You yelped, whipping around to see none other than Rook Hunt—perched in the corner of the room like some kind of overly dramatic bird of prey, his hat casting a mysterious shadow over his eyes. His entire being radiated excitement, and you swore you saw actual sparkles in the air around him.

“Rook?! How long have you been there?!”

“Long enough, my dear,” he said, voice hushed with reverence, as though you had just confessed your deepest, most tragic secret. “Ah, love! The torment, the longing! The exquisite despair you must be feeling!” He took a step forward, eyes gleaming with unbridled enthusiasm. “But fear not, mon ami, for I, Rook Hunt, shall be your faithful cupid! Together, we shall make Vil see the truth of your affections!”

You blinked, stunned. “Uh… I’m not sure that’s—"

“Ah, but you must!" Rook declared, swooping down to kneel dramatically before you. “Love, once realized, must be pursued with all one’s passion and determination! Do not let this opportunity slip through your fingers like sand in the wind! I shall assist you!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but the sheer intensity of his expression made you falter. Rook was looking at you like this was the most important mission of his life.

Honestly, what did you have to lose at this point?

With a deep, exhausted sigh, you muttered, “Fine. Fine! I’ll do it. Help me, Rook.”

Rook’s grin stretched so wide it was borderline terrifying. “Excellent! This will be an adventure for the ages!” Before you could even process what you’d agreed to, Rook leaped to his feet and clapped his hands together. “But we will need more help. A certain someone with a youthful spirit and just enough mischievousness to add that je ne sais quoi to our plans.”

Oh no.

Cue Epel.

“What the hell are you ropin’ me into?” Epel grumbled as Rook dragged him into your predicament not five minutes later.

“I have volunteered you for a most noble cause, mon petit pomme,” Rook said, not even breaking stride as he swept Epel into the room. “Our dear friend here is head over heels for our Vil, and we are going to help them win his heart”

Epel paused, blinking at you in disbelief. “Wait, Vil? That Vil?” He gestured vaguely in the direction of where Vil’s office was.

“Yes, that Vil,” you said flatly, already regretting every life decision that had led you to this point.

Epel gave you a dubious look. “And you agreed to let Rook help you?”

You groaned, dragging a hand over your face. “Don’t remind me.”

“Alright, fine. I’m in.” Epel shrugged, a wicked grin creeping onto his face. “If we’re gonna do this, we’re gonna do it big.”

Thus began the most absurd, over-the-top, and borderline catastrophic schemes in an attempt to prove your love to Vil Schoenheit.

It started innocently enough. You wanted to make Vil his favorite tea. Simple, right? But Rook insisted that it couldn’t just be any tea. No, it had to be presented with an air of mystery and allure.

“Bring it to him while reciting a sonnet of devotion!” Rook suggested. “Declare your admiration with each step, so that he understands the depth of your feelings!”

“I’m not reciting a sonnet, Rook.”

Epel, on the other hand, was far more pragmatic. “Or you could just… write him a note and leave it with the tea?”

That seemed normal. Rational. You’d take Epel’s advice. So, you snuck into Vil’s room, left the tea and a note on his desk, and slipped out before anyone noticed.

The next morning, Vil eyed you suspiciously over breakfast. “Did you leave tea in my study last night?”

You nodded, trying to play it cool. “Yeah, I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Vil’s eyes narrowed, but you swore you saw the corner of his lips twitch into the faintest smile. “I see. How thoughtful.”

Then came Operation: Compliment Vil at Every Opportunity.

Rook, of course, insisted you be poetic. “Tell him his beauty rivals the very stars in the sky!”

“I’m not saying that.”

Epel chimed in with a much more straightforward approach: “Just tell him his hair looks nice. It’s always nice.”

But Rook’s enthusiasm was contagious, and before you knew it, you found yourself blurting out, “Your radiance is blinding today, Vil! Truly, I must shield my eyes from such ethereal beauty!”

Vil, who had been in the middle of inspecting his reflection, froze. His eyes darted to you, and he gave you a strange look.

“Are you… feeling alright? Did you perhaps get bitten by a stray Rook?”

You shook your head vigorously, your face heating up from how ridiculous you sounded. “Totally fine! Just… appreciating your beauty! Yep. Normal stuff.”

Vil didn’t say anything, but you could see a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. He looked amused—and maybe a little pleased—but more than anything, he seemed confused.

At least he didn’t think you’d lost your mind. Yet.

You were convinced this novel had it out for you from the beginning, but this? This was a new low. The memory loss trope, the final attempt to make your life as ridiculous as possible, had arrived—right on schedule.

You knew how it was supposed to go. You’d hit your head (a complete accident, obviously), wake up with no memory of Vil, and immediately make the worst decisions possible, like falling for that knockoff prince, Neige. Cue dramatic heartbreak, public humiliation, and eventual abandonment. Classic trashy novel shenanigans.

But apparently, the universe—or whatever cosmic force was in charge of your suffering—had decided to take a vacation after all the work it had been putting in. Because when you opened your eyes and saw Vil leaning over you, worry etched into his perfect face, instead of forgetting him, you were… immediately smitten?

What?

And it didn’t stop there. When he took your hand in his, gently kissing your knuckles in that heartbreakingly tender way, it was like a light switch flipped. Your memories came rushing back, completely bypassing the whole convoluted plot about amnesia and bad decisions.

Because of course in this disaster of a novel, the solution to everything was true love's kiss. The most overdone, eye-rolling cliché in the history of romance, and yet here you were, living through it.

You almost laughed out loud. Of all the tropes this novel had thrown at you—evil fiancées, jealous heroines, duels for honor—this had to be the funniest. It was as if the universe had taken one look at your situation and said, “You know what? Let’s skip the suffering and go straight to the ridiculous happy ending.”

True love’s kiss. Really. This novel is mocking me at this point, you thought, fighting the urge to scream. But hey, at least you didn’t have to deal with more drama. And as Vil’s concerned gaze softened into a relieved smile, you couldn’t help but think that, maybe, this was one trope you didn’t mind after all.

You'd almost given up on confessing. Maybe you'll just live like this forever, your fate was sealed. The novel clearly doesn't want you to tell him how you feel.

But there was another ball (because apparently that's the only place that nobility had be at in this novel. What was this? the 108th ball of the year?) You'd decided that you'll ask him for a stroll under the moonlight and just tell him.

Of course, the novel is not on your side. What's new?

The ball was going well—well, for you and Vil, anyway. You’d just finished dancing, and he looked absolutely stunning, as usual. You were basking in the afterglow of all the whispered praise and envious stares. That is, until you overheard someone bad-mouthing Vil.

Of course, it had to be the heroine’s best friend, who was apparently using this grand occasion to air her grievances.

“I just don’t understand why Vil is always so cold to her,” she whined, loud enough for everyone within a three-mile radius to hear. “She’s the saintess! She deserves kindness and adoration, not disdain.”

Cue the dramatic gasps from the crowd. Ah, here we go.

You shot Vil a look, but he merely shrugged, rolling his eyes. He clearly didn’t want to start any trouble. But you? Oh, you were about to flip the table on these idiots.

“Excuse me,” you began, stepping forward, the crowd parting like the Red Sea as you made your way over. “I couldn’t help but overhear your incredibly loud complaints about my fiancé.”

The heroine’s best friend froze, clearly not expecting you to get involved. You smiled sweetly, but your eyes were throwing daggers.

“Let me set the record straight. Vil isn’t cold to her because she’s the ‘saintess,’” you air-quoted the title, “He’s cold to her because she’s an insufferable brat who’s so used to getting her way that she throws a tantrum every time someone says ‘no.’”

More gasps from the crowd. You could see Neige stiffening across the ballroom, already sensing where this was going. But there was no stopping you now.

“And don’t get me started on you,” you pointed at the best friend, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re out here defending her honor like you’re some knight in shining armor when, let’s be real, you’re just as bad. You fawn over her like a lost puppy, expecting her to shower you with praise when all you do is enable her delusions.”

Vil, somewhere behind you, was probably trying not to laugh. But you weren't done.

“And as for your precious Neige over there?” you tilted your head toward the prince-wannabe, who was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second. “He’s not some perfect angel either. He’s just a guy with an unsettling talent for showing up at the most convenient times, with that same doe-eyed, clueless expression, making everyone feel sorry for him.”

You didn’t stop at Neige.

"And as for you," you said, spinning toward the brooding Duke of the North, the infamous second male lead, who had been leaning against a pillar, looking every bit the tall, tormented, handsome cliché. “You’re not fooling anyone either. You’re the king of melodramatic entrances. Always lurking in the shadows, trying to look mysterious, but really, you’re just sulking because no one’s paying attention to you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you brooding? Again? Let me guess, you’re thinking about some dark secret that you’ll drop at the most inconvenient moment to make things worse for everyone, right?” You mimicked his deep, serious voice. “‘It’s the burden I must bear… alone.’” You threw your head back in mock agony, hands dramatically placed on your chest.

He straightened up, clearly offended, but you didn’t give him the chance to speak.

“And stop pretending like you’re some tragic hero,” you added, lowering your voice with a sharp edge. “You’re just a guy with commitment issues who sacrifices himself because you can’t handle the fact that the heroine doesn’t want you. Let it go.”

There was dead silence. You half-expected a chandelier to drop just for the dramatic effect. Even Vil had to look away for a moment, probably to hide the fact that he in tears, about to burst out laughing.

The heroine was slack-jawed, her best friend looked like she wanted to melt into the floor, and Neige… well, Neige just looked confused. As always.

Satisfied, you dusted off your hands and turned back to Vil, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and awe, as if he’d just witnessed some divine intervention.

You let out a satisfied huff and turned to leave. "Come on, Vil, I can't stand to be in the same room as these second-rate characters any longer, let's bounce"

Once outside, you saw Vil was still recovering, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think you may have traumatized half the ballroom.”

“Good,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “They deserved it. Especially that brooding Duke. ‘I sacrifice myself for the greater good.’ Ugh, give me a break.”

Vil chuckled, sliding his arm around your waist. "Still, you didn’t have to go to such lengths for me."

You stopped in your tracks, spun around, and looked him dead in the eye. “Of course I did! I love you, Vil. I couldn’t just sit there and let them trash you like that.”

The moment the words left your mouth, you froze. Oh. Well. There it was.

Vil’s eyes widened, a rare, unguarded expression crossing his face. For a moment, he just stood there, taking in your words. Then, without a word, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you, soft but sure, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as you had.

When he pulled back, his smile was the softest you’d ever seen. “You love me,” he repeated, almost like he couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, a bit breathless from both the confession and the kiss. “Yes, Vil. I love you. Even with all your ridiculously high standards and obsession with skincare.”

Vil laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Vil pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on your waist, and asked with a quiet, almost teasing tone, "Well then, since you love me so much... should we get married?"

You blinked, your brain taking a second to catch up. "Wait—what? Married? Like, right now?" You stared at him, heart racing, before suddenly, an idea lit up your face like a firework. “Oh my god, yes! Let’s do it. Let’s get married ASAP. Like, today. Right now. Do we even need a ceremony? We can find an officiant and—boom—done. Just tell me where to sign!”

Vil’s eyes widened, taken aback by your sudden enthusiasm. “Are you… serious?”

You grabbed his hand, absolutely buzzing with energy. “Of course, I’m serious! Why wait? This dumbass universe keeps throwing garbage tropes at us, and honestly? Getting married right now is the perfect way to flip the script! Take that, fate!"

Before Vil could respond, an overly excited voice erupted from behind a nearby pillar. “Oh là là! Mon cœur can hardly handle this romance!” Rook leaped out from the shadows, practically sparkling with joy, as if he had been waiting for this very moment all his life. "The passion! The declaration of love! And now, a spontaneous wedding? Magnifique!”

“Rook!?” Vil’s voice was a mix of amusement and exasperation. “Have you been spying on us?”

“Spying?” Rook gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Non, non, Vil! I was merely ensuring your well-being as any devoted friend would!” He gave a wink, clearly pleased with his role as an unintended audience.

“Me too!” Epel poked his head out from behind another pillar, grinning sheepishly. “I mean, who’d wanna miss out on somethin’ like this? Y’all are gettin’ married!”

Vil let out a long, tired sigh, but you could see the faintest smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can’t believe this is happening,” he muttered.

“Oh, it’s happening,” you said, grabbing his arm again and dragging him forward. “We’re doing this, and it’s going to be the best wedding in this entire stupid book, Rook, Epel, you’re both invited. Wait, scratch that, you’re both in the wedding party now!”

“C’est incroyable!” Rook twirled dramatically, hands clasped together, already imagining his outfit for the occasion. “I shall be the most loyal and stylish groomsman! Oh, l’amour!”

“And I get to wear somethin’ fancy, right?” Epel asked, already envisioning something much cooler than his usual attire.

Vil was now fully grinning, his initial surprise turning into genuine amusement as he looked at you with sparkling eyes. “You really are something else.”

“Yeah, and now I’m gonna be your something else forever.” You beamed up at him, still holding onto his hand like you might drag him to the altar yourself right now.

“Well then,” Vil sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Let’s get married.”

Before you could even start plotting where to drag Vil to find someone to officiate, Rook suddenly gasped, clasping his hands together dramatically. "Mon dieu! How could I forget? I am more than prepared for this moment!"

You and Vil exchanged puzzled looks. "What are you talking about, Rook?" Vil asked, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow.

Rook grinned, remviong his hat and and dramatically pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "Behold!" he announced, waving the paper with a flourish. "A certified license to officiate weddings. I took the liberty of acquiring it long ago, knowing that one day I’d be the one to unite you and your beloved. C’est le destin!"

“You’re… licensed?” Vil blinked, looking at Rook like he had officially lost it. "And you're walking around with the license in your hat?"

Rook nodded with a dazzling smile. “Why yes, I’ve been preparing for this glorious day! Every flower petal, every gust of wind, every glance of love I’ve witnessed between you both has been leading to this fated moment!” He struck a pose, the parchment still dramatically held aloft.

You stared at him, then back at Vil. "Okay, I know this is ridiculous, but honestly? This is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard, and I kind of love it. Let's just let him do it."

Vil put a hand to his forehead, trying to suppress a chuckle. "Are we really doing this?"

“Yes!” you declared, squeezing Vil's hand. “If we’re going full chaos, we’re going all the way. Rook, officiate the hell out of this wedding!”

Epel, watching the entire spectacle, burst into laughter. “Only in this house, I swear…”

Rook practically sparkled with joy, bouncing on his feet. “Oh là là, it will be my greatest honor! I’ve been rehearsing my officiating speech in front of the mirror for months”

“Months?” Vil repeated, a mix of disbelief and exasperation in his tone.

“Mais oui! Every day, I’d wake up and say, ‘Today could be the day!’” Rook sighed dramatically, already tearing up. “And here we are. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Now, shall we begin? I have the vows prepared, unless you have your own?”

You leaned into Vil, barely holding back laughter. “I have zero regrets about this. Absolutely zero.”

Vil sighed again but couldn’t stop smiling. “Only you could make something this absurd seem perfect.”

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay, this became way longer than I expected it to be but to be fair, i was on an extreme caffeine high and i'd just finished an assignment that had been beating my ass

also sorry for the neige slander, I don't hate him but vdc broke me

#Vil x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #au: nobility #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #trash novel chronicles #fem reader

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whorelaud · 6 months ago

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꒦꒷ 𓈒 𓈒 𓈒 dirty little secret ¡

pairing police officer!bfb!Jun-ho x brat!reader

summary Jun-ho catches you red handed, what other way to teach you a lesson than to take advantage of the situation and arrest you, then fuck the attitude out of you?

warnings smut, unprotected p in v, public sex, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, praise & degradation, jun-ho putting you in handcuffs, car sex (against it), mention of reader briefly smoking

Someone like yourself should not accompany Jun-ho's head as one frequently does. Yet, there he was, leisurely stroking his hard cock, while reminiscing over the sheepish smile you flashed him earlier, one that shall be deemed innocent, not something he fantasizes about at the dim of midnight.

He tried, he really did strive to keep a distance, avoid the proximity of your touch when your arm in the slightest bit brushes over his, constantly reminding himself that you were forbidden, someone he could merely admire from afar, as you were his best friend's little sister.

Jun-ho oughts to respect his friend's wishes, aware how much he cared for you, never missing a chance to scold you whenever you'd engage in any malice acts. Jun-ho would sit back and watch, oddly entertained by your witty attitude, and the way your face would twist with venom, the action so attractive, he fought the urge to arrest you for it.

It was a dirty, filthy fantasy, the desire to fuck you senseless while you desperately grind down on his cock, to put handcuffs on you and pound into you from behind, where he'd see your ass bounce with each thrust stretching your needy hole. However, all he could do was stroke himself and pretend it was your little fingers doing it instead, in hopes of it actually happening, well aware you were out of his league, way out of his orbit.

That escalated, when he randomly spotted you in the middle of the woods while he was on duty. He frowned upon seeing you tangled in a bush, with a lit blunt firmly in between your lips. He hesitated over approaching you, doing it with haste, as he deliberately exited the car, afraid he was mistaking you for someone else, but no, it was you.

He could recognize you from a mile away, not even the bush of weed covering the majority of your face could change that. The boy aimed the flashlight in your direction, halting before he muttered your name, causing you to freeze in your spot.

The lighter in your hold drops to the floor, leaving you fisting nothing but your manicured fingernails as they dug into the flesh. Your blood ran cold, and you suddenly felt helpless, as a rush of embarrassment washed over you.

Your eyes fluttered shut, hoping this would be a dream, one of your stupid little thoughts, but no, it was really him; Jun-ho. Yeah, you're screwd.

Why did he of all people have to see you like this; when you do idiotic stuff out of pure stress. You've been overwhelmed the whole day, uncapable of cheering up, till you randomly found a joint lying around in your drawer, leading to you tippy toeing out of the house, and heading towards your go-to place when you wanted to smoke.

Typically, no cops hung around the area, but today, life had other plans for you, ones not so bad.

"Is that you?" He continued his unfinished sentence from earlier, gaze shifting down to the joint you smushed to the floor. "What are you doing here?"

"Jun-ho!" You squealed with fake excitement, stumbling as you stood to your feet. "What are you doing here?"

"Jus' doing my job, an' you?" One of his brows curled with suspicion, hand finding the curve of his hip. "What's a girl like you doing out here? Aren't you afraid something might happen to you?"

"A girl like me? C'mon, you think I can't handle myself?" you scoffed, tone hinted with sarcasm. You dusted the dirt off your skirt, leaning down with a purpose, in hopes of Jun-ho stealing a glance at your pink lace-panties, covering nothing, and exposing the shell of your ass. "Besides, you're the one who looks afraid."

"Yeah, obviously," he admitted with shame, stammering out of frustration. "What will your brother say when he knows you're out at such a late hour?"

"Relax, old man, I'll be fine." You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Unless you decide to snitch on me..."

That shoots blood through his veins, clenching his jaw over your attempt to get under his skin. He knows what you were doing, aware of your intentions to mess with him, and fool his already hazy brain into thinking your tone was flirtatious.

"Get in the car," he demanded, dismissing you with his chin as he took a few steps in your direction, eyes narrowing when he took a whiff of the stiff air. "Were you smoking?"

"No." You swiftly shook your head, though your tense expression gave the lie away.

"Yes you were," he insists, directing the flashlight to your feet, and bending down when he spotted the freshly lit blunt now flattened to the floor. "Have you not learned your lesson? How many times did your brother tell you not to smoke? Marijuana, of all things."

"It's one time thing!" You exclaimed, throwing your arms up in the air. "Don't hold it against me, I was stressed. Now, please don't tell my brother, you know how he gets when he's angry."

"You think I'll let you off easily?" He muttered, statement somewhat threatening. "I can arrest you for this, you know drugs are illegal, right?"

"But you won't," you tried to cut through the tension heaving the air, attempt falling short when it didn't crack a smile out of the latter. "You're not going to arrest me for that."

"Try me." He clicked his teeth, standing with his chest to your back. He hesitated to reach for your arm, fingers deliberately clutching around your wrist, forcing your forearm to the low of your back.

Jun-ho repeated the action with your other hand, a breath knocking out of your chest when the sound of a click erupted through your ears, ringing as he locked the handcuffs in place, loose yet firm around your wrists.

"Wait, you're being for real?" Your eyes widened with shock, an inaudible gasp escaping your throat when he led you towards the car, using the arm to your shoulder to push through the muddy road. "Get these off of me, this is not funny, Jun-ho!"

"Never said it was." He snorted, pinning you to the hood of the car, and fumbling through his pockets to seek the keys hidden in there. "You've been such a bad girl, need someone to do somethin' abour it."

Your stomach churns with butterflies, somehow turned on by the statement. His tone, it was low, hushed, full of lust deep under all the lies he'd force through his teeth.

Jun-ho is hot, you weren't one to deny that, however, your insides stirred with more than passing emotions that confuse you whole everytime he was around. Heat radiated off your entire body, the in between your legs specifically, and your knees went jelly, seizing control of your body once you leaned down, till your chest pressed to the hood of the car.

The action earns a scowl out of the brunet, feigning oblivion to the way his cock twitched in his pants when his gaze landed on your lace panties, now peaking from underneath your skirt. The scene left little to the imagination, he wanted nothing more than to pull the thin fabric of your underwear to side, and pound into you till you no longer were able to coherent normal words out; only able to remember his name through your fuzzy, fucked out brains.

"What are you doing?" He questioned, forcing his eyes back on your face, bent to the side as you tried to steal a glimpse at him from over your shoulder.

"Obeying your orders," you mumbled, "I've been a bad girl, officer, need you to do something about it."

You wiggled your ass around, till the material of your skirt rid up, revealing the plush flesh hidden underneath. The faint moonlight lightly beamed over the skin, creating a small shadow that would've gone unnoticed if Jun-ho's gaze wasn't burning into your soul.

"Want me to do something about it?" He repeated through a breath, voice shaky, desperate like a loser getting his dick wet for the first time. "Fuck, you can't pull shit like this an' expect me to hold back."

"Don't hold back." You whispered, lips gaping in a moan when his leg pressed to your heat, patience wearing thin as he resisted the urge to tear your panties apart. "You want this too, don't you?"

"Quit talkin'," He grunted, hand instantly landing on your ass. He almost shuddered, squeezing the fatty skin in between his fingers, then using the pressure of the touch to spread your cheeks out, and fix his gaze on the thin fabric of your panties now drenched with your juices. "Fuck, look at you, such a wet mess for me. Is this turning you on, huh? You enjoy getting humiliated to filth?"

You mewled at the words, almost yelping when his fingertips grazed over your clothed clit, instantly growing sensetive from the touch. Jun-ho was fully hard now, the fabric of his pants growing tight.

The sight was out of the world, better than his deepest fantasies, and the pornos he jerked off to while imagining you instead. Your pussy was calling out his name, craving to be touched, by him and him only.

Jun-ho did not hesitate to drop to his knees, hot breath fanning over the flesh, as he leisurely tugged your panties down, letting them fall once they were loose around your knees. His fingers then travelled to your sides, clutching the waistband of your skirt, and using the elastic to push it up until it's levelled with your waist.

Goosebumps broke out across your body when his thumb found your slick folds, gliding it from your entrance to your clit, with the purpose of spreading your juices around.

You were so wet, he could easily slide a finger inside, and that thought alone had no reason making him this hard, underwear wet with a patch of pre-cum.

"You need to be taught a lesson." He mouthed, lips mere inches away from your cunt. "So desperate and needy for me."

"Mhmm." You hummed out, eyes falling shut when he planted an open-mouthed kiss to the back of your thigh. "'That feel good."

"Yeah?" He hushed out, littering wet, sloppy kisses to your thighs, trailing a path up to the inner part connecting to your folds. His thumb relaxed over your sensitive nub, leaving you no time to process the gesture before positioning his mouth to your folds.

Your body jerked with pleasure, hands grasping into nothing as they sat in place beneath the fabric of your skirt, the sensation of his tongue causing you to crumble, as he searched through your folds like a man starved.

"Fuck!" You whined, arching your back to chase after the fraction of his tongue swirling down from your entrance, to your clit.

"There you are, that's my good girl." He muffled against your soaked cunt, sucking and nibbling on your sensitive nub, too drunk on your pussy juices to comprehend his surroundings, nor the fact that you were still in public. "Such a pretty pussy, only for me to fuck and worship."

A thrill of excitement rushed through your insides, the idea of getting caught increasing your arousal. Jun-ho was no good guy, but he wasn't a bad person either. He did his utmost to follow the rules; however, he was willing to risk it all, lose his job just to have you trembling underneath him while he fucks your needy hole with his tongue.

Jun-ho's tongue swirled through your folds, now mixed with your arousal and his spit. He leisurely began increasing the pace, slowly but surely, till it was no longer bearable, with your own climax building up.

He licked a stripe of your entrance, tongue moving up and down, till his mouth landed on your clit. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your nub, making you yelp everytime his teeth would graze over the sensitive flesh. The latter took your fuzzy state for granted, flicking his tongue against your clit, overstimulating you whole, and spiraling a rush of adrenaline through your veins.

"Jun-ho!" You mewled out, blinking through hooded eyes. You were sure bruises formed around your wrists by now, the repetitive contact of skin creating an uncomfortable, yet pleasurable sensation. "I'm so– I'm so cl–"

Your statement was soon interrupted when Jun-ho suddenly halted, stepping back to steal a glance at your achy cunt, now coated with his spit, as some of it trickles down your legs with a purpose.

"Don't." He warned, giving your ass a squeeze, using the force of the gesture to tumble himself up. "Don't you dare fuckin' come, you hear me? I'm not done with you."

"Well then hurry up." You coaxed through a breath, chest pressing against the hood of the car, making you feel dirty. "What are you waiting for?"

"Relax, doll, don't you want me to take care of you?" Jun-ho questioned, tone teasing, full with cockiness. "Wanna feel your desperate pussy clenching around me, y'know how long I'been waiting for that?"

Jun-ho wasted no time, unbuckling his belt, and messily undoing the buttons to his pants. He barely managed to tug the material down, striving to get it off with one of his hands, all while still squeezing and kneading the fatty flesh of your ass.

"So fuckin' pretty n' perfect, hell, I can't believe I finally have you to myself." He grunted as your ass perked up, chasing after the fraction of his fingers. "Mhm, such a bratty little slut, using me to get off, huh? You know we can't be doing this."

"No one will know," you hushed out, teeth digging through your bottom lip. "Jus' please– do something."

That was the only assurance he needed. Jun-ho pulled down his underwear, freeing his throbbing cock from the tight material. He was rock-hard, it was starting to hurt, tip glistening with pre-cum that kept leaking out.

He lined his dick with your entrance, the sensation earning an audible gasp out of you, though he only inserted the tip inside, going in leisurely. He stroked his cock up and down, your hole, until it was coated with a glossy, wet layer.

"Fuck," he hissed, lips parting with a shuddered exhale, watching as your cunt clenched around nothing, practically begging to have him inside you. The sight consumed his brain, eating at him alive. He bunched his shirt in a fist, positioning one of his hands on your hip, the gesture a mere act of closure. "Such a needy slut, begging to be fucked."

He gave you no time to process the statement, thrusting his cock inside in one go. It caught you off gaurd, yelping as he filled your insides, slowly pumping in and out your hole, just until you got used to how big he was.

"So big..." you trailed off, spit salivating in your mouth. "Feel' s' good."

"Yeah?" He spoke through an exhale, heat radiating off his entire figure. He continues pounding into you, spreading your cheeks out to get a better view of your pussy as it squelches around him. "You like that? Wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Mhm." You desperately nodded, letting your eyes force shut. "Please, please, please, Jun-ho pleaseeeee."

"Keep moaning my name, baby." He muttered through gritted teeth, reaching for your waist from beneath your shirt. "Show me who you belong to."

Both of you were too far gone to care about anything other than his cock as he buries himself inside you. His thrusts increased in pace, and you could not have felt any better, he was so good at what he does, you almost felt jealous of all the other girls he's done this with.

Jun-ho's arms sneaked their way around your waist, applying enough pressure to pull you up, until your back pressed to his firm chest. The gesture gave the latter more access to your entrance, now able to insert himself deeper, thought it felt impossible.

His hands kept busy throughout the entire time, fingers landing on your cleavage, before he tucked down the collar of your shirt, to reveal your chest, freeing out your tits to the chilly air. He rolled and pinched at your nipples, kneading it afterwards to soothe away any pain.

Jun-ho's cock pulsed in and out of you, loud breaths filling the air, the atmosphere heavy with desire. He knew exactly what to do, how to please you, how to make you forget the guilt washing over your chest. You couldn't believe it; your dirty fantasies finally coming true, though it didn't feel real whatsoever.

"Such a whore, offering yourself to me in public?" He stifled out a snort, fisting your hair in between his large digits. "Want me to fuck you here so everyone could see how desperate you are? Hmm, I guess you're not such a good girl after all."

Your climax approached within every passing second, his hard cock pounding into you doing things to you. It was out of this world, no words could describe the rush of pleasure you were experiencing in the moment.

"You' close?" He asked, noticing how shaky your legs got under him. "Come for me, sweet girl."

The following few seconds fixed on you, not long before you came undone, announcing your own orgasm once your legs trembled with pleasure, overstimulated by the fraction of his cock deep and raw inside you.

"Mhm, there she is." He grunted in your ear, walking you through your high, and his own arousal. "Wanna finish inside you, and make a mess out of your tight pretty hole."

"Please." You obliged, throwing your head back, with one of your hands landing over his; where it laid flat on your chest.

His thrusts grew wet and sloppy, coming inside you once his cock kisses your cervix, painting your walls white with his cum. The warmness of his sperm filled up your hole, earning a ragged breath out of the latter, finishing with a hefty groan.

He took a pause, a smile tugging at his lips when his gaze shifted to you. You scoffed at the cocky grin smothered all over his face, suddenly growing flustered, as heat flushed your face.

"Why are you staring?" You asked, tiredly fluttering your eyes shut.

"No reason," he dismissed, caressing the skin around your waist. "You jus' look pretty."

"Shut up." You attempted to shove him off, action falling short when your attention trailed to your cuffed wrists. "Can you get these off of me?"

"Hmm," he trailed off, bending down to level his face with yours. He planted a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, whispering out his next words.

"Only if you say please."

It felt like a dream; a fever dream. And if this did truly happen, no one were to find out, especially your brother, that's for sure.

#hwang jun ho #hwang jun ho x reader #hwang jun ho x you #hwang jun ho x y/n #hwang junho #hwang junho x reader #hwang junho x you #hwang junho x y/n #squid game #squid game imagine #squid game blurb #squid game x reader #squid game x you #squid game fanfic #squid game season 2 #hwang jun ho smut #hwang jun ho squid game #squid game smut

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bbrissonn · 2 months ago

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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝟒 𝐮 - 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ synopsis: in which you'll always be jack's only love, even if he might not be yours

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ warning: angst, unrequited love, happy ending !! swearing, underage drinking, slight nsfw but no direct scene, read at your own risk NOT PROOF READ

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ pairing: jack hughes x luke!bestfriend!reader

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ disclaimer: two idiots in love is probably my new favourite thing to write cause why are you so stupid??? also the end is kinda wack, but i'd totally be down to make a part 2!!

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ wc: 13.3k

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ reader is born in summer !!

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ inspiered by way too many songs that i can't even remember anymore. i'd say the main ones are party for u (obvi), it ain't me babe, cool about it, back to friends,fresh out the slammer, and ordinary. struggled so hard to pick one for the title but yeah

════ ⋆summer 2017⋆ ════

➻❥ detroit, mich

you remember the first day you ever met the hughes family like it was yesterday. you were a month away from starting high school, and freshly fourteen. you were sitting on the ground of the living room with your friends, all of the attention on grace as she read her text messages out loud. the boy she had crush on for almost a year now finally had the guts to speak to her, and you were all freaking out.

you all gave your input about what she should answer him. it was pure chaos, and if your brother - Jeremy - was home, he would've stormed down the stairs from his bedroom and tell you to keep quiet. but he was out with his friends, and your parents were outside doing whatever.

all of the windows in the house were open, meaning you could hear all of the birds singing, cars driving near your house, people walking in the street. but it was pretty peaceful on your street, you lived in a cul-de-sac after all, so not many people actually came on your street.

that was until you heard a car drive by, and suddenly loud voices could be heard from across the street. you could hear two people laughing, someone whining and who you guessed was their parents scolding them. and a minute later you and all of the girls were kneeling in front of your living room window, trying not to be caught staring by the people outside.

your eyes landed on the 'sold' sign on their yard. they must be the new family. all six of you watched as the parents started taking stuff out of the trunk of their car, when a u-haul truck arrived by their house. then, you spotted the three boys. the oldest one, you guessed since he was the tallest and wore umich gear, shook his head laughing as his mom handed him a couple of boxs. then you spotted the smallest one of them, he was pouting as his father ruffled his hairs slightly before he walked over to also grabbed a box from his mom.

and then your eyes landed on him. his skin was tan, more than his brothers, and his sun bleached dirty blond hair caught your attention. he was wearing a compression shirt, making his muscles even more defined as he also grabbed boxes from the back of the car.

"who the hell is that?" alyssa asked, and you all knew who she was talking about.

"no clue." you answered, your eyes still looking at him. then all of the sudden, the boy looked over at your house, almost like he could feel all your eyes on him. you all quickly ducked out, letting out giggles as grace exclaimed that her boy had responded.

everyone all rushed over to her phone, excited to see what he had said. but you said still, coming back up to take another peek at the family. the boys were now shoving each other as they made their way to the front door, their laughs echoing through the neighbourhood.

"looks like your house is gonna be new hangout spot, huh?" maddy blushed from besides you, she hadn't gone with the rest of the group either. you looked over with a blushing smile, as the two of you let out giggles.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the next day, you were helping your parents bring in the groceries into the house, you were still wearing your baggy sleeping shirt and shorts. your hair was still up in a messy bun, and you had no idea what you looked like. you had gotten woken up by your brother banging at your door, and pretty much got dragged out of bed to come help.

"hi!" you heard a voice say as you brought a bag inside, you didn't bother to turn around at the voice, guessing it was probably one the neighbours coming to talk to your mom. but when you went back outside, your parents were talking with who you recognized as the family who had moved in yesterday. their boys were playing hockey in their driveway, pushing and slashing each other.

"oh, this is our daughter, y/n! sweetie, come say hi." your mom said as you made your way outside. you went and stood next your brother, smiling shyly at the two adults in front of you. "this is ellen and jim, they moved in across the street yesterday."

"hi." you said politely to the two adults, who returned your greeting with one of their own and warming smile.

"y/n/n's starting high school next months, just like your youngest." your dad announced, and their faces light up.

"how fun is that! at least he'll have a familiar face besides his brother at school."

"luke!" the dad, jim, called out, making the three boys stop their play. they all looked across the street, and the little one dropped his stick before making his way across the street to your driveway.

"luke, this is y/n, she's starting high school next month too!" ellen said nodding over at you. there was no way this kid was the same age as you. he looked 12 at max.

"hi." the boy said, flashing you an awkward smile.

"hello."

three days later, you and luke became attached by the hips. and that's how you became an honorary hughes sister. jim and ellen had welcomed you as their own, and their door was always opened for you.

════ ⋆fall 2017⋆ ════

➻❥ detroit, mich

"this is so complicated for no reason!" luke groaned as he let his head fall on the table, making you let out a giggle. the two of you were sitting at the hughes' dinning table, your math homework opened on the table. the house was currently empty, his parents had gone to grocery store, quinn was at university and jack and alex were still at the arena.

"it's really not that hard, lu, you're the one making it too complicated." you laughed, making the boy next to you look at you like a deer in headlights.

"easy for you to say, you're like the smartest person in our grade." he mumbled.

"that's not true."

"it totally is!" he said again, making you roll your eyes. you were both to say something else, when the front door opened and suddenly loud yelling filled your ears. jack was home.

you had never really talked with the middle hughes, always too flustered to say any sentence longer than two words. you also sucked at holding eye contact with the boy. just the thought of his eyes on you made you blush.

"lukey!" jack yelled as he made his way into the house. a couple of his friends were following behind, laughing and hitting each other. "i see your girlfriend's over again."

"i'm not his girlfriend."

"she's not my girlfriend." the two of you said at the same as alex walked over to you and gave you a small side hug. you had gotten close with the billet boy, he always listened to your drama whenever luke simply just did not care, and honestly alex was quite interested in the 9th grade drama.

"yet." jack smirked as he walked over to the fridge. a couple of the boys greeted the two of you before they all disappeared into the basement.

"i'm really sorry about him. he's an idiot." luke apologized, slightly embarrassed.

"it's okay, lu."

"it's just weird, 'cause you have like the hots for him or whatever and then he keeps saying shit like that." the boy grumbled, his words making your eyes grow wide.

"i-i don't have the hots for your brother." you stuttered, making luke look at you like a crazy person.

"right, and i'm good at maths." he said, his tone filled with sarcasm.

"i don't!"

"it's fine, y/n/n. like all of the girls at school are like in love with him, i know all your friends are. and you get all blushy and shy around him, i don't need to be sherlock holmes to figure out you think he's pretty too."

and it was never brought again between the two of you. as the weeks went by, you slowly started becoming more and more comfortable around jack, forming almost full sentences. it was embarrassing really, how flustered you got around him. and what made it worse is that he knew. he never said anything about it, but that same smirk always appeared on his face whenever he talked to you, like he was getting off on seeing you a complete mush.

until christmas came around. you had spent most your winter break over at the hughe's house since most of your friends were on vacation or out of town visiting family. not to mention the huge drama going on at the moment. which is how you ended up sitting with luke at their kitchen island. ellen had made you all some pancakes before she and jim left to go run some errands. quinn was at world juniors, and alex had gone home for a bit, meaning it was just you two and jack in the house.

"wait, so let me get this straight." luke started, placing his fork down as you looked over at him. "anna's had this crush on kaiden since like 5th grade. but he likes alyssa, and she likes him too, but she knew anna like him first." he continued, waiting for your nod of approval. "so now anna and alyssa aren't talking. and everyone's picking sides? that's so stupid."

"that's what i'm saying! like yeah, whatever, anna's liked him forever, but he literally never paid any attention to her. like i love her to death, but she seriously needs to move on. plus, kaiden and alyssa are so cute together."

"you need to find someone to distract her from..." luke started, but you quickly stopped listening to his words as jack made his way down the stairs. luke's back was facing the stairs, so he had no idea you weren't looking directly at him anymore.

jack was wearing nothing but plaid pj pants loosely around his hips, his calvin klein boxers peeking slightly above his pants. his hair was a complete mess, but you didn't care. he looked amazing. he was scrolling on his phone as he made his way over to the kitchen.

"morning." he smiled as he walked over to his little brother and ruffled his hair. luke was quick to push him away. jack then grabbed a plate of his own and sat on the stool next to his brother. "y/n/n." he nodded as he passed you. everyone called you that, you weren't y/n, you were y/n/n, but the way jack said it, the way each letter rolled off his tongue made your stomach turn.

your eyes were still glued to him, and that's when luke realized what was going on. his knee collied with yours under the island, making you wince slightly.

"ow! you idiot!" you exclaimed loudly as he hit your funny bone. you smacked his arm as jack let out a small chuckle.

"lukey, what'd you do to the poor girl?"

"nothing!"

"liar. keep your legs in your space you giant." you grumbled, making luke roll his eyes slightly.

"so, what's going on with anna and alyssa?" jack said after a slight moment of silence. you and luke locked eyes for a slight second, you were silently asking him if he was okay with his brother intruding on your alone time.

"stupid shit is what's going on." luke laughed when the two of you silently agreed on sharing your gossip session with his brother. that's always what you called, just luke's brother. you didn't like using the term 'older brother' because there was something about it that just made him even more attractive to you. so he was just luke's brother.

you and luke spent the next hour debriefing jack on all the drama in your friend group that had taken place since the beginning of high school. you hated to admit it, but things had changed a lot between all of you, and it made you sad. you then realized that maybe all the issues were why you always spent so much with luke. you were never apart of the drama, and you hated always having to pick sides between your friends.

being friends with luke and his friends was easy. they all got along, sure they argued every now and then, but it never lasted more than a couple of hours. you always had a good time with them, and there was never any tension between anyone. sure most of them were guys, but there were always 2 or 3 other girls there, which made you a little more comfortable around them. and there was luke.

he was your soulmate, you were sure of it. platonic soulmate. you never really had to talk to understand what was going on in the other's head. you both just always knew. he always listened to you, gave advice, and you always did the same for him. he was your person.

after that day, you didn't find yourself stuttering so much anymore around jack, and there was no more awkward silence whenever you'd be over watching a movie and luke would go to the bathroom. jack was surprisingly quite interested in your 9th grade drama, and you quickly found out a lot of his teammates too. so, you always updated him whenever the two of you were alone for a slight moment, and he always gave his input.

════ ⋆winter 2018⋆ ════

➻❥ detroit, mich

as the months went by, you started spending less and less time with your friends. your group had officially split into two after winter break, alyssa and kaiden making their relationship official, and everyone found themselves picking sides. not you. you couldn't. you had been friends with some of them since elementary school, and you just couldn't remove any of them from your life.

and it was fine at first. you'd hang out with some of them one day, and then the others the next time. until it became a complete mess. they were all pity towards each other and the fact that you had remained neutral in the breakup annoyed them.

so you got dumped. twice. grace and maddy still talked to you every once in a while, you had known them since kindergarten. you were the og trio. and through the years you added more girls. and now you had no one. it hurt a lot. especially when the superbowl came around. you always went over to lily's house, all of you, while your parents would go out with their friends. but now you were alone.

but the second luke found out about it, he invited you without a second thought. which is how you ended him squished between him and trevor on one of their couches in the basement. you knew a couple of them from school and going to jack's games with luke, or whenever they would come around. and it surprised you how much they enjoyed gossiping.

so, commercial breaks were filled with you dropping all of the gossip you knew about everyone in your town. and this is where the benefit of having an older brother came in. you two were complete opposite really, but you both loved gossiping.

the night was going amazingly, until one of brought up your old friends. they didn't know. it wasn't their fault. you knew they didn't ask you to hurt your feelings or anything. they didn't know. but they all quickly understood when a heavy silent fell in the basement, alex and jack eyeing each other while luke froze besides you. the two older boys didn't know exactly what had happened. but when you had shown up at the hughes' household almost a whole week ago crying your eyes out with luke by your side, they knew it had to be bad.

"we uhm... i'm not their friend anymore." was all you said. and thankfully the break was over and everyone's attention went back to the tv. but there was this weird feeling in the basement. you excused yourself after a couple of minutes, claiming you need to refill your cup.

it was a lie. they all knew it. you didn't even have a cup you had a water bottle which was still half full and that you had left behind. but you didn't care, you needed to get out of there. the air upstairs was cold and fresh. you stood in the kitchen, you hands on the cold countertop as you tried your best to hold back your tears. you weren't their friend anymore, not their not your friends anymore. it pretty much meant the same thing, but the two held different meanings behind them. you still considered them your friends, but they didn't.

"hey, you okay?" you head jack asked. his voice was softer and quieter than usual. it felt odd. you looked over to see him standing a couple of feet away, his eyes filled with something you couldn't quite figure out.

"yeah, i'm fine." you quickly said, wiping away your tears that had barely started falling.

"you're a shit liar, y/n/n." he mumbled quietly, making his way over to you. "you want me to go get luke?"

"no, no, it's fine. i'm fine." you lied, trying your best to put on your best smile. jack was now standing next to you, way too close to you, one of his hands resting on the countertop as his body face you. "he's having a good time, i don't wanna ruin it." you mumbled, shyly turning away from him. the last thing you needed right now was for jack to see you ugly crying. but your heartbeat quickened when one of jack's hands softly grabbed your chin and tilted you head towards him. holy shit. he was close, so fucking close you could feel the hotness of his body radiating onto yours.

"you can talk to me, you know?" he whispered, and you could've sworn you saw him lean in a little closer. his forehead was almost touching yours, your lips only inches apart. "they're childish idiots, y/n/n. don't let them get the best of you like this. you're better than them." he added, referring to your old friends. luke had told you the same thing about a hundred time in the last week, but jack saying it felt so much more different. they were childish, you were mature to him.

"jack..." you trailed off as you saw his eyes look down at your lips before looking back into your eyes.

"y/n." he mumbled, his forehead now leaning on yours. your heart was beating out of your chest, you could feel his breath on your lips. there was no way this was happening. there was no way you were about to kiss jack hughes in the middle of his kitchen.

"jack! dude!" trevor fucking zegras. his voice had barely reached your ears that jack had slipped away, stepping away from you as his friend appear in the kitchen. "holy shit, it's cold up here." the boy said, clueless about the tension between you and the hughes boy at that moment.

you didn't say anything, instead, you just went back to the basement, your heart still beating out of your chest. you almost kissed jack. jack almost kissed you. and there was no one you could tell about it. luke would freak out, and so would alex, and they were the two people you felt you could really talk to right now, besides jack, but you couldn't talk to jack about jack.

when you arrived back downstairs, luke was quick to check on you, but all you could do was nod, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. trevor and jack eventually came back. you stayed quiet for the rest of the night, your arm wrapped around luke's as you leaned your head on his shoulder.

you and jack never talked about the moment in the kitchen. matter of fact, you and jack didn't really talk point. he never approached you, and you didn't feel like being rejected, having already been through enough lately with your old friend group.

════ ⋆summer 2018⋆ ════

➻❥ detroit, mich

it had now been a full year since the hughe's had moved to michigan. you and luke had somehow managed to become even closer over the summer, and when the boy went away to texas for his brother's draft, and then away to his family's lake house for a while, you found yourself getting closer to his friends. they became your friends. a few of them had girl friends, or close friends that were girls, so you had new girlfriends in your life. and it felt so good. your life was completely different than it was a year ago, but you were happy.

your new friends never argued or fought over anything. it was perfect. well, besides the fact you couldn't bare to be in the same room alone with jack, but thankfully you were barely ever put in that position. luke had noticed that something was different between you two, but he never asked about it. he figured you'd tell him eventually if you wanted him to know.

now here you were, starting your sophomore year of high school. which is when you met travis. he was on the school's football and was committed to columbia university. you two had a couple of classes together, and when you had to pair up for a project in science, where you didn't have luke by your side, he took his chance to approach you. a month later, he was your boyfriend.

him and luke got along a little too well for your liking, the two sometimes accidentally leaving you out of conversations, but deep down it warmed your heart. you knew finding a boyfriend who would be okay with how close luke and you were wouldn't be the easiest thing in the world, but travis understood.

and he finally got your mind off of jack. you didn't think about him anymore, at least not in the way you used to. he was now really just luke's older brother. and you were luke's best friend. the three of you quickly became a little trio. they had lots of things in common. they were both committed to d1 schools, both had older brothers who were also in university, and you.

everything was perfect. jack's teammates loved to tease you and travis whenever the two of you would be over to watch whatever sports game was on that night and you would be all cuddled up on the couch. the hughes' house was the main hangout spot for all of kids, quinn even bringing some of his friends from university on the weekends. the house was always packed, and the family loved it.

"where's luke?" jack asked one afternoon as he came back from practice. you and travis were cuddled on the couch, a movie the two boys had been dying to watch playing on the tv.

"bathroom." you answered simply as jack made his way over and threw himself on the opposite end of the couch. "you good?"

"tired." he said, his face stuffed into the cushion of the couch. you and travis looked at each other briefly before you shrugged, deciding to just leave the older boy alone.

jack was enjoying this small moment of silence. he loved his friends, but they could get quite chaotic at times, especially around trevor. and he loved always having them over, but sometimes it was nice to have a little peace and quiet. but his moment soon got ruined when the sound of lips kissing and your giggle echoed in his ears.

he didn't mind your giggle, if anything he loved it. but the kissing noises, that he just couldn't. his head snapped towards the two of you, travis' arm around your shoulder, one of his hands cupping your face while both of yours held his neck, your lips locked together.

"do you not have your own homes where you can kiss?" the hockey player asked brutally. you quickly parted from travis and looked over your shoulder to jack. you had never heard him speak like this around you, he did around his friends, but never around you. his eyes were filled something you couldn't quite describe. but the look on his face said everything. he was pissed.

"sorry." you mumbled before leaning your head onto travis' shoulder. jack's eyes remained on the two of you as he watched your boyfriend press a quiet kiss to your head and pulling you closer into his chest. but he didn't care about travis, he only cared about you, and the fact you weren't snuggled into his chest. he was jealous. he was going to be the first overall pick in the draft next summer, his dream was going to come true. yet he was jealous of a sophomore who would probably never make it to the NFL.

that night back in february constantly played in his mind. you were so close, so fucking close to him. you were right there. and trevor had to mess all that up. sometimes when he couldn't fall asleep he thought about what it would've been like to kiss you. how your small hands would feel on his skin, how your soft skin would feel under his touch. it haunted him. and then he'd started thinking about what would've had happened after the kiss. would you still have distanced yourself from him? or would the two of you maybe be together by now? the second you had disappeared from the kitchen, he hated himself for not telling trevor to fuck off and go back to the basement. you were right there.

"what did i miss?" luke almost yelled, running back into the living room from the bathroom. the boy was obvious to the small tension that had formed in the air, instead jumping on the couch between you and his brother.

a couple of minutes later, jack got up from the couch and made his way to the kitchen. you waited a bit before following him, claiming you were thirsty. when you get to the kitchen, jack was leaning on the counter, phone in his hands as something heated in the microwave.

you observed him for a small instant. his hair was getting longer, it fit him well. and he was starting to grow into his body more and more. he could feel your eyes on him. he knew you were there, he always knew. he tried his best not to look over to you, instead pretending he didn't know.

"are you okay?" you asked quietly, taking small steps towards him. his eyes looked up from his phone and over to you. you were wearing sweatpants but your hoodie, he could recognize it anywhere. you had gotten it from luke's closet, but it was his. luke had borrowed it a while ago and had been insisting that he had returned it to his brother. jack knew he was lying.

"yeah. just... tough practice. i shouldn't have snapped like before, sorry." he mumbled before looking back over at his phone. he couldn't keep looking at you, his hoodie fitting your frame so perfectly drove him insane.

"you sure? luke says you've been on edge for a while." you said softly as you now stood next to him. the last time the two of you had been this close was when you almost kissed.

"just the draft, i guess. big year, you know." he lied, he wasn't stressed about the draft. who else could they possibly pick? but he wasn't about to stand there and admit to you that he's been feeling like shit ever since you got boyfriend. you scoffed lightly at his words, making his head snap towards you.

"be so for real right now, you're gonna go first, everyone knows you will. they'd be stupid not to." you whispered, as jack's eyes starred into yours. the boy of the microwave ending rang through the kitchen, making jack snap back to reality. you had a boyfriend.

"thanks, y/n. but it's still stressful, everyone's watching you know." he said casually as he walked over and grabbed the plate of food he had heated up.

"don't act like you don't love the fact that everyone's only focused on you." you said, making jack smirk slightly as he grabbed a fork from the drawer.

"i do." he smiled as he started making his way back towards you. "also, if you don't mind, before you leave, put my hoodie back in my room not luke's. i've been looking for it for a while." he added as he walked past you and out of the kitchen.

holy shit.

════ ⋆spring 2019⋆ ════

➻❥ detroit, mich

"so, when are you guys leaving again?" you asked luke as you laid on his bed, the boy standing a couple of feet away going through his closet.

"about a month, i'm not sure the exact day." he answered. the NHL draft was coming up, which the whole hughes family was going to be gone for a while. this also meant the boys were constantly in the gym or at the rink, giving that finals push to trying and get picked as high as possible.

"gosh, i can't believe it's almost here, feels like you guys just got here." you sighed, fully resting on your back as luke let out a small frustrated groan. the two of you were gonna go get some ice cream, travis had gone out of the town for the weekend to visit family, so it was just the two of you. and you weren't exactly sure what the boy was doing right now.

"yeah, it's crazy."

"and in two years it's gonna be your turn!" you said with excitement as you pushed yourself up and walked over to the boy.

"well see about that."

"please, you're for sure gonna get picked, it's in your blood, lu." you smiled as he let out another groan, making you a little concerned. "what're you doing?"

"my hoodie's gone. did you give it back?"

"what hoodie?"

"the one i let you borrow when you and trav came over in the fall. the white one." he said as he kept going through his hoodies. oh. that hoodie. jack's hoodie.

"i gave it back to jack, he said it was is..." you responded quietly, making luke's jaw drop.

"nooooooo. y/n/n!"

"i'm sorry! i didn't know you cared that much."

"i've been hiding that hoodie from him since we were in toronto, it was so nice." he said, putting a hand on his heart as he looked down at the ground. you laughed slightly at how dramatic he was.

"idiot! it's just a hoodie, wear another one."

"jack's never gonna let me borrow it again."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

you were sitting on the couch in the living room with your family and travis, the draft was about the start. you had texted a couple of the guys who you were pretty close with good luck and had been texting luke almost all the time since he left. you were so happy for them, especially for jack, even if the two of you were still a little weird, you still cared about him.

so when his name was the first to get called that night, you were the first to jump up from the couch, fists in the air as you jumped around. your family was quick to follow, they had taken the hughes siblings as their own, just like jim and ellen had done for you and jeremy. travis stayed on the couch the whole night, his eyes stuck on you as you jumped up every time one of the guys got their name called, and how a bright smile was plastered on your face as you sent each of them a text shortly after their pick.

the second after hearing jack got off of the stage, he had been surrounded by pure chaos. media, photographs, players, staff members, there was just so much going on. but he was living his dream, so who was he to complain. he constantly felt his phone buzz in the pocket of his dress pants, before eventually putting it on do not disturb, not even bothering to check any of the messages.

it wasn't until he was back with his family that he really got the time to go through all of his messages. family who couldn't attend, old teammates, friends from toronto, friends from michigan, future teammates, and more. but there was only one notification he cared about. it was the first one he looked for, not even bothering to acknowledge the fact that crosby had sent him a message, no all he care was finding yours.

CONGRATS JACKY !!!!

SO SO PROUD OF YOUUUUUU

KNEW YOU HAD NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT

his smile quickly grew as he opened the messages. it was late in vancouver, meaning you were probably already asleep back in michigan. he knew you wouldn't see his message until the morning, but he didn't care. his response was short and simple.

thank you y/n/n ❤️

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

when the hughes family got back from vancouver, you were in their driveway before they had even gotten out of the car. and you were quick to throw yourself into jack's arms. your arms were wrapped around his neck as his went around your waist, pulling you close.

"you're amazing, holy shit!" you gasped, pulling away from the boy and you shook him slightly before pulling him back in. the boy let out a laughter as he squeeze tight in his arms. gosh he was gone for barely and week and he had missed you so much. he started to wonder what it would've been like to have you right by his side as his name echoed in the arena.

"dude! congrats!" stupid travis always running his picture perfect thoughts. jack looked over at the voice, seeing your boyfriend walking over towards him with a smile. you then disappeared from his grasp, and going over to luke.

"thanks man." jack said awkwardly as the boys shared a hand shake, he looked over at the rest of his family, you were now quickly hugging quinn before moving over to ellen and jim.

"sweatheart, we were going to have a barbecue tonight, are your parents busy?" ellen asked as you parted from jim.

"i don't think so."

"i'll go ask them." travis said before walking back towards your house. the hughes family then started taking their luggages out of their car and making their way into their house, but jack stayed in place. and so did you. it was just the two of you now, standing about a foot away from each other. jack's eyes locked into yours.

"'m really happy for you, j." you mumbled after a small moment of silence.

"thank you, y/n/n." he whispered, his eyes still staring into yours. "you'd love vancouver."

"i wish i could've been there."

"me too." he admitted. you hadn't even realized how close the two of you had gotten. one of his hands was now resting on your forearm, inches away from your hand. she has a boyfriend. he kept repeating to himself, but you were right there. your lips parted slightly as you now looked up to him.

"your parents said they were coming in a couple minutes, babe." of fucking course. travis was obvious to the situation the two of you were currently in. the thoughts that ran through both your heads. how you still felt the hotness on your skin from jack's touch. this was so wrong. you had a boyfriend, a boyfriend you loved, and all you could think about was your best friend's brother.

summer and came and went in the blink of an eye. the hughes' had taken their annual trip to their lakehouse for a couple of weeks, so it was just you and travis for a bit. no luke, no jack, just you two. and it felt like a much needed break from the older boy. and when fall rolled away, jack and quinn were gone. sure quinn didn't live in the hughes' house, but he was around enough with school only being about 30 minutes away. but now it was always just you, luke, and travis.

you and jack barely ever spoke, only when he'd call his little brother and you were around, nothing else. and then quarantine happened, jack and quinn were home a lot sooner than they normally would've. you and travis couldn't see each other, but thankfully both your parents and the hughes' were okay with you and luke hanging out on one of your front porches or backyards a couple of times a week, keeping a safe distance of course.

it felt weird spending so little time at the hughes' and it felt ever weirder to see all three brothers there in the middle of april. as restrictions slowly started being lifted, you started spending your afternoons at the side of the hughes' pool. and then you'd help "ref" whatever small tournament of games they had going on with your brothers, making two equal teams. of course, they let you join whenever you wanted, but you weren't exactly wanting to play basketball or hockey with them. so you stayed on the side most of the time, but you didn't mind.

travis' parents had gone a little crazy at the pandemic. they barely let the two of you see each other, and always made sure the two of you kept a safe distance. it was awful but you understood. you never really complained though because you two still facetimed everyday, or texted all the time.

but you had finally landed yourself an invite to the hughe's lakehouse in august, along with travis of course. your parents had no problem letting you go, after all you had spent of your time with the brother's already, but travis' parents were quick to say no. luke had tried his hardest to convince them to let him come, but it was no use.

it was just going to be you, luke, jack, and all of his friends. great.

════ ⋆summer 2020⋆ ════

➻❥ wolfeboro, nh

you were officially 17. one more year until you were an adult, and it honestly felt crazy. you were about to start your senior year, and although luke wouldn't be at school anymore because of the ntdp choosing to make their players do online school, you were still so excited. it was insane to you that you had met the family freshman year and you were already a senior.

you had celebrated your birthday out on the lake with all of jack's friends and the two brothers. you had a blast listening to them bickering and arguing the whole day while you just sat back and watched. it was great.

you had been at the lakehouse for a couple of days now, and somehow jack and luke had convinced their parents to go to the lakehouse alone, meaning it was only teenagers in the house. that of course came with jack and his friends drinking every night and acting like a bunch of idiots the whole time, but you found it entertaining.

jack had made it quiet clear that neither you or luke were allowed to have any alcohol. his parents weren't here, so he was the one in charge. but after begging the whole day, you were finally allowed to drink with them since you were now 17. that of course earned a long string of whines from luke, who was only a couple of weeks shy of being 17 as well, but jack simply ignored him.

so here you were, the early hours of the morning approaching as you sat on the edge of the dock. the boy's were starting to calm down a bit, meaning it was almost time for bed. you had snuck away a couple of minutes ago, needing a small break from the guys. you were sure luke would be the first to join you or maybe cole, but to your surprise it was jack.

"you okay?" jack asked as he sat down next to you, drink in hand.

"yeah, why?"

"you've been out here a while, trevor was starting to think you fell in the lake." he said, making you scoff a bit.

"you guys do realize me and luke have drank before. we're not little freshmen anymore."

"i know." he said, and you looked over at him for the first time since he sat down. you could see in his eyes that he was drunk, but not fully, just enough to feel it. you sent him a small smile before looking back over at the lake. the two of you then sat in a comfortable silence before jack spoke again. "do you ever think about getting married?"

"i'm 17." gosh, that still felt weird to say.

"i know, but like the guys were saying chicks always think about that kind of stuff. got a whole pinterest boards for wedding inspo, and shit." he explained, making you roll your eyes slightly.

"stop calling us chicks."

"sorry."

"i guess i do sometimes."

"yeah?"

"yeah." you affirmed, and jack looked over at you with his brows raised, waiting for you to elaborate. "i want something small, no new girlfriends and boyfriends that i've never met, no kids under 5 because that's just chaos. if anyone even thinks of announcing a pregnancy or proposing to someone at my wedding, out of life for good. outside, maybe on a beach or in the forest, during summer time obviously. has to be during the sunset to get those nice pictures. lots of flowers around. each table with a vase of falling lilies. round tables, not squared or rectangles-"

"you really thought about everything, huh?" jack joked, making you blush slightly before looking down at his lap.

"not everything, but most of it."

"more than me. i just know i want good vibes, good music, good food, all my friends there." he said, making you laugh slightly.

"so what everyone else wants when they first think about their wedding?"

"i guess so." he shrugged, making you chuckle. your eyes were now locked together. and the heat of his body was radiating onto you. not this again.

"dude! luke stole a beer!"

jack hughes was going to hit trevor zegras. it's like the new york native had a gift for ruining every moment jack got to spend with you.

"fucking luke." jack cursed as he stood up from the dock and made his way back to everyone, his feet slightly thumping.

the rest of your trip to the lake house had gone smoothly, you and jack kept your distance a little after that weird moment out on the dock. the boy had eventually agreed to let his little brother drink, but he was limited to a certain amount of drinks.

and when it came time to go home, you were excited. no more sharing a house with jack, he'd be going to new jersey soon and you'd go back to how life was. but of course, the odds were not in favour, and the nhl season was not starting until january. great.

thankfully, jack spent most of his time working out with quinn and out on the ice with his brothers, so you didn't see him all that much. but none of his close friends were in michigan, and the ones who went to umich couldn't leave campus, meaning his brothers were his only friends right now.

so whenever you'd come around, quinn and jack would always be there as well. eventually, travis' parents started letting him come over more and more, and when he'd be around, jack was never there. you found it a bit weird at first, how the middle hughes would always disappear when travis would get there, but you ignored it, told yourself it was just a coincidence.

it wasn't. jack hughes could not stand the sight of you and travis together anymore, not after that night out on the dock. nothing happened, you just talked, but everything hit him that night. he was in love with you, so fucking in love with you. and sometimes when your eyes would linger on him a little longer than they should, or when he'd catch you staring at him during movie nights, he'd tell himself you felt the same way. but then the arms that were wrapped around your body would bring him back down to earth.

it hurt him, it hurt him so much, because deep down he knew that if trevor had never came upstairs back at the superbolw night, your lips would've locked together in the middle of the kitchen. his hands would've been all over your body, his body close to yours. and the second your lips parted he would've been rambling about how long he'd be wanting to do that for, how long he'd been thinking about what it feel like. and how he knew he wanted you in his life forever.

but that didn't happen. instead you slipped away from him, and then you were gone. you were still there physically, but you were gone. he had his chance, his moment, it would've been perfect. but stupid trevor had to ruin it all. and so every time his eyes caught you and travis being all loved up, all he could think about was how that could be him, that should be him. but it wasn't.

════ ⋆spring 2021⋆ ════

➻❥ detroit, mich

"i'm so proud of you, y/n/n!" luke exclaimed as he picked you up, spinning you around slightly. your laugh echoed through his ears as your tried your best to keep your hat on the top of your head.

"thank you, lukey." you mumbled as the boy placed you down, but his arms stayed around you.

"congratulations, sweetie!" it was ellen's turn to embrace you in her arms. you did it. you had graduated high school. it was truly a surreal feeling, you were starting college in a couple of months.

you had your mind set on michigan at first, luke would be there, it was close to home but travis was going to columbia. you had jokingly applied, you didn't think you'd get in, but what was the worse that could happen? but you weren't prepared to see the word 'accepted' when you opened the email. luke was sitting next to you when you opened it, and he was so happy for you. sure, it stung that you two would be apart, but you had gotten into an ivy league school. he could get over not seeing you for a couple of months.

you hadn't told travis, acting like you were going to go to michigan until decision day came around. you showed up to school that day proudly wearing your purple columbia hoodie, and travis swore he almost fainted when he saw you appear in the hallway. you were coming with him.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

the moment jack hughes he was a complete goner for you came at his little brother's draft. you and travis had been standing on the side of the living room with alex and josh as you waited to hear luke's name get called. and when you hard the new jersey devils call his name, the room erupted. jack was so excited, already looking forward to having his brother with him.

your smile was wide as you watched luke slipped jack's jersey on along with a new jersey devils hat. you knew he'd make it one day. once luke was done with all of his interview, the party was in full swing, people congratulating him every second.

at a point, the jersey slipped off of his back and onto yours, a wide grin on your face as you smiled for the photo. jack had been on the side with his brother, alex, quinn and a couple of family friends. he hadn't been paying any attention to what was happening anymore, until he heard your laugh echo through the backyard.

his eyes quickly found you, and his heart sped up at the sight of his jersey on your body. he was brought back to that time you were wearing his hoodie without even knowing, and how you had kindly returned it to him before leaving. only his jersey looked so much better than any hoodie could. his number on your back along with his last name.

butterflies flew around his stomach at the sight, your smile wide as you shifted away from luke and started talking to some of their cousins. gosh how he wished he could see like this at his game, standing in the crowd cheering him on.

the day he found out you were coming to new york for school, he was thrilled. part of him hoped this would finally be the moment where you two would finally push past this weird tension between you two. sure he lived across the bridge, but you were moving to new city, and you would have no friends. he'd be the only one you knew for a while. but when he opened his phone one morning and the only thing he could see was travis sitting at a table signing a contract with a small sign that said 'columbia univerisity' in front of him and his parents decked out in purple, his heart shattered.

how could he forget. how could he forget the only reason you had applied to columbia in the first place was because of travis. not him. travis. so, even though you'd only be about 20 minutes away from him in the fall, and no matter how good you looked in red with the number 86 on your back, he knew that wasn't the jersey you'd be wearing in a couple of months.

and the day jack hughes truly got his heart broken came only a couple of months later. it was the devils' home opened, and jack had texted randomly saying he'd love for you to attend, and he was sure you'd love it. so you agreed. and when jack walked out of the locker room after their win, he was over the moon. he hadn't seen you in so long, and he couldn't wait to see you. he was quick to get undressed and get done with the media to rush out of the locker room and make his way to the friends and family area where you had texted him you were waiting.

but his body froze as his eyes landed on you, or more specifically the arm that was around you. he should've known, he should've known travis would be here, why wouldn't he? but jack had asked you to come, not you and your boyfriend. and to make it worse, you were wearing a devils jersey, 'subban' was written on your back. ouch.

"jack!" you said once you spotted him, walking over towards him, and throwing your arms around his neck. "you were great!"

"thanks, y/n."

"you okay?" you asked concerned when you noticed the small smile on his face.

"yeah, just tired a guess, it's been a while." he lied as travis joined the two of you. the boy boys dabbed each other up, exchanging small greetings before jack was already trying to leave.

"i forgot, coach wanted to talk to me-"

"oh, no worries, we'll wait."

"nah, you don't need to. it might take a while and i really wanna go home." he said, rubbing the back of his neck. you were a little hurt by this. he had been texting you all day about how excited he was to see you and for the game, yet here he was already trying to leave.

"oh. i get it, yeah, go rest."

"i'll see you guys soon."

you didn't. you had texted him the next day asking if he was feeling better and he never answered. you were starting to get a little worried, so you had asked luke to check up on him, and luke was quick to answer you saying that jack was okay. that really hurt, you had figured out after a while that jack was simply ignoring you, travis had also reached out after a while, but still no answer.

jack had gone home that night and for what felt like the first time of his life, he was heartbroken, and he cried, he cried hard. he was so stupid to think you'd show up alone, you had travis had been together for almost three years now, why would you show up alone. three years, it had been three long painful years of jack trying to convince himself that one day you'd realize he was the one you wanted, not travis. but that day never came, and it probably never will. he needed to move on.

but he couldn't do that with you around, so he ignored you. he needed a break, a long long break to focus on himself and finally get over this stupid crush he's had for years. you never went to another devils game after that.

and when summer came around, you were a little hesitant to join luke and his family. jack and quinn had bought a lake house about an hour away from your homes, and their parents sold the lake house in wolfeboro. thankfully, jack and quinn had decided they would only stay at their own house now, no more staying with their parents, so you didn't have to see jack.

but when quinn had reached out and invited both you and travis to come over, you didn't know what to do. travis had been out of town with his family to visit his grandparents in minnesota, so it was just you. you were going to decline his invitation at first, but when luke showed up early in the morning pounding on your bedroom, you knew you had no choice.

their house was huge, the backyard was huge, everything was just so big and fancy. of course that the fancy part didn't last long as the boys all settled into the house, it quickly became chaotic. but that's what made it comforting in a way.

"what's up with you and jack?" luke asked one evening as the two of you laid on the dock, staring up at the sky. your brows furred as you looked over to the boy, he was already looking at you.

"what're you talking about?"

"you haven't said a single thing to hime since you got here, you barely even said hi."

"nothing's going on between me and jack." you said. it was a lie. and you hated lying to your best friend. but how were you supposed to explain to him all of it, how complicated and stupid everything between you and jack was. you weren't stupid, you had a small guess as to why he disappeared. all the stolen glances, the awkward moments when he was so close yet so far, and the fact that you had a boyfriend, a boyfriend you loved more than anything in the world. you knew.

"y/n/n... i'm not stupid, come on. did he do something? say something?" luke urged, pushing himself up on his hands. you were quick to follow his movement, shuffling slightly closer to him so your shoulders were touching.

"it's stupid."

"try me."

"he invited me to the home opener, so obviously me and trav went. and then after the game he was all weird and he rushed to leave. and i haven't heard him since." you explained, choosing to start your story to the last time you saw the middle hughes instead of year ago when you almost kissed him in their kitchen.

"he's such a bitch. i don't get why he'd do that."

"it's fine, lu, really. school was crazy busy anyways it's not like i had that much free time to see him or whatever. i don't care." another lie. gosh you hated yourself for how the words slipped so easily from your mouth. how you uttered them with full confidence knowing deep down the absence of jack was killing you.

"he's such an idiot."

════ ⋆spring 2023⋆ ════

➻❥ newark, nj

a large smile was plastered on your face as luke appeared in the family and friends room, his hair wet and messy while his classic lopsided grin was on his face.

"lukey!" you called out, handing travis your bag as you ran towards your best friend, throwing yourself into his arms. he had just played his first nhl game, and of course you and travis had found the time to come watch.

"dude!" travis said as he followed behind you, hitting the boy on the shoulder a couple of times.

"thanks for coming guys."

"of course! i'm so happy and proud of you, lu! and the trio's back together!" you said with excitement as you brought the tall boy into another hug. luke was here. he was 20 minutes away from school and you couldn't wait for the next year already. you were almost done with your sophomore year, meaning you were already almost done with college.

luke and travis just let out laughs at your excitement. the trio was back together. but the only downside to luke moving to new jersey was the fact that he lived with jack. jack you still hadn't spoken to besides small greetings since the home opened a season ago. travis didn't talk to him either, they were never really that close and your boyfriend always had a feeling that jack just did not like him.

when the devils made the playoffs, you made sure to attend every game you could. quinn was also in town during that time, and it felt so weird for all of you to be together in new york instead of michigan, but you loved it. quinn, jim and travis spent most of the games talking about sports, while you and ellen stressed over the games. it was amazing.

and life got even better when you went back to michigan, this time travis joining you whenever you'd go to quinn and jack's lakehouse. jack was very different that summer, he stayed away from almost everyone, and he was glued to the wheel of the boat. you had mentioned it to luke slightly, but even he didn't know what had gotten into his brother.

even though things were still weird between you, travis and jack, you had the best summer of your life. and by the time you went back to new york, you had a ring on your finger. you had travis had agreed to wait until you both graduated to get married, but he had been keeping the ring hidden away in his room for too long now. luke was over the moon for you, quinn, ellen and jim as well. but jack only retreaded back to his room when you showed up to the lakehouse a little after sunset showing off your ring.

but you didn't care, you were happy. and nothing was going to ruin that for you.

going back to new york, you fell back into the same routine as before, only now whenever you had free time you'd spend most of it with luke. either going out for food, chilling in your dorms or even going over to his apartment when jack would be out.

luke quickly became aware that the problem behind jack's behaviour wasn't something to do with hockey, and he only acted this way whenever he was around you and travis, so he tried to limit your interactions.

as for jack, he had been miserable ever since he left the arena after the home opener. the distance to try and move on did nothing. if anything, it hurt even more than having you around. but what was he supposed to do? go back to how it was before and pretend he never fell into this flunk, explain to you why he had done it, tell the truth only to get his heart broken once again? yeah, that wasn't gonna happen. so he stuck to staying away.

but the moment he saw that ring on your finger, his heart shattered completely. you were getting married, married to someone who wasn't him. ever since your conversation about weddings on the dock back in 2020, he had started thinking about his. he imagined different version every times, but there was one constant thing that was identical. you were wearing white, you and only you.

but that's all it was, thoughts and dream that he knew who never come to life. thankfully, he could only guess that he wouldn't be invited to the wedding, so that would at least save him the pain of hearing you say 'i do' to someone that isn't him. he knew he should be happy for you, that's all he really wanted, for you to be happy. but he had his limits, and seeing you be happy with someone else, that he just couldn't handled. so he stayed away.

he couldn't help the little gasp that slipped out of my mouth when his eye landed on the wedding invitation. his wedding invitation. was this some sort of joke? had mistakenly addressed it to him instead of luke? but luke had already received his. this was no mistake. jack hughes was invited to your wedding.

it took him a full week to decide whether he was going to come or not, and he eventually decided he will after luke practically corned him asking why he hadn't answered yet. he wanted to be at your wedding, he really did, but he wanted it to be your wedding. but he wanted you to be happy. your happiness was the most important thing to him, and if marrying travis would make you happy, then he was happy, sorta. at least it wasn't with luke.

════ ⋆summer 2024⋆ ════

➻❥ michigan

"you excited?" your mom asked, standing behind you in front of the large mirror in the room. your hair was done already, so was your makeup, all was left was the dress. in less than an hour, you'd be married.

after lots of conversation, you and travis eventually settled on having your wedding in a venue, and he had ended up choosing most of the decorations after you insisted he add his own touch to the wedding, and that you didn't really mind how it was set up besides a few thing.

"yeah. just nervous." you answered, taking a deep breath. your mom laughed slightly as she wrapped her arms around you.

"that's a good thing, honey. we all are right before." she soothed, but it didn't help. you were nervous, you were scared. of what? you weren't sure, but you knew you were.

you eventually slipped on your dress and took a couple of minutes to yourself before you were swarmed by people for the whole night. all you did was stare into the mirror, looking over yourself. this wasn't what you had imagined.

a knock eventually came, you answered with a small 'come in' but no one moved. the door stayed closed and you figured maybe it was just your mom making sure you were still alive. you took a deep breath, closing your eyes as you enjoyed your final moment of peace for the night.

and when you opened them again, jack was standing behind you. you hadn't even heard him come in. his eyes were starring into yours through the mirror. your breath caught in your throat as you observed him. it had been forever since the two of you had been alone in a room, yet alone this close to each other.

"this isn't what you talked about." he stated after a couple of minutes, taking a small step towards you.

"what?"

"this isn't the wedding you talked about." he said, referring to that night out on the dock where you had shared your imagination with him. you bit your bottom lips, trying to find the right words to say.

"guess it just changed overtime." you shrugged, finally looking away from his eyes. jack took another steps towards you, and you could feel the heat of his body onto your back. he was so close.

"bullshit."

"jack-"

"nothing about this wedding screams you. the decorations were all travis, weren't they? there's barely any flowers, the main colours are blue and yellow. you hate yellow. this is really the wedding you want to have?"

"jack i- it's complicated." you sighed.

"your boyfriend of 6 years not knowing you hate the colour yellow and not knowing what your dream wedding is isn't complicated, y/n. you wanted follows everywhere, falling lilies, have it outside. nothing about this is you, it's all him. why are you allowing it to be all about him?"

"because he wants this, jack! this is for him, not me, all of this is for him!" you said, your voice raising. your words sunk into jack and you saw his shoulder sag a bit.

"what do you mean?"

"this is what he wants, jack. he wants this wedding."

"you don't?"

"i hate yellow." you admitted, trying your best to hold in your tears. you had never told jack about your hatred for the colour, so how he knew you had no idea. "i hate this dress, i hate venue, i hate the followers he picked."

"you hate the dress?" he asked, his voice low. "why?" he added once he saw you nod.

"it wasn't the one i wanted."

"why didn't you get it?"

"it was perfect. for my dream wedding, it was perfect. not for this one."

"then why not have the wedding you always wanted? you deserve it!"

"because that's all it is, jack, a dream!" you yelled, a tear slipping down your cheek. you squeezed your eyes shut, bitting your lips, when you felt one of jack's hand on your arm.

"tell me about it, the dream wedding."

"just our close friends and families. on the beach, too many bugs in the forest. the sunset in the back, flowers everywhere, falling lilies on the table. taking a walk on the shore after, just us. and when i'd get to aisle..." you trailed off, feeling jack's other hand land on your waist, your back against his chest, his breath on your shoulder. "you'd be waiting for me. our eyes lock, and you'd smile, and i'd try my best not to cry. i can't have my dream wedding today, because the man is not the one waiting for me today." you admitted, your eyes still shut closed as tears slowly fell down your cheeks.

"i love falling lilies." jack whispered into your ear, his lips against the shell of it.

"i know, that's why i picked them. you love the water."

"i do." he whispered, his lips trailing over your the side of your neck. "you hate yellow."

"i hate yellow." you repeated, opening your eyes only to see jack already looking at you.

"leave with me."

"jack..."

"leave with me, y/n/n. i haven't stopped thinking about you since that night in the kitchen. and i've hated myself ever since for not telling trevor to fuck off and let you leave. it was the biggest mistake of my life. you're the only one i've ever wanted. and every time someone asks me where i see myself in 10 years, if i had broken any records, all i can think about is you, us. you're all i think about." he admitted, his words sending shivers down your spine. "i'm in love with you, y/n/n. i'm so fucking in love with you it hurts, but i love it."

"there's a back door down the hallway."

"there is." he confirmed. your eyes were locked together again.

"you drove?"

"i did."

"alone?"

"yes."

"go start the car." you mumbled, you felt his lips against your cheek and he was gone, a wide grin on his face. you quickly started getting this dress off, taking your hair out of its up do and into a messy bun. you were about to grab your bag when luke came into the room. his brows immediately furred when he saw you. the ceremony was starting in less than 20 minutes, what the hell were you doing?"

"y/n/n. what's going on?" his voice made you freeze. you slowly turned around, and luke was quick to noticed your smudged mascara. "are you okay?" he quickly asked, stepping towards you.

"i can't do this, luke."

"y/n/n, what're you talking about?"

"i can't get married."

"you're stressing yourself out, y/n. get the dress back on. everyone gets nervous, doesn't mean you don't want to get married." luke tried to reason, his hands on your shoulder.

"no, no, no! you don't get it, lu. i can't get to married to travis."

"wha- why not? he loves you, y/n/n, and you love him. you guys have been together forever." luke said, getting slightly agitated. you were about to say something when jack walked in.

"y/n/n, you almost ready to go?" he asked before his hands landed on his younger brother, his jaw falling slightly. luke looked over at his brother, before looking over at you.

"y/n/n...?"

"i can't marry travis, luke. i can't, i don't want to." you said, and luke understood right away. he smiled down slightly at you. he knew.

he always knew. he always noticed how shy and blushed you would get around his brother, he wasn't stupid. and he always noticed how jack's eyes lingered on you a little too long. he knew.

"trav's mom said she was going to come see you soon, so you need to go, now." luke mumbled, a grateful smile forming on your face.

"i'll see you tonight, okay? i love you."

"i love you more, y/n/n." luke answered, giving you a slight hug before you grabbed your bag and made your way towards jack. the boy was quick to grab your bag. "take care of her."

"i will."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

"she's gone!" travis' mom yelled out, walking back into the main area. everyone's head quickly turned towards her, her hands frantically waving in the air.

luke had managed to make it back to the rest of the group before travis' mom went to go see you. he was standing with quinn and their father, talking about sports.

"what?"

"y/n! she's gone!" she repeated, your family quickly made their way over to your room to confirm this claim by their own. and when they entered the room, they were met with your dress hanging and all of your stuff gone, with your ring left on the desk.

when your parents came back and confirmed that you were gone, chaos ensued. everyone tried calling your phone, trying to think about how you would have left and why? travis eventually came out of his own room and joined the panic.

"where's jack?" quinn whispered to his baby brother.

"where do you think." luke mumbled back, pretending to be on his phone trying to contact you. quinn knew too. essentially everyone knew besides you, jack, and travis about these unsaid feelings between you two.

"atta boy." quinn said under his breath, making luke snort.

"luke! where is she?" travis said loudly, walking up to his best friend.

"i don't know, man, i'm trying to call her." he answered, showing the boy his phone. luke felt bad for lying to his friend like this. but you were his best friend, you were his soulmate and he'd do anything for you. he knew the time would come where you and jack finally grew balls and admitted your love for each other.

"you were the last to see her!"

"she was fine when i went to see her. look man, i'm just as confused as you are." another lie. gosh, luke hated lying.

"where's jack?" travis asked with a low voice. his eyes looking around the room for the brunette boy.

"i-i don't know." technically, this wasn't a lie. he knew who jack was with, but he didn't know where.

"i knew it. i fucking knew it. she left with him, didn't she?" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. when he saw the looks the two brothers gave each other, he broke. "get the hell out of here."

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

"your lake house, really?" you said in disbelief as jack pulled into driveway.

"no one's home!" he answered, putting the car in park and climbing out. he quickly made his way around the car and opened the door for you. you stared at his hand that was reached out for you, still in disbelief that this was the place he chose to go to. "come one, y/n/n. we can go on the boat, swim in the pool, watch a movie. whatever you want to do, we can do it. just us."

"jack, the last time i was here-"

"was with travis, i know. but i own the place so who gives a shit." he said, making you laugh slightly, looking down at your lap. you felt jack's hand on your chin, tilting your head towards him. he had stepped closer, and he was barely inches away from you. "it's just us."

"kiss me." you blurted out. jack's eyes went wide before he quickly leaned in and finally, after years, his lips met yours. the hand that was on your chin cupped your face, while the other landed on your waist. your hands reached for the collor of his dress shirt, pulling him close.

"y/n/n..." he whispered when your lips parted, slightly out of the breath. the hand on your face slide down to your waist, holding you close.

"shut up." you said, wrapping your head around his neck and pulling him in again.

there was no way this was real. you were making out with jack hughes in the middle of his driveway. holy fuck.

your tongues met in the middle after a while, and a moan escaped your mouth when jack pulled you flush against him. he was still standing right outside of the door, and your legs were now hanging out of the door around his. when lips left yours and moved down to your neck, your hands went into his hair, tugging as small gasps slipped past your lips.

"jack." you whispered, his lips trailing down further and further.

"yeah, baby?" he responded, his lips leaving your skin for a slight second before they were back on you.

"i want you."

everything after that was a blur. jack had lifted you out of the door, kicking the door closed behind him as your lips met again. your arms around his neck, his hands on your waist, as he tried his best to guide the two of you into the house safely. jack struggled to get his keys figured out to unlock the door, partly because of all the adrenaline rushing through him, and because of the way your lips danced on his neck.

"fuck, y/n/n." he groaned, finally opening. he guided you in once again, and quickly pushed you up against the wall, the door closing between the two of you. his body was trapping yours against the wall, his hands roaming your body. meanwhile, yours attacked his button up, trying your best to undo the buttons as quickly as possible. jack helped you out a bit, getting the ones at the bottom. but he left the last one for you. and when you undid it, you were quick to push the shirt off of his shoulders, exposing his chest completely.

"you're so pretty, jack." you mumbled against his lips, your fingers roaming his chest, finger naisl grazing his abs. he let out a loud grunt, his head falling into your neck. "sound so fucking pretty, j." another grunt.

"fuck, love the way you talk to me, y/n/n. so fucking hot." he whispered against your neck. jack's hands trailed to the back of thighs, quickly lifting you over his shoulder. you let out a yelp at his movement before giggling as he started making his way to his bedroom, his shirt being left behind on the ground.

"stupid luke wanting the downstairs bedroom." he cursed under his breath as he made his way up the stairs, making you laugh a little.

"you own the place." you said, almost mocking his words from before. jack let out a small chuckle before softly slapping your butt. you eventually made it to his room, and jack carefully place you down on his bed, his body hovering over yours.

your legs were over his thighs as he kneeled on the bed, his hands right next to your head. his crotch hard against yours.

"you're wearing too much clothes."

"so are you." you answered, hands going down to fiddle with his belt.

"you have more than me!"

"you still have your shoes on, idiot." you smiled up with him, his finger slowly pushing your top over your head.

── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

"oh, hell no." luke grumbled as soon as he entered the lake house, quinn right behind him. the two boys had came straight after getting kicked out by travis, but when they saw jack's car in the driveway, they decided to spent the rest of the day with their parents.

luke eventually explained them the situation, and although ellen was over the moon that you two had finally confessed to each other, she scolded luke for not telling the truth and for not telling her as soon as it happened.

but it was almost the early hours of the morning now, and the two boys wanted to sleep in their own bed. but luke was not expecting to see jack's shirt on the ground as soon as he walked in.

quinn let out a chuckle as his eyes landed on the shirt, slapping luke on the back slightly. "what'd you think they were doing, bud? having a tea party?" quinn joked before he started making his way upstairs to his bedroom. "welcome to your new life, dude."

oh, absolutely not. for some reason, luke had totally forget the part where you would now be having sex with his brother, so when the two of you slowly made your way to the kitchen the next morning, both of your hairs a mess, dark purple spots along both your necks, and down jack's chest - luke could only guess there were some on yours too - he was quick to say something.

"i have rules." he said loudly, making quinn look up from his phone, as you and jack looked over at him, your eyes half closed. "keep the sex quiet, and don't talk to me about it. no kissing with your tongues like teenagers in front of me."

"like this?" you asked before grabbing jack's face and kissing him exactly how luke had described.

"ew! y/n!" luke gasped, his hands covering his eyes. quinn let out a laugh, getting a kick out of watching this. "none of that!"

"awh."

"and... y/n/n you're still my best friend, okay? and i don't want to third wheel all the time." luke said, getting slightly emotional. you smile softly before walking over to the boy and hugging him.

"don't worry, lukey, i won't talk to you about how good your brother fucks me." you joked, making jack and quinn let out a laugh as luke let out another gasp. this was going to be fun.

#bri writes #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes angst #jack hughes fic #luke hughes #quinn hughes #new jersey devils #nhl hockey #nhl imagine

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jungwnies · 3 months ago

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f1 grid (2/2) | dropping the towel

୨ৎ : featuring : lando norris, oscar piastri, kimi antonelli, ollie bearman, and yuki tsunoda (click here for part one) ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by 🫐) : pranking your boyfriend by pretending to drop your towel mid grwm (get ready with me), only to reveal you’re fully dressed...cue panic, confusion, and betrayal.

୨ৎ : genre : comedy ୨ৎ : tws : slightly suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 781

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : are we excited for japan thooooo omfg...

ʚ・lando norris

lando walked into the room, spotted the towel, and his grin was immediate.

he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes twinkling with amusement.

“oh, this is gonna be good.”

there was a hint of anticipation, a glint of mischief—he was expecting a show.

then, with full dramatic flair, you yanked the towel off.

fully clothed.

lando’s smirk instantly disappeared.

his body froze, mouth slightly open, staring at you like you’d just personally betrayed him.

“wait. wait. what the hell, that’s not fair!”

you were already cackling, but lando? he was deeply offended.

hands flying in the air, he pointed at you accusingly.

“this is false advertising.”

still staring at you in disbelief, he collapsed onto the bed, rolling onto his stomach like a child who just got their toy taken away.

“no. i don’t want to talk to you.”

for the next hour, he pouted aggressively, refusing to make eye contact as you laughed at his dramatic sulking.

you leaned down, poking his cheek. “still mad?”

his voice was muffled into the pillow.

“i feel scammed.”

ʚ・oscar piastri

oscar walked into the room, mid-sip of his water, only to see you filming something suspicious.

he immediately stopped in his tracks.

expression blank, he stared for a second before slowly tilting his head.

“do i even want to know?”

you didn’t answer—just gripped the towel dramatically and yanked it off.

fully clothed.

silence.

oscar blinked once. then twice.

then, just… stared.

like he was waiting for his brain to process the absolute nonsense he just witnessed.

a long pause.

finally, in the driest tone possible—

“i hate you.”

and without another word, he turned around and walked straight out.

no questions. no follow-ups.

just pure, silent disappointment.

ʚ・kimi antonelli

kimi walked into the room, took one look at you filming, and immediately froze in the doorway.

not in shock. not even close.

he just stood there, arms crossed, staring at you like a teacher who caught a student doing something profoundly dumb.

a long pause.

then—deadpan—

“really?”

you bit back a grin, gripping the towel dramatically before yanking it off like a magician revealing a trick.

fully clothed.

kimi’s expression did not change.

he didn’t gasp, didn’t panic, didn’t even blink.

instead, he just squinted slightly, tilting his head like he was trying to mentally process the sheer stupidity of what just happened.

another long, suffering sigh.

then, in the most disappointed, italian-mother-just-found-out-you-failed-a-test voice—

“sei un'idiota.” ("you're an idiot.")

he shook his head, as if mourning the loss of your last functioning brain cell, then turned and walked out.

still no reaction. no further discussion.

just pure, unfiltered italian judgment.

from the hallway, you heard him mutter—

“you and your tik-tok trends.”

ʚ・ollie bearman

ollie walked into the room mid-grwm, completely unfazed, tilting his head as he noticed your phone propped up.

"you’re filming? oh, okay, cool—"

he was about to leave the room, totally uninterested, until he saw you gripping the towel, ready to pull it off.

his entire body froze.

"WAIT, Y/N, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

his voice shot up an octave, eyes widening in sheer panic as he frantically looked around, like an escape route would magically appear.

you yanked the towel off—fully clothed.

ollie just… stood there.

red-faced, completely speechless, his hands slightly raised like he wasn’t sure whether to cover his eyes or just leave his body entirely.

"i genuinely thought i was gonna have a heart attack."

you were wheezing with laughter, but ollie? he was already turning away, staring at the wall like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.

for the next ten minutes, he refused to make eye contact, mumbling, “nope. not talking to you. don’t even look at me.”

you, of course, spent the rest of the day making it worse.

ʚ・yuki tsunoda

yuki walked into the room at the exact moment you dramatically grabbed the towel, your expression way too smug for his liking.

his eyes immediately narrowed.

“oi, what the HELL are you doing?!”

panic flickered across his face as he tensed up, eyes darting between you and the door like he was debating whether to run or intervene.

then, with full cinematic flair, you dropped the towel.

fully clothed.

a beat of silence.

then, a dramatic, exaggerated gasp.

“you’re so annoying.”

he threw his hands in the air, face scrunched up like he just lost a race due to an engine failure.

without another word, he stormed out, grumbling aggressively in japanese about how he “could’ve had some today, but no—"

you were already crying with laughter, but from the hallway, you heard his final declaration of betrayal.

“i can never trust you again!”

1K notes · View notes

y2kstarr · 4 months ago

Text

Mutual Hatred - m. sturniolo

brother's bsf!matt x nate's little sister!reader

Warnings : 18+ ⋆ smut w/ plot ⋆ age gap (18 - 22) ⋆ cursing (a whole lotta fucks) ⋆ dom!matt ⋆ mean!matt ⋆ brat!reader ⋆ sub!reader ⋆ masturbation ⋆ phone sex? ⋆ underage drinking (big no no!!) ⋆ p in v no protection (wrap it before you tap it!!) ⋆ virginity loss ⋆ mirror sex ⋆ hate sex? ⋆ spanking ⋆ slight choking ⋆ degrading and slight praising ⋆ usage of "slut", "whore", "bitch", "brat", "baby" + more

Word count : 7.2k

requested? yes

Synopsis : You love your brother, Nate, but for the life of you, you just can't stand one of his best friends, Matt. But when Matt (accidentally?) sends you something he shouldn't, things get pretty tense and questions start to bubble. Just keep it to yourself, no biggie– At least that is until you tag along to a party, and a simple little party game pulls you both into a situation neither of you had expected.

If the two of you were twins, you would’ve been absolutely unstoppable. But alas, a three-year difference was what you had to settle for. Regardless, that never put a strain on you and Nate’s friendship, a bond between a brother and a sister, greater than anyone could ever know.

He’d looked after you when you were little, took care of anyone who even thought to bully you, and even in high school, he never dropped you for his friends, never left you in the dust. He practically went out of his way to include you in anything.

Of course, this did lead to you hanging out with his group of friends more than your own, his being practically family whilst yours was loosely knitted together only during school hours. But that was ok, his friends were nice to you.

Yes, of course there were times you were picked on, times you were mockingly babied, but that was expected with you being younger than them all. You’d gotten used to it, nothing new, nothing different.

But there was one of his friends that really got under your skin, really grinded your gears, just– ultimately pissed you off; Matt. How could he be a triplet yet be so utterly different from his brothers? Especially in how each of them treated you.

Nick was the perfect guy to gossip with, “can I be mean for a second?” becoming one of your guys’ common phrases at this point anytime you two got the chance to hang out.

Chris was energetic as hell and just a pure goofball, making it feel like the two of you were the youngest of the group, even though he was just as old as the rest of them.

But Matt? You two just seemed to have a deep seated, mutual hatred for one another, this distaste for each other. Every time he bit, you bit back, snarky remarks, backhanded comments, sometimes just downright insults, but that was only reserved for when Nate wasn't around, or else Matt would be a dead man.

You'd been laying in bed after a long day of tagging along with Nate and his friends around town, getting to be in one of their videos since it was a pretty packed day and served for some worthy content. Of course, the day didn't go without your regular banter with Matt, definitely causing some footage to be ruined with how mean you two were being.

Your thumb scrolled through your feed, passing by pictures and reels, random posts and content, when suddenly you'd gotten a notification... from Matt, of all people. You furrowed your eyebrows, letting the dropdown message linger for just a moment before it shot back up as if it was never there.

You should've just left it, it was Matt, what the hell would it matter what he sent you. It was probably something stupid just to get on your nerves, or some idiotic message that was certain to just piss you off. But the fact that it was an attachment rather than a text had your mind filling with curiosity that you couldn't help but follow.

Pulling your notifications back down, you let out a soft breath before clicking on his message, preparing yourself for something stupid... but nothing could've prepared you for what came up on your screen. Your eyes widened at the sight that came up, a chill of surprise rushing up your spine, and you nearly shot up from your bed at what you were seeing right now.

A heated blush crept up your neck, dusting your cheeks and the tips of your ears, as you stared at your phone like a deer caught in headlights. Matt's dick was on your screen. A full blown, set up and everything, dick pic right in your messages— no, actually, not just a dick pic, that was a whole ass video.

What was he doing? Did he mean to send it to you? Was that actually his? Was he playing some fucked up prank on you? Why the hell did you even have his number saved?

Your mind filled with question after question, thoughts racing through your head, but, for some god damn reason, you couldn't pull your eyes away from it. You studied the way his hand wrapped around the base, the way it curved just slightly upward, the was it faded into a deep pink that ended in a leaking tip, pre-cum glistening just in the picture of the video alone.

Your thumb hovered over the play button, slightly shaking a bit as you hesitated. No, you shouldn't watch this. It clearly wasn't meant for you, it's an invasion of his privacy if you do, even if you hated his guts... but no one would know. You're all alone in your bedroom, no one else to see nor hear anything.

Just you and your phone that held a life altering video simply at the press of a button.

One, two, three more seconds passed by before the pad of your thumb made contact with your screen, audio starting to play through your phone speaker as the video stayed on the back camera.

From the flash on his phone, you could see the lower half of his body, his shirt slightly ridden up on his midriff and his sweats tugged down over his hips, as he lay in his bed, bathed in a blue hue from his LED lights.

"Fuck, baby.. got me all hard n' shit.." Matt's hushed voice rang through the speaker, washing over you in a way it never had before, despite your many years of equating his voice to the noise of nails against a chalkboard.

Free hand wrapped around his thick cock, you watched as he gave it a few slow tugs, his groans floating through the speaker and making your body shiver with desire, thighs pressing together under the comfort of your blanket.

"Wish you were here, sucking this dick.." He spoke once more, his hand slowly stroking up to the head of his cock before he let out a low hiss, his thumb teasing his leaking tip, drawing slow circles, before stroking back down to the base. "Just imagining your pretty lips wrapped around me's got me all messy.."

Even though you knew, deep down, this wasn't meant for you, a total mistake on his part for sending it.. you let yourself believe he was talking about you, to you.

As he pumped his cock with a steady pace, you let yourself believe he was imagining you, your pretty eyes looking up at him so innocently as you'd take his thick shaft in your mouth, letting your pink, glossy lips wrap around it and swallow as much as you could—

Fuck— no way you were thinking like this, imagine this shit with Matt, out of all people— but as you felt that aching burn between your thighs, that feeling that started sparks anytime you pressed your thighs together, all dignity was thrown out the god damn window.

You held your phone right at your chest level in your left hand, eyes trained on the video as your free hand slowly, almost tentatively, traveled down, gripping and tossing your blanket off to reveal your lower half, clad in only your panties to pair with your baggy nighttime shirt. You mentally cursed at yourself as you let your hand slide underneath your panties, but as your fingers glided through your slick folds, you couldn't give a fuck less what you were doing.

"Shit, baby– just thinkin' about that sweet pussy's gonna make me cum," Matt groaned through the speaker, making you bite your lip as you sunk two fingers into your soaked cunt, slowly pumping them in time with Matt's strokes in the video. This was so fucking stupid... but it felt so good.

A soft moan slipped from your lips in time with a muffled noise on his end, fingers starting to pick up pace a bit as his strokes quickened a little. "Bet you're touching yourself right now, huh baby?" Matt teased from the video, making your cheeks heat up once more in embarrassment. Even though this was a video, it still felt as if he was really talking to you, as if he knew you yourself had your fingers moving inside you, imagining it was him instead.

Fuck, that tore a needy moan from your lips, thinking about him above you, pinning you to your bed and letting his fingers control your pleasure, or better yet, feeling him stuff that thick cock in your pussy. Fucking hell– your past self from just a mere couple of hours ago would be utterly disgusted with you, but you couldn't care less right now.

"That fuckin' pussy would be grippin' me so tight right now, shit–" He groaned as you watched him squeeze his cock on each upstroke, making your cunt clench around your fingers in shared time.

Though, for some reason, a petty, jealous voice rang in the back of your head, reminding you that this was meant for someone else, a different girl who got to see Matt like this, in all his non-shitty glory. It twisted your stomach, yet added to the pleasure as you pumped your fingers faster.

He could do so much better with you, no matter who the girl was. You knew how to push his buttons, how to piss him off and make him fight the urge constantly to fucking strangle you for it. Fuck– his hands around your throat, pressing just right–

"Mm– fuck baby, y' gonna make me cum," His breathy voice came through once more, mixing in with your thoughts and doubling the stimulations that had your body nearly trembling with pleasure.

"Fuck–" You muttered out, biting your lip as you felt that burning heat low in your tummy, your hips involuntarily rocking up against your palm to stimulate your clit, a whine falling from your parted lips as your eye fluttered whilst watching him fuck up into his fist.

"Fuckin' cum with me baby, c'mon.." He demanded with a breathy voice, his voice clearly coming through his clenched teeth now as you both were climbing to that glorious high.

"Matt– s-shit—" You panted, too lost in the pleasure to even realize his name had left your mouth. You tried so hard to keep your eyes on your phone, wanting to watch him come undone in time with you, your thighs starting to tremble as that pleasure built and built–

"Shiiit–" A pleasured moan poured from the speaker as you watched thick, white spurts of cum shoot from Matt's tip and drip down over his fingers, your eyes flying shut just second after, as you felt your own orgasm crash over you.

A gasp fell from your bitten lips, your body practically seizing as the pleasure washed over you in tidal waves, gushing around your fingers as you rutted against your palm, chasing that high. Your vision became white, your ear muffling noises, and your body trembling before you finally came back down, breathy pants leaving you as your chest heaved.

You hardly even registered what Matt said at the end before the video ended, your phone dimming as it slipped from your hand and onto your chest. Your eyes fluttered as you looked up at your starry ceiling, a soft purple glow covering your room from your lights.

You groaned softly as you finally, yet slowly, slid your fingers out of your cunt, the pleasure and desire that once resided in your stomach now turned and twisted into guilt, near regret, and mostly disbelief.

Holy shit. You just did that.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

A yawn rang from Nate's open mouth as he stretched, making his way into the kitchen where you were already, sitting at the counter with a bowl of cereal in front of you, slow bites taken as you swiped through your feed, just like you did every morning.

But a nagging voice filled your thoughts, making your body tense as you glanced up at your brother, watching him turn to open one of the cabinets in search of his own breakfast. What if he found out? Would he cut ties with Matt? Would he be mad at you?

He'd do practically anything to protect you, but you also knew his friendship with the triplets was like a brotherhood at this point. Either way, a bond would be demolished, and you didn't want either to happen.

"You good?" Nate's voice pulled you from your thoughts, making your eyes glance up to his finally after having zeroed in on a spot near the edge of the counter, your posture straightening up a bit

"Uh– Yeah, yeah just.. tired, I guess," You weren't exactly lying to him, you were still tired, but maybe the whole fact that you had stayed up, having a near existential crisis for 30 minutes over getting off to your brother's best friend, was the reasoning in that.

Thankfully, Nate didn't dig any further, either believing you and moving on, or too tired to try and pry, just giving a nod and a hum. Either way, you mentally thanked him tremendously. You brought your spoon back to your mouth, eating another bite of cereal before Nate spoke up once more.

"Hey, so," Your body tensed up, watching as his palms pressed against the counter, his body leaning against it as he looked at you. Could he tell? Did he know already? Fuck fuck fuck– "There's gonna be this huge party tonight, the guys invited me and everything, and I just wanted to see if you wanted to tag along?"

Part of you sighed deeply inside, nearly wanting to kick yourself from how your nerves were getting to you, it was fine, you were fine. The other part of you perked up, physically, your eyebrows raising at your older brother's offer. A party? Like, a genuine, drinks and music and all that shit, party?

Nate had only ever limited you with parties, which was fair, you were too young for them, and most of the time could've ended up with you getting lost in seconds. But you were 18 now, old enough to start having fun and being trusted not to end up leaving with some rando.

"Really?" You asked, mouth still full of cereal, making Nate chuckle before nodding, lifting himself up a bit.

"Yeah, really," He assured you, removing his hands from the counter and crossing his arms across his chest, raising an eyebrow at you in curiosity of what your answer would be. "So? Wanna go or what?"

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Saturday night, 10:00 pm, and Nate pulled up to the lively house with you in passenger, his hand shifting the car into park before taking out the keys.

Your eyes surveyed what you could see only from here, party lights making the house practically glow, nearly taking away from the fact this house was in a rich rich neighborhood, the view of a pool in the background peaking out from behind the house.

You nearly jumped as Nate touched your shoulder, his eyes a little concerned as you turned to look at him, a nervous smile on his lips. "You sure you're ok, jumpy?" He teased a little, making you smile back and loosen your tensed body just a bit.

"Yeah, yeah I'm good, just– adrenaline and nerves starting to pump in is all, first time jitters I guess," You admitted to your brother, watching as his concern and worry quickly shifted into pride and excitement for you, his hand rubbing your shoulder like he always did to help calm your nerves.

"You'll have fun, don't worry, shit's always scary the first time around," He comforted you, making your nerves wash away with ease before you nodded, smiling at him.

"Ok, I'm ready." He smiled bright and patted the steering wheel with enthusiasm at your confidence.

"Hell yeah, let's do this!" He cheered, making you giggle as the two of you stepped out of his car, the cool night breeze hitting your bare legs and arms in your black skirt and golden white, silk top, the fabric perfectly loose and ruffled across your chest.

Music poured from the open front door as you and Nate made your way up the path, Nate stepping into the party first with you right behind him. Your senses filled with the loud music and conversations all around you, the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, perfumes and colognes, all meshing together in an oddly satisfying way.

You hardly even realized Nate had instantly found his friends until he'd given you a quick heads-up of where he was going before he made his way away from you. The nerves sank back in as you looked around the bustling party, biting your glossy bottom lip, your fingers fidgeting with the bracelet you sported with your outfit.

Your feet finally let you move from your spot, snaking your way through people as you spotted what looked to be the kitchen, drinks and snacks displayed for the partygoers. You could really use some water right now.

You let out a sigh as you stepped into the kitchen, spotting the water and grabbing one, but as you went to open the bottle, your peace was shattered by a familiar voice.

"The fuck?" You turned your head to see him, in all his shitty fucking, annoying glory; Matt. You felt your stomach free fall as memories of last night flashed through your mind. Be cool, don't let him know.

Your brows began to furrow as he looked you up and down with a judging eyes, a few of his friends around him still conversing, before nodding towards you. "Who the hell let you come over?" He harshly asked, to which you rolled your eyes at.

"Nate. Who else, dipshit?" You retaliated, noticing the way his grip on his red solo cup tightened ever so slightly before he pushed himself off of the counter he previously leaned on.

You watched him walk up to you, your breath hitching just a bit as he got up in your face with dark, glaring eyes, causing you to step back just a bit before your back touched the edge of the counter. His frame practically towered over you, making you feel even smaller with how he cornered you.

"You can be a bitch all you want, doesn't make you any cooler." He hissed out, your close proximity to him making your heart traitorously beat faster, the way his black ransom tee hung off his frame just right and matched with his sweats, his chain dangling around his neck. Why'd he have to be so fucking close?

You watched as his eyes looked down at the water bottle in your hand, a scoff leaving his lips as he brought his eyes back to you. "Fuckin' pussy, can't even handle some alcohol," He mocked you, before straightening himself back up and bringing his solo cup to his lips. Fuck– did he get hotter?

"Go fuckin' play with your barbies or some shit, this is a big kids party, not a damn baby shower," He chuckled meanly before chugging down the rest of his drink and leaving you to go get a refill.

Your eyes, glaring as they followed him, fell down to your water bottle in hand, this gut feeling burning within you, causing a nagging voice to start up in your head. You were grown. You weren't just some fucking kid anymore, and you needed to show him that.

You tossed the water bottle back and nearly stomped your way through the party, on a mission to go find the one person you needed to talk to right now; Nate.

Snaking through dancing and conversing people, you finally found your brother within a group off to the side, his laugh distinctly giving off his location. You look in a deep breath before you tapped on his shoulder, watching as he turned around to face you, his eyebrow raising with a smile on his face, as if to ask "what's up?"

"Hey– uh, Nate?" You felt like such a little kid having to ask your older brother for something you weren't old enough to have yet, but you weren't backing down from this.

You glanced down at the red solo cup he had in his hand, one that he'd been nursing on for a while now since he wasn't too crazy for the alcohol here, before sighing to prep yourself. "Can I have, just like— one drink?"

You watched as his eyes widened ever so slightly and how he sucked in a breath through his teeth, his eyes glancing away as his free hand went to the back of his neck to rub it. "Shit– Sis, I don't know.." He muttered, but of course, instead of earning an understanding from you, he looked back only to see you trying to use your begging eyes on him.

101 of having an older brother who'd do anything for you: Make sure to perfect the puppy eyes.

"Please, Nate? I promise, just one drink is all, I just wanna try it." You asked him, watching his resolve falter before it finally crumbled, a sigh leaving his lips.

"Ok ok, fine. One drink," You nearly yelped with joy, wrapped your arms around him in a quick hug as you thanked him profusely, promising to keep your word before you dashed back to where the drinks were, hoping that Matt was still there so you could shove it in his face.

You fixed yourself and practically strutted to where the red solo cups and alcohol were. Noticing as Matt seemed to feel your presence once more, you felt his eyes glancing at you in a glare from the other side of the kitchen where he was previously, but you paid him no mind.

Grabbing a cup from the stacks and popping open a beer can, you poured the forbidden drink into the cup, watching it foam a bit before settling. You tossed the can in the nearby trash before looking over at Matt, catching his attention as you flipped him off whilst taking a drink from your cup.

The alcohol burned deliciously going down your throat, making you skin tingle with goosebumps at the taste and feeling of it, a shiver racking up your spine, but you hid it all as best you could before bringing the cup back down to look at Matt.

Watching as he glared at you before rolling his eyes and looking away, you smirked, feeling victorious for once tonight. Who was the baby now?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Newsflash, the alcohol didn't help shit now.

You'd been dragged into a small group who was doing some party games, not even realizing one of them had snagged Matt too, leaving you all in a big circle now as people chatted and laughed, music still playing around the house.

The palms of your hands felt sweaty against your knees, your eyes glancing up to look at Matt who sat across from you in the circle, already noticing his eyes on you before he fixed you with a glare, one you retaliated back with flipping him off. The air lifted just a bit, good.

"Alright!" One of the girls chirped up, her tits nearly spilling from her tube top as she leaned over to place an empty beer bottle in the middle, making you glance down at your own chest in a glaring moment of jealously, before you shook that from your thoughts.

"We're going about this like spin the bottle. Whichever two people it lands on gotta leave and get into the bathroom for 7 minutes, since Robbie's too baby to let us use one of the closets," She teased the party host, his eyes rolling as he hugged one knee to his chest.

"Hey, I just don't want y'all's cum stains on my clothes," He explained, earning laughs from around the circle as he took a swig from his bottle. Fuck, ok, this was really happening. Stay cool, you're cool, it's all cool.

You watched as the girl's fingers grasped the bottle before giving it a spin, everybody around you beginning to lean forward in anticipation. Your heart sped up as it began to slow down, the neck of the bottle finally stoping to point directly at Matt.

Whilst everyone cheered and whooped for him, laughing and teasing him for who he might get, you couldn't help the feeling of your gut twisting, thoughts of another girl's hands on him making your nails start to dig into your knees, partially out of jealousy, and partially out of anger at yourself for feeling this way.

You hated his guts and he hated yours, so why did it matter so much about who he might fuck tonight?

Thoughts dissipated with a simple shake of your head, an all-for-show smile coming to your glossy lips as your eyes trained on the way his ring clad fingers wrapped around the bottle, just like they had his cock last night, before he gave it a clean spin, the anticipation even higher now as everyone waited to see who was gonna get lucky.

The bottle started to slow down, and as the neck of the bottle finally chose another helpless soul, your smile fell as you realized... it was pointing at you.

Your head quickly shot up to look at Matt, who looked at the bottle in shock before meeting your eyes, the tension in the air thickening as you felt your heart fly out of your fucking chest. The sounds of everyone collect "oo"-ing around you two were practically muffled in your ears before you watched Matt quickly reach for the bottle again.

"Yeah, no fucking way. I'm spinnin' again," He huffed out, but just as he was about to grasp the bottle, the tube top girl snatched it before he could get it, tsking at him as she wiggled the bottle from its neck.

"Nuh uh, rules are rules, Matt. No take backs, no redos, it's one shot only." You felt as her hand gently pressed against the small of your back, making you sit up straighter and look at her, a playful smile on her pretty lips as she urged you to get up. "Go have fun, baby."

Blush tinted your cheeks from her words as you got onto your feet, looking over at Matt as he glared up at you, then at the girl, before groaning and following suit, his hands digging into his pockets. "Fine. Let's get this shit over with." He muttered with nearly clenched teeth, your feet quickly bringing you to walk behind him, hearing as everyone cheered you two on.

Breathe, you've got this.

As the two of you walked into the bathroom, he closed the door, locking it — per the games rules — before leaning against it, his head turned away as he stared at the wall instead of you. Your nerves quickly turned into annoyance as you were brought back to your dynamic with him.

"Are you choosing to not have any fun or are you always this boring at parties?" You asked him in a slightly snarky tone, noticing the way his jaw twitched before his tongue pressed against his cheek.

"I'm not fuckin' you if that's what you're getting at," He firmly said, not even tearing his eyes away from the beige, bathroom wall. "Not even gonna touch you, so you can drop it."

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, your signature attitude that always came out with him finally coming back. "Not what I was getting at, dumbass." You huffed, before an idea popped into your head, a smirk slightly coming to your lips. "I know you'd fucking suck."

That definitely got his attention, his head turning to look at you as his brows furrowed. "The fuck you say?" He asked you, venom dripping from his tongue at the face of a challenge, to which you once smirked at, your eyes looking him up and down slowly before you squinted them just right.

"You fuckin' heard me."

In a moment, Matt pushed himself off of the door, music muffled on the other side of it as the two of you were stuck in his little world together. He nearly towered over you, fixing you with a dark, dangerous glare, before leaning into your face once more, but this time, you held your ground.

"I can make you such a fucking ruined mess, you'll be needing me to carry your sorry ass out of here, brat." He spat, low and threatening, but fuck, was it hot. Hearing him talk like this to you in a tone you were so used to, it made that ache come to life between your thighs.

"I bet you couldn't even make me cum, don't even know where everything is, huh?" You challenged back, the smirk on your glossy lips making his eyes glance down before looking back at you, his jaw clenching once more.

"You really wanna fuck around and find out, princess?" He asked degradingly, but the way the pet name fell from his lips had you practically soaking through your panties, memories of last night's video rolling through your head once more. And fuck, you weren't turning this opportunity down.

"Maybe I do, Matthew," A harsh huff left from his lips before, suddenly, you felt your eyes widen as his hands reach to grap your face, pulling you forward and capturing you in a sudden, harsh kiss. Here we fucking go.

The crash of your lips felt like the beginning of a war, of two tidal waves battling each other, each of you trying to fight from melting into it. Your hands grasp his shirt almost frantically, your lips moving against his in an angry, hurried manner, pent up feelings and long-lasting hatred dueling within you two and pouring into the kiss.

Huffs of breaths leave each of your lips between kisses, before you both dive right back in, trying to steal the dominance, but you both knew deep down who held it.

His hands cupped your face, keeping it tilted up and as he kissed you, your hair pressed against your cheeks by the force of his palms, before they slid down your collarbone and chest.

His hands gripped your waist and tugged you harshly against his body, before making you stumble back and hit against the edge of the sink counter, making you gasp into his mouth before tugging his bottom lip between your teeth.

Your hands found their way to the brunet curls at the back of his head, tangling your fingers within his hair as your nails scraped against his scalp, earning a groan from him into the kiss.

He tasted like everything you shouldn't have, everything you couldn't have, all dark and forbidding, addictive and dangerous, the taste mixing with the last shreds of your innocence deliciously.

"You're such a fuckin' brat," He practically growled against your lips, his knee lifting up to press between your thighs, a gasp falling from your lips at the pressure and friction as your hips involuntarily bucked against his thigh, making him chuckle darkly. "Damn slut."

"I fucking hate you." You breathed out against his lips before you felt them leave yours, your head instead falling back as he trailed his lips down your jawline and your neck, biting at your soft skin and earning small noises from you, which you failed to hide miserably.

As one hand stay gripping tight on your hip, his other slid down underneath your skirt, swiping just the fabric of your soaked panties and groaning at how wet you were. "Didn't know you'd be such a needy slut," He cooed against your throat, his degrading words sending pure shivers down your spine.

You ground yourself against his hand, as if begging for him to slide them under your panties and slip them into your needy cunt. But suddenly, his hand left the area between your thighs, and before you could protest and whine, his hand gripped your waist and spun you around, a gasp leaving your lips at the sight of you two in the bathroom mirror.

Teeth bit at your bottom lip once more as you felt Matt grind against your ass, letting you feel the bulge in his pants, a groan falling from his lips as he pressed his forehead against your shoulder.

"Fuck, baby.." He muttered under his breath before his hand came up, moving your hair to the other side of your neck, giving himself access to the back of your neck.

You let your eyes flutter shut as he kissed your skin, nipping and sucking to leave his marks, a soft moan leaving your lips at the warm moment, soaking it in as he ground against your ass once more before growling against your neck.

Suddenly, a yelp left your lips as your upper half got pushed down against the counter, his thumbs pressing into the small of your back as he gave a few more grinds against you.

"Need to fuck this needy little pussy, bet she's just dying to be filled." He chuckled low, his hands lifting up your skirt to reveal your panty clad ass, before his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties and pulled them down your creamy thighs.

The sight of your drooling, puffy little pussy had Matt's mind nearly spinning as he groaned, his index and middle fingers dragging through your folds with ease, pulling a needy whine from your lips.

"So fuckin' wet for me, such a slut." He cooed from behind you, groaning low as he licked his fingers clean of your juices before he brought his hands to the waistband of his sweats, tugging it down along with his boxers to free his thick, hard, leaking cock.

"You're just thinking 'bout this dick, aren't you?" He tapped his cock against your ass a few times before teasing your folds with his tip, your juices and his pre-cum mixing together deliciously.

He pressed his tip to your entrance, but then he paused, making you whine for more before feeling his hand slap your ass, a yelp leaving your lips.

"Beg for it, bitch." He snarled, squeezing your plush ass as it filled his hands perfectly. Fucking hell, your dignity is on the other side of the fucking world now.

"Please, Matt.." You begged him, before another yelp was ripped from your lips as he smacked your ass once more, the sound echoing against the walls.

"You can do better than that, baby.." He cooed low as he soothed over where he smacked your ass, your soft skin turning a pretty shade of pink already. "Beg for it like the little slut you are."

"Please, Matt– I want your cock, want you to fuck me—" You begged once more, whining as you looked at him through the mirror, realizing that he was finally seeing you in a light he never did before, your brattiness reduced to begging for his dick. "Please."

He held eye contact with you for a moment through the mirror before finally smirking, chuckling low and sliding his hands up to grasp your waist. "That's more like it. Now, you're gonna take this dick like the fucking bratty little whore you are, got it?"

You nodded your head obediently, loving the way he seemed to feed off of it, even if it inflated his ego. You watched as he looked down at your pussy, the tip of his cock slowly pushing into your needy cunt, before he suddenly thrusted forward hard, your eyes doing wide as you felt his dick deep inside you.

"Fuck- wait! Matt!" You yelped out a gasp, his thick cock stretching out your virgin walls far too quickly for you to be ready for it.

"What?" He spat out from behind you, before he noticed the way your thighs already trembled, your breathing becoming harsh, and your face burying into the fold of your arm whilst your free hand gripped the edge of the counter so hard, your knuckles turned the same shade of white as the marble.

A smirk came to his lips as everything clicked into place, a dark chuckle leaving his lips as he leaned down to whisper into your ear.

"This your first time gettin' dick, ain't it, baby?" You couldn't help but whimper as you nodded pathetically, hearing a groan fall from his lips at that information before he stood back up.

You braced for him to thrust back into you like that again, but all you felt was his hips giving slow thrusts, his cock pumping in and out of your cunt nice and steady.

"Oh– fuuck—" You moaned, your gummy walls feeling each ridge and pulse of his dick deep within you, pretty little noises falling from you parted lips as he fucked you nice and slow.

"Knew you'd want this after that video, such a dirty little whore." He teased you, making you gasp in shock as he finally brought it up, your head turning to look back at him with your glossy, kiss-swollen lips parted.

"Bu–but I thought you sent it by– fuck– by accident?" You asked him in between moans and trying to hold yourself together as his cock pumped in and out of your sopping cunt deliciously.

A laugh came from him before he spoke. "You think I'm that fucking stupid? Of course not," He gave a harsh thrust into you, as if to test the waters, before smirking as he earned a whiny moan from you.

"Thought it'd be funny seeing you all strung up and nervous around me, knowing that you got off to the one guy you fucking despise," He chuckled, his hips moving in a steady pace.

Of course he fucking knew what he'd done to you, the asshole, and yet, you couldn't find the strength to snap at him for it. All you could do right now was take the dick you'd been begging for just last night.

You felt as he pulled his cock out till it was nearly at the tip, a whine leaving your lips as he teased you, before slamming back in, a choked gasp leaving you as pleasure burned deep throughout your entire body.

The sound of skin slapping skin echoed throughout the bathroom, mixing with your gorgeous, fucked out moans, his hips picking up speed as he fucked you good, so fucking good.

Your head felt light, your mind felt fuzzy, drool was practically begging to spill from the corner of your lips. Your toes curled, your fingers dug into anything you could grab onto, your entire world felt new and yet a mess at the same time, your words turning to nothing but babbles.

"Tell me who's fuckin' you this good." He growled into your ear, his hips snapping against your ass relentlessly, fingers digging into your hips. Holy. Fuck. Nothing in this world could've been better than this, absolutely fucking nothing. The way he fucked into you, his thick cock stretching you in a way you'd never felt before, the way he made you a fucking mess, just like he promised.

"Y..You– mm—" You whined in a slurred voice, so drunk on his cock that you could hardly form a sentence. You'd let him fuck you dumb over and over again if this is what it felt like every time.

"Can't fuckin' hear you, slut," He spat, and suddenly, you felt his hand wrap around your neck from behind, a gasp leaving you lips as he lifted your head up, meeting you with the glorious view of you completely fucked out.

His face came up right next yours in the mirror, his eyes dark and full of pure lust. "Tell me. Who's fuckin' you. This. Good." He punctuated his words with a hard, deep thrust, watching as your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure.

"Y–you, Matt— You!" You choked out, that feeling deep in your tummy starting to flicker to life and burn as Matt pressed a kiss against your cheek before he spoke against your skin.

"What do you think Nate would think? Knowing you're acting like such a cock-drunk whore for me right now?"

You whined, thinking about how bad things could get if Nate ever found out about you two, even if this was just a one time thing. But as Matt hit that perfect spot within your velvety walls, you couldn't give two shits on the matter right now.

"Fuck–! R–right there—" You gasped out, needing to feel him at least hit that spot one more time, the pleasure making your toes practically curl from how good it felt.

"What? Here?" He teased, hitting the spot perfectly on his next thrust, earning a loud, whiny moan from you.

"Yes! Yes yes–" You babbled, gasping as he kept his thrusts right there, practically pounding into that same spot over and over and over again, your eyes rolling back as you felt his fingers squeeze around your throat.

"D–don't— mm— I–I'm gonna— oh fuuuck—" Tears came to your eyes from the otherworldly pleasure, your mouth hanging open as you looked at Matt through the mirror, his figure nearly towering over you from behind as he fucked you so good.

"Gonna cum, baby?" He started to pant, his hand on your hip gripping tight as he kept his thrusts consistent. "Fucking cum on this cock, c'mon, be a good little slut and cum all over this dick." He groaned out.

Your fingers gripped the edges of the counter hard, your legs nearly gave out, and that feeling built up within you, getting bigger and bigger and bigger until—

You gasped out a loud moan, nails clawing at the marble counter as you finally felt that knot snap within you, your orgasm washing over you in a powerful storm, bigger than you've ever felt before, better than you've ever experienced. It was like your world went white, completely washed from what once was, and replace only with this euphoric, heavenly feeling.

You finally came to your senses as you felt Matt's hips stutter as he too hit his peak, feeling warm, thick spurts of cum fill your cunt, painting your gummy walls white as he fucked his seed into you, thrusting a few more times before he finally stopped, his head falling to you shoulder.

"Holy... fuck..." You panted breathlessly as Matt nodded against your shoulder in silent agreement, a soft, weak chuckle leaving your lips.

Heavy breathing filled the bathroom for a few moments, Matt's hand leaving your neck and joining his other at your hips as they began slowly rubbing up and down your sides in a soothing manner. You never wanted to leave this moment.

But soon enough, Matt had to pull out of you, a soft mewl leaving your lips as his cock left you feeling empty, though being replaced by the feeling of his cum started to slowly drip from your cunt, a groan leaving his lips at the sight.

"Fuck, that's hot," He smirked, a playful feeling coming over you as you wiggled your hips a bit for him as his cum dripped down your inner thighs.

Suddenly, though, you felt his fingers scoop up as much as he could before pushing it back into your cunt, a gasped whimper leaving your lips as you turned your head to fix him with a glare, only to be met with a chuckle at how non-threatening you looked after being throughly fucked.

"Gotta keep you filled. Can't let you go without remembering how wrong you were, now can I?" He teased you, loving the way you rolled your eyes at him, smiling whilst trying to keep up a glare.

"Asshole." You muttered, but something pulled at your heart with the way he looked at you, still dark but.. warmer now.

"Brat." He murmured back almost affectionately, before pressing his lips to yours in a low, deep, passionate kiss, his lips moving slowly against yours in a hypnotic manner.

God, you could get used to this.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a / n : worked CRAZY hard on this for a good while and i'm genuinely in LOVE with how it turned out- I really really hope you guys like it since it's my first go at a one shot

tysm @abijojo10 for requesting this, i had sm fun getting to write this and i hope it came out the way you wanted it to 😋

Inbox, dms, and requests are all open, hit me up wheneva babies <33

tags : @sillysillymatt, @jcsturniolo11, @strnilolover, @whore4mattsturniolo, @courta13, @sophand4n4, @blueboeh444, @mattspinkiefinger, @theyluvivi, @thecrawlys, @k4urltzx, @chrislova, @fadedstvrn, @emely9274, @raesturns, @hereforshits-snd-gigglesd, @sophsturns, @brookheartsmatt

(wanna be added to the list for future works? just click this link bby <33)

dividers → @cafekitsune and me

#y2kstarr★#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #dom matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo oneshot #nate doe #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x you #sturniolo fanfic

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