#there is no animosity between the couples by the way maybe some friendly competition over cooking and arguments about pg13 movies

[weirdo-from-bonesborough]

my idea for how to combine pre and post flashpoint continuity is to make billy and mary twins who didn't reunite until after billy was adopted so now the bromfields and the vasquezes are unofficially sharing custody

[roniscloud]

psh - love affair

park sunghoon [f. 8516 words] love affair

so when i’m gonna know what to feel inside, baby?

maybe it’s just all in my head, so

don’t overthink, this is love

maybe it’s just a crush

baby, is this your love affair, your love affair?

synopsis: what happens when two childhood best friends make a deal to help each other’s reputations? an unforeseen circumstance prompts sunghoon to approach you, intriguing not just you but practically every other student at your college. you believe your reunion with him can only end in one of two ways: you resort back to being friends and go on with your lives, or you use each other and once you’re both done, you fall out and never talk again. how will you two navigate your companionship? is it just the nostalgia coming up? a revival of feelings? a new crush? could it possibly be actual love?

genre + tropes : fluff. comedy. the slightest angst. childhoodbestfriends!au. enemiestolovers!au. college!au. fakedating!au. 

warnings: fem reader. a little swearing. slightly suggestive themes, sorta. a few cliches. mentions of underage drinking. the american collegiate school calendar. does them geeking out over fantasy/sci-fi sagas need a warning? unknown mutual pining. they’re so helplessly clueless of their feelings. also appearances of the rest of enha plus txt.

i. prologue

if someone told you that you would reconnect with your childhood best friend—let alone date him, you would’ve laughed in their face and told them to fuck off. park sunghoon is bad news. well, at least to you he is. one of the infamous campus playboys, you can spot him around the quad flirting with a different girl practically every day. 

but to you, he couldn’t have been anymore unlike the sunghoon you grew up with. you grew up with the sunghoon who couldn’t stand being around others, mind always focused on his own interests. you knew him as the little shy boy who would hide behind his mom whenever new people came around. the first person he opened up to was you. you can blame your mom for that. you can vaguely remember her words, something along the lines of mrs. park and i have been friends for longer than you have been alive. when we found out we were both expecting, we knew you two were destined to be besties. 

she was right. everyone thought you were two peas in a pod. wherever one of you went, the other followed. always stuck together, like true partners in crime. your close bond stuck for years. if anyone needed you, you’d most likely be found in the seats of sunghoon’s ice skating practices and competitions, cheering him on and being obnoxiously loud. likewise, he always attended your showcases, spending hours complimenting your artwork.

but then the villain of everyone’s lifetime eventually appeared. puberty. 

alas, your friendship did what anyone could predict of a couple of preteens entering high school. the usual “no matter what we’re gonna stick together!” leading to “sorry for blowing you off, got really busy,” to the imminent “what happened to us? we used to be so close,” and eventually the end of it all. senior year, the two of you attempted to leave on a good note. by that, you mean your parents made both of you apply to the same colleges to have a chance at sticking together. well, it worked, you got into the same university. funny how the universe does things.

back to present day, you’re now in your second year at hybe university. let’s just say, sunghoon isn’t the only one who went through a personality change. sunghoon traded his late night practices on the ice to one-night stands at frat parties. you, on the other hand, traded your once outgoing and fun-loving persona for a more… cold grunge meets artsy introvert. overall, let’s just say you both have reputations for not being the most approachable people. well at least you still have one thing in common.

ii. the cafe

the busy campus cafe was roaring with study groups filling every table. the aroma of fresh coffee and tea being brewed filling the air, creating a warm atmosphere—contrast to the cold winter weather just outside the walls. the college students scattered around, just like their minds scattered as they prepare for finals. not immune to the dreaded time of year, a group of four boys enter, immediately grabbing the attention of those already nestled inside.

a quick roll call of the four known by the student body as en-4, a combination of the dance crew name enhypen and the notorious f4. lee heeseung—the campus heartthrob, captain of the dance crew, center of the basketball team, and an unknown hopeless romantic. park jongseong, although everyone calls him jay—the resident bad boy and party animal, but those close to him know that he’s actually the responsible one. sim jaeyun, otherwise referred to as jake—the friendly and flirty frat boy who you can catch playing soccer in the quad almost every day. finally, park sunghoon—the handsome heartbreaker. he doesn’t need more of an introduction.

the four of them make their way to the counter, placing their orders. of course jake doesn’t miss his chance to sound extra sweet and send a quick wink to the barista, getting elbowed by heeseung in the process. after getting their drinks, they look around to see almost no where to sit. not a single table to fit all of them was available. 

in one of the tucked away areas, sunghoon spots an empty seat at a smaller table. the only catch was there was someone sitting across from it, hunched forward over her laptop. he can’t see much of her figure but he immediately recognizes her features. it’s you. well, a more mature and grown up you, but he couldn’t forget that face for the life of him.

sunghoon’s feet drag himself across the crowded room, catching the attention from the neighboring groups he passed but sneaking away quiet enough to not alarm his own friends. the three are too caught up arguing about what to do. sunghoon can hear the faint voice of jay suggesting going somewhere else while the other two shoot him down as he walks further away. he makes his way all the way up to your side. you look up, scanning him, confused but unamused. “this seat taken?” the first words he said in a year and half to you. still not not giving him any emotion, you hesitantly shake your head once, immediately bringing your focus back to your essay.

ignoring him only works for so long, his gaze not leaving the top of your head. you can feel his stare piercing into you, finally meeting his eyes. “what’s your deal?” the irritation and bluntness in your tone is all too evident.

he shrugs and answers nonchalantly, “nothing, just go along with it.” his answer is hushed, almost as if he’s a bit embarrassed.

“what are you trying to pull here, park?”

“can i not just sit here and peacefully drink my latte? am i that disturbing to you?”

“considering that the second you started walking in this direction, everyone had their eyes on us, then yes, you are that disturbing.”

“they’re not looking at us.” he pauses before continuing with his rant, “they’re looking at you.”

“and why the hell do you think that is?”

“they’re all trying to figure out what could possibly be so interesting about you that i would choose this seat.” he says it like it’s the most obvious answer.

you scoff and turn to see the lingering stares of the others in the cafe. “well, if it isn’t the god park sunghoon being as humble as ever, gracing me with his presence and having mercy on a peasant like me.” the sarcasm dripping off your tongue like venom.

he smiles warmly at your animosity and chuckles. “i’ve always loved your sense of humor.”

“funny cause i’ve always despised yours. i’m gonna ask one more time. what do you want, park?”

he only shrugs. hesitating before responding again, “i like it here. i like talking to you. it’s familiar… comfortable.” he sees your expression change subtly. it’s only for a second before you regain the prior look. he tries to read you. he caught you off guard and his pride brings a smirk to his face. 

by now, he finally tunes back into the situation around him and can feel his phone going off in his jean pocket. he pulls out the phone to see dozens of notifications, quickly stealing a glance back up at you to see that you’re already back to typing away on the previously forgotten assignment. he laughs as he sees the boys blowing up their group chat asking what he was doing. he looks up, finding the three sitting at a cramped booth with shock and confusion written all over them.

“enjoying the attention?” your turn to break the silence. when he turns back to you, you continue, “you’re no stranger to it but you’ve always loved it.” he gives you a slow nod, turning the question back to you. you answer him, “you know that it’s not my forte.”

“and why is that? scared people will get to know the real you?”

“oh please, like you aren’t afraid of me exposing all the dirt i have on you. imagine the buzz i could create with all of your old baby pics.”

he jolts up from his relaxed position, eyebrows raised, and completely on edge, “you wouldn’t dare.”

you lean forward in your seat, elbow resting on the table, cheek resting in your palm, and chuckle, “try me.” the words leaving your mouth quickly and a smile immediately replacing it.

“you’re finally smiling at me. good to know you still have emotions.” he gets you to laugh again. you spend the next 20 minutes catching up. looks like you two kept more in common than you thought. things run smoothly between the two of you, some of your old memories and inside jokes being brought up. “why didn’t this happen sooner?”

“what, us talking? i mean, you and i stopped running in the same crowd and school got the best of us. i will admit, though, freshman year sucked without you.”

he sighs when he hears your admission. “how about this? a proposition. i’m sure you’re aware that i don’t have the best reputation.”

you cut him off, “you can say that again.”

“haha, very funny,” he throws in another sarcastic comment. “you know you’re not exactly the most approachable either. hate to be the one to break it to you but you’re pretty intimidating.” he notices the expression on your face turned into one of annoyance at his last statement, “don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true.”

you dismiss the slight jab, telling him to continue. what you don’t expect is the next four words to come out of his mouth. “go out with me.” he sees your face drop, “oh come on, stop looking at me like that.”

“so i see, a little bit of time without me and you go insane.”

“look, i don’t mean actually date me, i mean… pretend to.”

again, you stare at him like he grew another head. “you want me to fake-date you? what are we, in a k-drama now? sorry hoon, you’re attractive but i would’ve preferred hwang in-youp or song kang.”

now he’s a bit annoyed, answering cockily, “i am so much better looking than them.”

“you wish.”

his jaw drops for a few seconds and then he chuckles. “i’m serious, think about it. we go out and spend time with each other like old times. i don’t look like i’m so incapable of being in a committed relationship and you don’t look like such a loner. no offense.”

“offense taken… but i see your point.”

“see, look at you using that smart brain of yours. this would be no strings attached. just two friends helping each other out while simultaneously deceiving everyone else. i know how much you love tricking others.”

you sit quietly, weighing the pros and cons in your head. “deal.”

iii. bro code

a few days later, sunghoon sits in his shared apartment with the boys, slumped on the couch as they eat dinner. “why are you guys so against it? i thought you wanted to see me in a relationship and now that i’m in one, you guys don’t approve. make it make sense. i should be free to date whoever i want.”

“yeah dude,” pausing to take a bite of his burger, “we get that.” jay answers, seeing how defensive his friend is getting.

jake interejects, “we respect your choices, but like… her? of all the girls that are falling at your feet, you chose her? the one that has no interest in you at all? i know you’re powerful but i don’t get how you managed to pull that off.”

“i feel like you could’ve consulted us about it first. bro code, man.” heeseung says as he shrugs his shoulders and sips on his soda.

“that’s kinda why i like her, because she isn’t all over me like the others. she’s cute and fun to hang out with. just give her a chance. honestly, what’s the worst that could happen? we go out and it doesn’t work. no harm in trying….”

that seems to do the trick as the boys lay off from the topic, going back to their own dinners and watching the latest episode of the penthouse.

later that night, sunghoon leaves their dorm to meet up with you. you agreed earlier that if you needed to meet up and talk that you’d go to the art department. perks of being an art major allows you a studio to spend your time in, secluded from the outside world. in this case, you and sunghoon don’t have to worry about nosy roommates.

when he arrives, he makes sure to take the back entrance like you mentioned. he makes his way through the deserted halls, glancing at each room he passes, and taking note of the various pieces framed along the corridor walls. he gets to the end of the building, finding a studio decorated with your name on the door. he silently enters. you don’t notice him at first with your back against the entrance and the music playing too loud through your airpods, focused on molding the clay on the pottery wheel. he grabs an empty stool, propping it beside you and taking a seat. he takes off one of your airpods, putting it in his own ear.

you finally turn your head towards him, “how long ago did you get here?”

“just now. how long were you waiting?”

you sit up, facing his direction. “i had a couple of classes today and came here to finish some stuff, been here for… what time is it?”

“um… almost 11.”

“then like four hours.”

“you’ve been working on that for four hours? what even is it, and when did you start doing pottery?” he points at the unfinished ceramic.

“not just that. i had some paintings that i needed to finish for my portfolio and those are in a separate room to dry. this,” you refer to the clay, “is just something i’m working on for fun. i got into it cause one of my profs suggested i try another medium.”

he nods along while you explain. “you can keep working on it while we talk.”

you hum in confirmation and turn back to the wheel, rewetting your wands. “so how do we make this believable? seems like people already know. word spreads quick when it comes to you.”

“we just need to act like a couple. so hanging out, going on dates, posting each other here and there, and being affectionate.”

“wow you finally found an excuse to kiss me,” you laugh as you joke with him, him following suit. “sounds reasonable, not much different from how we were as kids, just now we have to call them dates.”

“shouldn’t cause too many problems. just don’t fall in love with me, babe.”

you smile at the new nickname, “likewise, hoon.” you continue throwing the clay, molding it to your desired shape. you hyperfocus on the sculpture, tuning out the boy sitting next to you as he watches—he catches on that you still have the habit of pouting whenever you work on your art. you hunch forward, letting some of your hair fall in front of your face. too caught up, you don’t notice that sunghoon left his seat to stand behind you. he takes your locks and ties it into a messy ponytail. you snap out of your tunnel vision to ask, “why do you just have a hair tie handy?”

“i always had to carry some around for you because you always lost them. i never grew out of it, i guess.” he grins warmly, “do you remember how many times you had complained when you would get paint in your hair and i would have to clean it up for you?”

“how could i forget?” the night ends with more laughs and reminiscing on your childhood. time really does fly faster than you think.

iv. rated pg

the bell rings as you and sunghoon enter the convenience store. you two are discussing the movie you two just watched as you walk through the aisles. 

you split up agreeing to meet back at the register. you make your way to the drinks in the back while sunghoon goes to get snacks. you grab an iced jasmine tea for yourself and an iced vanilla latte for hoon. sunghoon yells over the stands as he browses, “hey, what should i caption for my insta post?”

you respond loudly, “i don’t know, something related to movies.”

sunghoon looks at the picture on his phone: a photo of you two snuggled up in the theater, most of your face hidden in his hoodie. he types in quickly “rated pg for park’s girl <3”, hits post, and goes back to browsing. he goes to grab bento boxes, honey butter chips, candy jellies, and practically everything his eyes landed on. 

when you make it to the cashier, you see sunghoon with his arms full. “you good there, park?”

a muffled “yup” is heard behind all the food.

you look around, walking away when you find what you needed. going closer to him, “why didn’t you just grab a basket?” you start to take some things from his arms, lightening his load. 

“i… uh… didn’t think of it.” he pauses in between, an embarrassed expression adorning his face. you giggle as you take everything to be rung up, missing how his ears turned red. you catch the worker’s name on his tag, jungwon. before you can take out your wallet to pay, sunghoon’s already entering his card into the machine. you whip your head around, ready to tell him off. “nope, do not look at me like that.” you roll your eyes at him as you grab the bag with what you just bought. 

“oh come on… you can’t seriously be mad at me.” no response from you. “really? the silent treatment?” he scoffs jokingly when you cross your arms against your chest. he comes closer to bend down and wrap his arms around your waist. “it’s snacks. it’s not that big of a deal.”

you release yourself from his grasp and walk out of the store, still faking being mad. you mumble, “whatever,” under your beath but still loud enough for him to hear.

he bids jungwon a quick “have a nice night”, not missing him calling the two of you a cute couple. sunghoon meets up with you outside, already sitting on the curb of the parking lot. 

v. pretty boy

the start of a new semester. en-4 are sitting out on the grass of the quad. surrounding them are various groups of students, typical for the buzzing campus on a crisp spring day.

“you need to cook the noodles first. end of discussion.” jake says sternly. he and heeseung are in a heated argument over the proper order of cooking ramen.

heeseung defends himself, “you are so wrong. you make the broth first to build the flavor.”

jay brings his attention up from his phone, “neither of you should be allowed anywhere near a kitchen.”

out of nowhere, a loud car horn is heard, drawing the attention of every student in the area. sunghoon looks up to find you leaning against the passenger door of your car and yelling, “hey, pretty boy! get in.” he chuckles at both the label and how bossy you sound, turning to his friends to grab his things. the three of them are stunned at him.

jake breaks first, “wait, what?”

heeseung lets go of his argument with the australian, “dude, are you seriously leaving?”

sunghoon only nods as he walks away, not letting them ask any more questions. he notices all the watching eyes and decides why not put on a show? he shouts out to you, “thought i was picking you up later, babe.” he makes sure to emphasize the nickname as his infamous smirk tells you exactly what his intentions are.

“lecture ended early, love. prof had some emergency. thought why not surprise you…” you wrap your arms around his shoulders as he reaches you and let him lay a quick peck on your cheek. “now come on, i’m taking you out on a date so either hop in or lose your chance. your choice but i don’t have that much patience so hurry up.”

“yes, ma’am,” he leans in closer and guides his hands lower from your waist. “but i’m driving,” he says as he sneakily takes your keys from your back pocket, 

“you sly fox.” he laughs at the new nickname as he opens the door, letting you sit down before closing it. he makes his way around the hood, noting that all attention is still on you two. he meets eyes with his friends again, the three looking much like the faces he saw in the cafe almost six weeks ago. as he buckles in and starts the car, you rest your hand on top of his on the gear shift. he raises his eyebrows and gives you a charming smile. “by the way, why’s your friend looking at me like that?”

he looks back up to face the boys, “which one?”

“jay. since we started doing this, he keeps looking at me weird—like weirder than the others.”

he tilts his head to the side when he realizes that jay is indeed looking in your direction, but his eyes are focused solely on you. “jay is… how should i put this? you know what i’ll tell you later. for now, tell me where to?”

vi. jukebox

the hazy red glow of the neon lights and checkered tiled floors welcomed you as you led sunghoon into the local diner. this place was a staple in your childhood, your go-to hangout spot with the aforementioned boy when you were still in your youth. 

“i will say, this is a nice surprise.”

you look up to sunghoon as he sits across from you in the vinyl booth seat, “i knew you would love it.” you laugh with each other as you get situated, seeing a young but tall—why is he so tall? he looks like he’s only a teenager—server coming towards your table.

“hey, i’m niki and i’ll be taking care of you guys today,” the giant says cheerfully. “anything i can start you guys with?”

sunghoon looks up at the boy to take your order swiftly, “two strawberry milkshakes, please.” you watch as niki nods and walks back to the counter.

“well, well, well, park… you remembered?” you question teasingly with a cocked eyebrow.

“you’ve always had a sweet tooth. no wonder you loved me so much,” his turn to turn up the typical park sunghoon charm.

you scrunch your face in annoyance, “you should become a comedian.”

“i will never get tired of your sarcasm. it really just… keeps me going.” his way of joking back. “stay here. i’ll be right back,” he says quickly as he looks behind you and gets out of his seat.

you wait patiently for him, assuming he’s just going to the restroom. unbeknownst to you, sunghoon is making his way to the jukebox on the other side of the restaurant. he flips through the song list, finally finding the one he wants. he quickly puts in the coins and sets it in the queue. as he turns to go back to you, he sees an engraving on the side. he runs his fingers along it as he inspects the writing. property of sunghoon and y/n. he thinks back to your last day of eighth grade when you two etched the label onto the wood. he joyfully walks back to your table, ready to let you know about the memory. he sits next to you now, resting his arm behind you and around your back,

“what took you so long, park?”

right as he’s about to explain, niki comes to your table, “two strawberry milkshakes. anything else i can get you two?”

you turn your head quickly to the boy sitting next to you, seeing his eyes are already focused on yours. “um… no, i, uh, think we’re good.” you stumble and stutter a bit. you watch him as he nods his head and walks away. regaining your composure, you ask sunghoon again, “so what did take you so long?”

once again, he gets interrupted. the sound of “purpose” by justin bieber playing over the speakers makes him stop. he gives you a second to register the song, “that’s why.”

you tilt your head down and look at him quizzically, “really? this is why?” you reach to your drink, sipping on the straw as you wait for his answer.

he mirrors your movement, nodding his head in confirmation. he too drinks from the tall glass, contrary to your use of a straw, he opts to drink straight from the rim. he pulls the milkshake away, leaving some on his upper lip.

you burst into quiet laughter, turning your gaze away to not spit out your own shake.

sunghoon furrows his eyebrows in confusion, “what’s so funny?”

you turn back to him, “you got a little something there, park.” you wipe away the liquid from his face with your thumb, popping into your own mouth to clean it up.”there, all good now.”

sunghoon freezes in his spot, trying to comprehend what just happened. it’s quick but he feels something. trying to shake off the foreign feeling, he turns to face forward again. he feels you lean into him, head resting on his chest. a small grin appears on his face, humming along to the justin bieber tune still playing.

“i missed hearing you sing.”

sunghoon looks down at the crown of your head, “really? you used to always tease me about it, though.”

you shake your head with a light laugh, “i never meant it. whenever you sang, it always calmed me. i used to think… if you didn’t pursue skating, you could’ve been a singer.”

“and then what? i would bring you around on tour everywhere and sneak you in backstage?”

“that could’ve been fun.” you now laugh louder than before, him along with you.

there it is again. sunghoon’s not sure what it is, trying to suppress the odd emotion. he sits there, cuddling up to you in the booth, finishing the strawberry milkshakes, just hoping you can’t hear the way his heart starts to beat faster.

sitting at the bar, snacking on fries, and trying to not be seen by you two are heeseung, jay, and jake. they ask themselves would they really be considered sunghoon’s friends if they didn’t follow them and stake out their date.

vii. nerds

sunghoon picked you up from the art department today. he showed up about ten minutes too early, and he got permission from your instructor to monitor your class from the back. he waited outside the door while you cleaned up, earning a few prying looks from your peers as they exited. as you drove back to his place, you agreed to have a movie marathon. 

opening the door to his dorm, you say “we are watching star wars. luke, leia, and han solo are a way better trio than three child magicians.”

sunghoon defends his choice, “first of all, they’re wizards. second, i’m offended. harry, ron, and hermione use magic with their wands. all star wars has is weird weapons and robots.”

“they’re literally in space and excuse you, but does something called—oh, i don’t know—the force ring any bells? they’re jedis, duh.” you rolls your eyes, making your annoyance clear.

sunghoon stops in the hall, “harry potter has spells and potions.”

“star wars has chewbacca.” you stand next to him with your arms crossed.

definitively and matter-of-factly, sunghoon says, “quidditch.”

“you can’t seriously believe quidditch is praiseworthy?” you look at him crazily.

“you two are such nerds.”

you both freeze, turning to see the rest of en-4 sitting in the living room. in the midst of your argument, you both failed to notice the others were home. you realize that jay was the one to stop you two. you also realize it’s the dreaded time for the best friends to finally meet the “girlfriend”. sunghoon seems to realize it as well, reaching to intertwine your hands to both sell the act to his roomates and to calm you down.

he leads you into the living room, meeting eyes with the boys. “so… guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend.”

“it’s so nice to finally meet you! i’m jake. sunghoon here has been holding out on us. i mean, come on, it’s been like two months and he still hasn’t introduced you to us.” the australian continues on with his energetic and positive ramble, asking you questions about your relationship.

heeseung butts in to tell jake to slow down. “i’m heeseung. jake’s right though, you two started dating before winter break and we’re barely meeting you now. sunghoon is always hanging out with you and telling us everything about it. honestly, all i can tell you is to run while you still can.” the others all laugh at his antics.

sunghoon scoffs, “hey, i’m not that bad.”

you excuse yourself to get a drink from the kitchen. you can hear jake spitting out more questions like rapid fire to sunghoon as you walk away. you reach into the fridge, fishing out a water bottle.

behind you, jay enters quietly. “you two are cute together.”

you flinch at his voice, “geez, dude. almost gave me a heart attack.”

he chuckles under his breath and leans against the counter, “sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. i met sunghoon at freshman orientation and we immediately became friends, but i’ve never seen him like this.”

“really hoping you mean that in a good way.”

“don’t worry, it is. you know… he only has a soft spot for you. the three of us are his best friends but he only ever smiles like that with you.” he sways his head back and forth as he rambles, taking a pause between his words. “stay with him. it’ll be good for everyone.”

you smile at his approval, “you wanna know something? he actually said you would be the hardest to win over. he said something about you being super protective over your friends… yet, at the same time you trust their judgement. he told me that when he and i got together, he wasn’t scared to tell you but more worried as to if you would like me.”

he smiles with you now, “that all he said about me?” he asks while raising his eyebrows in curiosity.

“he also mentioned that you’re a good cook.”

viii. proud

a professor of yours is holding their annual spring showcase for contemporary art. every year, a handful of students are chosen to join and display their art amongst other renowned artists. you happen to be one of the few, a top contender chosen for your abilities.

you’ve invited your friends, including en-4 to come by the studio and see your work—albeit a bit nervous for their reactions. you stand on watch by your section, greeting the patrons and waiting for the boys to arrive.

thankfully, they show up within the first hour of the gallery opening. they each show up looking professional and chic, sporting all-black fits—most likely at the hands of jay. sunghoon immediately finding you and leading the way for the rest. you welcome them in, explaining your collection, the concentration being “vulnerability.” the works are a mix of several mediums, majority being oil paint, each displaying a closeup of various people. the paintings show their bare faces, imperfections and blemishes with nothing to hide.

the night continues with more and more passing by, complimenting your collection. by the time the exhibition ends, you and sunghoon are the only ones left in the studio. he’s stayed in the same spot, eyeing one piece incredibly closely. throughout the entire showcase, he had kept going back to the one canvas. you join his side, linking your arm with his. “this one is my favorite,” you hear him say.

you look up to meet his eyes, “why this one?”

“because…  it’s you.” you takes your arm out and moves to stand behind you, now wrapping himself around you and resting his chin in the crook of your neck. he holds your hands in his, “i am so proud of you. times like this, i am proud to call you my best friend.” he turns his head, kissing you once on your jaw, and then pulling slightly back to kiss you again on the cheek.

you turn around, hugging him closer with your arms around his shoulders, “thank you.” you hold each other for a few minutes. when you pull away, you lock eyes. you feel your heart beating against your chest and your breathing getting faster. you snap back to reality when you feel sunghoon’s lips on yours. you’re not sure why you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him back or why he grabs onto your waist while backing you into the wall. he continues placing pecks on the corner of you lips, creating a trail down to your neck. when you let out a sigh and say his name, he stops. there he stands, a few feet in front of you, awkward and unsure of what to do next.

he breaks the silence, “it’s late. i should drive you back home.” he watches as you slowly nod your head. the drive back to your apartment was dead silent. you tried to occupy yourself by looking out the window.

when he drops you off, he bids you a quick goodnight. “um… text me when you get back home.” sunghoon just looks forward, muttering “ok” before leaving.

in the elevator, you look at your reflection on the metal doors. you make your way inside your place and take a seat on your bed. your mind is too busy reliving the moments with sunghoon before. you try to comprehend what you should do but find yourself too tired, instead falling asleep and missing his text.

ix. spring break

it’s currently the middle of april and the boys have made you an honorary member of en-4. you and sunghoon have been pretending to be a couple and successfully tricking everyone for the last four months.

everyone has the week off for spring break. jay, being the generous guy he is, rented out a cabin in the mountains for the now five members of your friend group. you all rode in one car on the way up, and you totally didn’t fall asleep in the middle seat while cuddling into sunghoon’s side. 

you all decide to settle into your rooms once you arrive. “so there are four rooms, two downstairs and two upstairs.” jay pauses, looking towards you and sunghoon, “i assume that you’ll be fine sharing one.”

you immediately answer, “yeah, for sure.” you look to see sunghoon avoiding your gaze, sensing knowing looks from the others. sunghoon and you already guessed that they would make the two of you share a room and truthfully, neither of you minded. growing up together meant a lot of sleepovers and sharing beds so this was no problem.

he continues on, “great, you guys can take the master bedroom on the second floor cause it has the most space. i’ll take the room next to you, heeseung and jake can take the two down here.”

everyone agrees and sets off to their assigned rooms. you and sunghoon drop your bags onto the mattress, starting to unpack. the interior is spacious, the tall glass sliding doors allow lots of natural light to come in. the room itself is cozy, king size bed with matching bedside tables, and a big fluffy area rug. you’re too distracted to notice that sunghoon has gone outside to the balcony. he leans against the railing, taking in the scenic views and the breeze, basking in the setting rust-colored sun. when you finally realize that he’s not next to you anymore, you silently make you way onto the balcony, wrapping your arms around sunghoon from behind.

he tenses up at the sudden contact, relaxing when he realizes it’s you. there it is again, his heart is acting up like at the diner. he’s noticed it more often—the way that whenever he sees you, his heart beats differently. this weird feeling in his chest, this warmth that only shows up around you. he gets lost in his thoughts, envisioning what could become of your situation.

“what’s got you so lost?”

your voice snaps him back to reality. he turns around to face you, “uh… nothing, just thinking.”

just when you want to question him further and talk about what happened at the showcase, a knock is heard on the door. sunghoon walks away, going to open the door. both of you can feel the awkward tension when he leaves his spot. 

“hey, we’re kinda hungry so we’re gonna order some food and watch a movie downstairs,” jake informs you two when the door opens. “feel free to come down and join whenever.”

“yeah, we’ll be down in a bit,” sunghoon tells him as heeseung nods before leaving you two alone again. you both finish getting settled before heading downstairs. you gather around the couch as ponyo plays on the tv and you reach for a tray of sushi. 

the night continues, the moon sitting high amongst the stars. after the movie, dinner, and some drinking games, everyone retires to their respective rooms. you plop yourself onto the bed, tired after the day’s activities. you hear sunghoon getting something from his bag along with the rustling of some plastic. you crane your head up to see him approaching you. he sits on the edge of the bed, now with fluffy headbands and face masks in hand.

you scoot back a bit, “nope. no way you are getting me to do that.”

he laughs lightly at your antics, “oh come on… let me take care of you, at least just for tonight. please.” he gives you a pleading look with pursed lips, dragging out the “please” to show how desperate he is. 

that was the deciding point that led to a spa night. you both changed into comfier clothes, you borrowed one of his hoodies and sweatpants. sunghoon got settled in closer to you and you reached for his wrist to grab one of the elastic bands. you adjusted your position to sit on your knees, reaching up to tie his hair back. he, on the other hand, took one of the headbands to bring your hair back and away from your face. 

by the time midnight rolled around, you two were snuggled under the comforter with face masks, surrounded by junk food, and on the fourth episode of some random netflix show. as the night continues, a wave of sleep starts to overtake both of you. you help each other take off the masks and clean up, getting distracted every few minutes because one of you would start messing around. the boys had stopped by to say goodnight, catching you two in the middle of a mild pillow fight. after sending them off, you fall asleep in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of your shared embrace. heeseung had snuck in at one point and stole a few quick pictures to tease you two with.

the dawn breaking through the sheer curtains causes you to stir in bed. you turn to see the alarm clock on the nightstand say 6:02. untangling yourself from sunghoon’s grasp, you sneak outside. you climb up to sit on the rooftop, feeling the cool chill of the dewy morning. the time alone gives you a sense of serenity.

meanwhile, sunghoon moves under the covers, confused why he can’t feel you. his eyes open and he doesn’t find a trace of you in the room. worried, he gets up and quietly searches the house, making sure to not wake the others. he goes into the backyard, seeing a shadow on the ground with an unusual shape. he looks up to find you perched on the roof, facing the opposite direction. he eventually climbs up to sit next to you. he hesitates before getting closer and putting his arm around you. you sigh as you lean into him. there you both stay, watching the sun come over the horizon in a comfortable silence.

x. disaster averted

the following week, you all return to campus. needless to say, the break was well used—the days at the cabin mostly being spent at the lake or around the campfire. another day spent hanging out at en-4’s dorm after classes. sunghoon went out to pick up food for everyone. you are in his room, trying to cram for an upcoming test and failing miserably because the other three are all playing fifa way too loud.

while the boys are playing, the doorbell rings. jay gets up to check who it is, seeing a young girl and immediately recognizing her. he lets in yeji, sunghoon’s little sister. she casually joins the boys around the tv, catching up on whatever has been happening in their lives. sunghoon arrives back home within twenty minutes. 

“i’m back with the food,” he shouts out loud enough for everyone to hear including you behind his closed bedroom door. he places the plastic bags on the table, looking up to see another face. “yeji? what are you doing here?”

she gets up to greet her brother, giving him a hug, “it’s my spring break and i wanted to stop by.” sunghoon then realizes that his family doesn’t know about him becoming friends with you again or about your current situation. he drags her into the kitchen hurriedly, “ok so here’s the thing… you remember y/n?”

“of course! she’s like my big sister.”

his breath gets caught in his throat for a second, “yeah, don’t call her that. anyways, her and i are friends again,” he sees yeji’s eyes widen with excitement and continues with his explanation before she can cut him off, “and she’s my girlfriend.”

“what?!”

sunghoon panics and covers her mouth with his palm, “fake girlfriend!” he rushes out the whisper. “the guys don’t know that our relationship isn’t real and i’d like to keep it that way. they don’t even know that we were friends beforehand. yeji, i’m begging you to go along with it. please do this for me.” he clasps his hands together in front of him with a pleading expression.

the young girl crosses her arms in front of her and pretends to think about it, “hmm… fine.”

sunghoon blurts out a chant of “thank you’s” not knowing that his sister only agreed cause she always thought that you and sunghoon would’ve been a good couple. he tells her to help the others set the table while he goes to you. he quickly explains what’s happening and you’re just excited that you get to see yeji again. you both leave his room and you make your own way to the living room, spotting the other girl and exchanging glances.

yeji stops what she’s doing to turn and face you, “who’s this?”

you answer back casually, “y/n. i’m a friend of the boys, and you are?”

“yeji, sunghoon’s younger sister.” she says it proudly, bringing a grin to the aforementioned boy.

“oh, you’re yeji? hoon was right… you are pretty.”

she tilts her head and cocks an eyebrow, questioning you “why would he tell you about me?”

jake chimes in like it’s second nature, “i mean, why wouldn’t he tell his girlfriend about his sister?” he states like it’s so obvious. “they’ve been together since december.”

“girlfriend?” she takes a step back in false shock, “since december? why didn’t i know about this?” 

“what? i don’t seem like your brother’s type?”

“it’s not that. i’m just surprised he managed to get and keep a girlfriend. you’re like, way out of his league and he’s a loser.” one thing to know about yeji is that as much as she loves him, she will never miss a chance to tease her brother. 

with a scoff, you finally hear sunghoon join in beside you, “not gonna lie, that one hurt a little.”

“i’m so telling mom,” she says with a mischievous smirk.

you laugh at sunghoon’s shocked face and smile at the younger park, “i like you, i think we’ll get along just fine.”

“i like you, too.” she looks at sunghoon, “keep her.”

everyone laughs at the interaction as they settle in to eat. sunghoon sits to your right while yeji sits on your left, wondering how his two favorite girls learned to be such good actresses.

xi. returning the favor

fast forward another month, the end of the semester means the dreaded finals week again. sunghoon has been, for lack of a better word, slacking on some of his classes and is now juggling to prepare for exams and revisions. couple that with yeji telling his mom about your “relationship” and her nonstop questions, all of this stress has been piled on. this all amounting to him getting sick. 

now, sunghoon being sunghoon means that he pushed everyone away and hasn’t told you about his condition. luckily for him, you’ve been cooped up in your studio trying to finish your portfolio and also prepare for your exams. unluckily for him, the boys have gotten worried and heeseung called you. 

which brings us to the present, sunghoon stuck in bed with a fever, congestion, and neglected notes. a knock on his door does nothing to help his headache but seeing your face meekly peek in makes him relax. “what are you doing here?” he asks hoarsely.

“did you really think i wouldn’t find out?”

he avoids your glare, “i didn’t want you to worry.”

“honestly i’m not upset that you’re sick, but that i had to hear it from your roommates.” you come closer to him, clearing out the scattered papers and textbooks from atop his bed. you sit on the edge, taking out some medicine and cooling packs that you picked up from the convenience store.

“you really don’t have to do this,” he twiddles his fingers in embarrassment.

you tie back his hair and place one of the packs on his forehead, “you’ve always been the one taking care of me, so i might as well return the favor.” 

you busy yourself with getting the cough medicine ready and sunghoon takes an actual look at you. he notices that you’re wearing his old skating jacket, the same one he gave you at your high school graduation. he makes more room under the covers, allowing you to come closer and lay next to him. he drapes one arm over you and holds onto the end of the jacket sleeve, “i can’t believe you kept this.”

“we stopped hanging out and we weren’t in each other’s lives for a year and a half after being together basically since birth,” you pause, a little saddened thinking back. “this was the last thing i ever got from you. it’s all i had left.”

he brings you closer, neither of you caring if you got sick. “well… now you have me again. for good.”

xii. the party

the end of the school year has finally arrived. some seniors from the txt frat are hosting a big party to celebrate. of course, en-4 was invited—mostly thanks to heeseung being close with them. although you have made more friends and now have a more active social life, parties are still not your thing. 

yet, much to your dismay, being friends with designated party people means that you’re getting bombarded with pleas to go regardless. sunghoon took the lead on convincing you, “please, i promise that it’ll be fun.” the boys join in, their voices overlapping. sunghoon practically tackles you onto your couch while pouting and furrowing his eyebrows in desperation.

“stop looking at me like that. i can’t think properly when you do that.”

right on cue, the boys start to tease you. jay clears his throat and jake makes kissing noises, meanwhile heeseung starts singing y/n and sunghoon sitting in a tree… while you just glare at them.

“if i say i’ll go, will you all leave me alone?” 

they all shout “yes” in unison. which is how you ended up at the crowded frat house. although they had begged you to come, they practically abandon you and sunghoon when you get there. jake had yelled back to you that his friend sunoo from his econ class called them over for beer pong.

you and sunghoon find a big bean bag in the corner and stay there for a bit. he offers to get you both some drinks and leaves to the kitchen. you’re not sure how long he’s gone but you eventually get uncomfortable. you start wandering the house for some space to get some air. you find an empty room and make your way into the connected bathroom to wash your face. you take some deep breaths, then realizing that you didn’t tell sunghoon. as you’re about to step out, he enters the room.

“i figured you would want some space.”

“how’d you know where i was?”

he comes up closer to you, “in the sea of people, in this mess, in this frenzy… i will always find you. no matter what happens or who comes into my life, i always find my way back to you.”

“what the hell is that even supposed to mean, park?”

“i mean…” he stops to compose himself, “oh for fucks sake, i’m tired of this being pretend. i’m tired of being allowed to call you my girlfriend in public but not treat you like it in private. when i kissed you at the showcase, i had wanted to do that for so long, and i’ve been wanting to do even more.”

“sunghoon, look-”

“wait, i’m not done. what i’m trying to say is that i want you to be my girlfriend, for real this time—not as a joke, not as a trick. i want us to be together as an actual couple because i like you, a lot more than you could believe-”

you cut him off this time, kissing him like he did all those weeks ago. you kissed him in the way that you weren’t sure what words to say other than, “i would love to be your girlfriend.”

sunghoon shines with the biggest smile, picking you up and spinning around. when he lets you down, he incessantly leaves pecks all over your face. he holds you close, “now, how about we go enjoy the party?”

you nod and lead him hand in hand towards the door. you turn the nob, only to have the three remaining members of your friend group fall at your feet. heeseung landing on top, shouting out, “i fucking knew it!”

[sunkissedpages]

We’re Only Kidding Ourselves- Part Sixteen || Tom Holland x Reader

A/N: okay there is NOT smut in this part I lied but not on purpose that will be next week sljdlkjasjd it got too late for me to include it but that’s a problem for next week me

Prompt: Enemies to lovers au (from @marvelellie‘s 1k writing challenge!!)

Summary: You work as a production assistant for the Spider-Man: Far From Home crew, or rather as Tom Holland’s handler. The two of you don’t get along very well to say the least, but you won’t quit and he can’t fire you so you’re stuck with each other.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of body image issues

What I listened to while writing: the ocean b i t c h

Word Count: 3.7k

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine| Part Ten | Part Eleven | Part Twelve | Part Thirteen | Part Fourteen | Part Fifteen 

You weren’t a huge fan of beer, but Tom was buying the rounds and that’s what he kept bringing over to the table, and what were you supposed to do? Not drink it? It’d be rude, and turning down free alcohol wasn’t really your style.

After a short, unremarkable dinner at an overpriced tourist spot, the four of you had wound up at a bar, against your better judgement. It was odd to be spending time together as...friends. It was different from the Czech Republic, because now the animosity between you and Tom had been dialed back to almost nothing (aside from the elephant in the room he still didn’t know about), and you were still adjusting to it. The friendly nudges on the shoulder, the laughs sent in your direction, the jokes made at your expense- without any hint of malice. They were all things you’d experienced with Harrison before, but never Tom, and it was disorienting you more than the beer was.

This bar was different from the one the mandatory event had been at two nights ago. No one was in favor of going back there, even if you were the tiniest bit curious about whether DJ would remember you. But after getting shitfaced there last time, everyone thought it was for the best if the group of you went somewhere else, which brought you to this hole in the wall. You had stumbled across it on accident on the way to another bar. The walking GPS had taken the four of you down a narrow alleyway when you passed what you had thought was a garage with loud music pouring out of it. It was another, much lower rated, bar, but they had a live band and that was what sold it.

The band wasn’t half bad and the drummer was kind of cute, but you had to yell across the table to hear each other and it was beyond crowded. The band’s sound reminded you of a small garage band from your hometown that had gotten kind of popular when you were in high school. You couldn’t remember their name, but they played a bunch of gigs at bars and you’d always try to sneak into them with your friends. You’d actually slept with the drummer from that band one winter break in college, so maybe that was why you were so partial to drummers.

At some point in the conversation Harrison excused himself to the bathroom and Tom made another trip to the bar leaving you alone with Harry. Your conversation earlier had been so awkward, that you couldn’t think of anything to say now.

“That picture you took of me sucked,” Harry practically shouted at you, breaking the tension.

You hadn’t been expecting him to say anything and it made you choke in your drink with laughter.

“I thought maybe it could be artsy,” you said defensively, referring to how the different colored lights blended together in the background, obscuring him as the subject.

“No, it was just blurry.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you knew everything about photography,”

“More than you.”

“Fuck off,”

Harry flipped you off from across the table and you whipped out your phone to snap a picture of him before he could put his finger down.

“How’s this one look?” you asked, turning the screen towards him.

“Still awful.”

“Give me break,” you huffed in irritation, earning a chuckle of pity from Harry.

“I’ll teach you, don’t worry.”

You were only halfway through your second Peroni when Tom brought over four more beers, since everyone else had already finished theirs, and slid one of them over to you.You narrowed your eyes in suspicion.

“What are you up to, Holland?” you asked.

He raised his eyebrows at the nickname. “Definitely not trying to get you to spill all of your secrets, that’s for sure,” he laughed.

“I’m an open book,” you said, lying right to his face.

He scrunched his nose and shook his head. “That’s not true. I don’t know anything about you.”

You rolled your eyes and took a sip from the glass you were still working on.  “Are you kidding me? We’ve worked together for months now we know each other.”

“You know all about me, literally everything about me, it’s your job. But I don’t know anything about you.”

“Everyone at this table knows I don’t know everything about you,” you said, trying to defer. “Don’t make me look like a fool twice.”

Tom leaned back and took a swig from his new drink. It wasn’t a threat, but it wasn’t an empty statement either, and by looking into his eyes you knew he understood.

“I wasn’t-“

“Hey guys there’s a pool table in the back,” Harrison interrupted, returning from the bathroom. He paused, looking back and forth between you and Tom, unaware of what he had just walked into. Tom cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do you all, uh, want to play?”

“Sure,” you agreed immediately, not wanting to dive any further into the gray area you'd gotten yourself into with Tom. You downed the rest of your beer and hopped down from the stool, leaving the full one on the table behind you.

You followed Harrison to the back of the bar, weaving through the mass of people holding on to the hood of his sweatshirt so you wouldn’t lose him. Harry and Tom weren’t far behind. If you’d learned anything about the Hollands it was that they were extremely competitive and weren’t ones to turn down a challenge so this game was about to be interesting.

The lighting was dimmer in the back, and the music and conversation sounded distant now, but it was nice. Whoever had been last to play had left in the middle of their game, leaving the billiard balls scattered all around the table.

Harrison and Tom started setting up the game while you grabbed a couple of cue sticks from the wall.

“Me and Harrison versus you and Harry,” Tom said, and clapped hands with Haz who was already on Tom’s side of the table.

“My own blood,” Harry scoffed, feigning offense at not being chosen as Tom’s partner.

“Sorry, mate trying to win,” Harrison shot back with a wicked grin.

Part of you wondered how often Tom favored Haz over Harry and if anyone was keeping count. The other part of you was a little offended that you were so clearly the teammate to get stuck with. Another thing to bring you back to high school, when you’d get picked last in gym class because of your reputation for your athleticism, or lack thereof.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes in annoyance. “I’m standing right here.”

“Please tell me your pool skills are better than your photography skills,” Harry pleaded and you shot him a look.

“Guess you’ll have to hope for the best, since you’re stuck with me.”

All the boys knew your coordination skills weren’t...the best. Your reputation of clumsiness had certainly followed you everywhere, but they didn’t know you used to sneak into bars when you were in high school, and that there was a pool table inside of every single one.

“Ladies first,” Tom said, and removed the triangle mold from the table.

You didn’t respond, only brushed past him to get to the head of the table.

You placed the white ball on the felt and aimed your cue stick at it. With a swift hit, it rolled into the middle and knocked the colored balls on the table in all directions. Luckily, an orange ball rolled into the far left pocket, making you and Harry the solid team.

You went for another, but missed. Harry clapped you on the back anyway, clearly impressed you had scored any points at all.

“Nice, y/n,” Harrison complimented once your turn was over, but you ignored him.

“Mate, whose team are you on?” Tom asked with a nudge to Harrison. He shrugged defensively and pushed Tom back, signaling to him that it was his turn.

Tom rolled his head and shoulders dramatically as he approached the corner where the white ball sat. He angled himself loosely, but purposefully in front of it and wasted no time sending it colliding into a ball with a green stripe. Everyone held their breath as it rolled toward the same pocket yours had gone into and you exhaled in defeat when it tipped over the edge and into the woven net.

The whole game was like that, one shot after another, a point and then a miss, making it a close game the whole time. You could hold your own, but the boys had been in plenty more bars than you had and you were all varying levels of drunk, with you on the tipsier side. Everyone was joking and talking shit about each other and somewhere in the middle of the game you actually started to have fun again. You got to show off a trick move your dad had taught you when you were first learning that had them losing their shit, begging you to do it again with their phones out and pointed at you.

Somehow you and Harry pulled it off with you scoring double points towards the very end and him finishing it off with the eight ball on his next turn.

“Don’t say I never did anything for you,” you said, pointing at Harry after he’d had taken a victory lap around the table.

“I’m sorry I doubted you,” he apologized with admittance.

“You should be I just kicked all of your asses and I can do it again,” you declared, not hearing how your words were starting to slur.

“You did not we were tied for most of it,” Tom argued. “And I’m drunk.”

“We’re all drunk,” you corrected him. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Accept your loss with dignity, mate,” Harry smirked and tipped his glass back, draining the remainder of beer from it.

“I’m impressed with your skills, y/n,” Harrison said, holding out his hand for a shake. “Good game.”

You just looked at his hand out in front of you. “I’m also good at skeeball.”

The next few days in Italy passed without much incident. There was still chatter on set about your mistake with the headset, which you always double checked was off now, which you probably should have been doing before. You didn’t even talk over headset that often and after yesterday you wanted to use it as little as possible. You were worried that as soon as it cut off whoever was on the other side of the line would just start talking about you, but it wasn’t like there was anything you could do about it.

You never heard about it from anyone above you, though. None of your bosses on set or back at HQ ever contacted you about anything out of the ordinary, so at least you still had a job. It was probably too awkward for anyone to bring up, which was equally as horrifying as it was relieving.

Every time Tom came up to you you were sure he was going to say something to you about the dream, but everyone was being surprisingly tight-lipped about the whole ordeal, which was unusual for the film industry.

Most of the cast apart from Tom and Jake Gyllenhaal left two days before the crew, getting a few days off before they were due in New York. As much as you missed all the horrible fast food there you weren’t as excited to go back to the States as you thought you’d be, even though it meant you were one step closer to this job being over.

You spent the morning of the last day in Venice packing most of your things so you wouldn’t have to do it ridiculously early tomorrow. Tom’s stuff was still absolutely everywhere, he had yet to pack any of it, and you wondered how this boy managed to get anywhere without losing half of his stuff. You were tempted to start doing the packing for him, but knew he’d only be pissed if you did. He was one of those people who believed that every thing had its place and you knew you’d get it wrong if you tried. Plus, things had been going well between the two of you the past few days and you didn’t want to ruin that by letting your handler side get the better of you.

You were almost out the door to meet everyone downstairs for the day when you got a message from Tom, asking you to approve an Instagram post for his feed. You smiled to yourself when you saw it was the picture you’d taken of him that night before dinner. It had only barely been touched by a filter, making the whole picture a little brighter. You liked the way it made his eyes look, and you liked the fact that he had been looking at you.

He’d tagged Harry in the picture and the caption, since he couldn’t tag you of course (he didn’t even follow you) which you thought was a little overkill, but you sent him an approval message anyway since you were running late and everything else looked fine.

When Watts called wrap at the end of the day it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You couldn’t wait to get back to the room and just read for the rest of the night. Maybe order room service.

Everyone clapped like they did when it was a full wrap day since production was moving to a new location and you usually didn’t like to glorify the actors more than they already were, but you joined in, clapping for yourself since you had made it so far, and through so much.

As soon as you were curled up on your side of the bed with your book Tom came crashing into the room from where ever he had just been bursting with energy. He rambled to you about dinner with Watts and Jake and how he and the boys were going to go up to the pool  on the roof to go night swimming and about the flight the next day and everything in between.You were only able to follow about half of it, nodding where you thought was appropriate and working in ‘uh huhs’ when you had the energy..

It wasn’t Tom’s fault that his presence commanded so much attention, but you wished that at least once he could walk into a room without captivating everything and everyone in it.

“You should come to the pool with us,” Tom said, popping his head out of the bathroom where he’d been talking to you from.

“Isn’t it cold?”

“It’s a heated pool.”

You shook your head with uncertainty. “My swimsuit is at the bottom of my suitcase,” you protested.

“Come on, it’s our last night in Italy. Don’t you want to make some memories? It’ll be fun, I promise.”

You scrunched up your face, and Tom smirked because he knew you couldn’t say no to him, boss or not. “Fine.” His face lit up with victory. “I’ll meet you up there.”

You stood from the bed with a sigh one the door had shut behind Tom. Digging through your suitcase was even more difficult than you thought it’d be, and clothes were all over the floor once you found your bikini.

Putting it on was a chore as well because as much as you liked the print and color of it, it had taken you a long time to feel comfortable in a swimsuit, and sometimes it was still difficult to shrug off the insecurities that prickled in the back of your mind.

You took one of the clean towels from the bathroom and wrapped it around your body, hoping you wouldn’t run into any other guests in the hall on your way upstairs. Since the pool was only one floor up, you took the stairs, bracing yourself for the crowd of people sure to be out there. It was empty, aside from the boys who were already in the pool, batting around some sort of sports ball.

What you hadn’t been prepared for, though, was the view, and the chill. You wrapped your towel tighter around you, not sure if it would do any good, and took a step closer to the railing. The boys had yet to notice you and you took the opportunity to admire your surroundings. As much as you were relieved to be leaving the city tomorrow, you couldn’t deny that Venice was beautiful, especially at night. Small clusters of stars twinkled around the sky, and the moon hung low, partially hidden behind some distant buildings.

It was mostly dark, but a few windows were lit from within. You imagined parents tucking their children into bed who had stayed up past their bedtime, friends pouring themselves another glass of wine, and lovers putting on an old record and swaying to the rhythm until the needle reached the center.

“Y/n, you made it!” Harrison’s familiar voice called from behind you, and you turned, ripping yourself away from the city and all it’s untold stories.

“I did,” you said awkwardly and cleared your throat. The boys were clearly waiting for you to join them, but you were still standing off to the side with a towel wrapped around your body.

As quickly as humanly possible you unwrapped the towel from yourself unceremoniously and dropped it onto an adjacent pool chair. You felt pairs of eyes taking over your body, but you weren’t sure who they belonged to.

Not bothering to prolong what was already a painful process, you stepped down into the water until you were level with the rest of them, meeting eyes with Tom, waiting for him to take the lead.

He hesitated. You realized that for once the positions of power had been switched and instead of you being the one to tell him what to do, he was going to be telling you. You hoped the power wouldn’t go to his head.

“What about Marco Polo?” he suggested and everyone kind of rolled their eyes. “Anyone got any better ideas?”

No one did, so Marco Polo it was. Tom was it first since he had suggested it and everyone spread out as far as they could across the length of the pool. It wasn’t very big, which made the game pretty easy.

Tom’s arms weren’t very long, but he was fast and before you knew it his fingers were brushing your bare side signaling that it was your turn.

You weren’t as talented as Tom was. Your round took considerably longer than his had, and you spent a lot of time splashing around aimlessly, trying to ignore Harry’s laughter in the background. You wanted to get Tom back for tagging you, but ended up all but tackling Harrison into the water on accident. Either way, your turn was over.

You opened your eyes to find yourself clinging to Harrison’s back like a koala. Sheepishly, you detached yourself from his body and pushed back the hair that had gotten into your face.

“All you had to do was tag me, y/n,” he said, grinning and you shrugged apologetically.

“Just wanted to make sure I got you.”

The game went on for longer than you thought it would, and as it went on you got progressively more competitive. You pushed and shoved your way through the other boys to avoid being it again, and you had a pretty good streak going until Harrison got you back by accidentally backhanding you lightly across the face during his turn.

He opened his eyes with horror. “I’m so sorry I thought I was going for Tom’s shoulder!”

You touched your face gently where it still stung from the impact. “Right,” you joked, but stopped mid-sentence when you realized how bad he really felt about it. “Hey it’s fine, it was an accident.”

“I hit you.”

“We were playing around, I tackled you earlier it’s okay, really.”

Harrison reluctantly agreed, but you all moved on to a different game after that. Harry brought out a football for the four of you to toss around and that’s what you did until Haz decided to call it. He gave some excuse about getting up early for the flight tomorrow and hopped out of the water without further explanation. You knew he still felt shitty about what had happened during Marco Polo, but you didn’t know what to do to make him feel better.

Harry went with him since they were sharing a room, leaving you and Tom alone in the pool tossing the football back and forth. You figured you’d just go back to the room whenever Tom was ready since you wouldn’t be able to sleep until he was back anyway.

“What's your middle name?” Tom asked, breaking the silence that had hung in the air since the other two had left.

You struggled not to laugh. “What? Why?”

“I told you the other night, I don’t know anything about you. This is me trying to learn.”

“Well it sounds like you’re trying to steal my identity.”

He shrugged. “Added bonus.”

“It’s y/m/n, but I’m pretty sure Tom Holland doesn’t need a social security number from someone like me.”

“Maybe not, but I hear American passports are very valuable.” He tossed the football back to you. “Don’t you want to know my middle name?”

“Isn’t it Stanley?” you asked and he frowned. “I sign so many papers with your legal name on it, you shouldn’t be surprised.”

“You’re right.”

“When am I not?” You quirked an eyebrow and Tom retaliated by throwing the football further than you could reach on purpose, sending it rolling onto the deck underneath the lounge chairs.

The ball was neglected to be found as Tom continued to pester you with more questions. You humored him and answered them all, telling him about your parents, hometown, college, and how your record for shotgunnning a beer was four seconds.

He listened to everything quietly, only stopping you to boast about his two and a half second shotgun record.

You never thought you’d be having this conversation with Tom Holland of all people, yet here you were, trading stories about near alcohol poisoning under the night sky on the roof of a hotel. 

“Guess no one else wants to swim tonight,” you commented offhandedly, glancing around the pool area that had been empty all night.

“Oh, the pool’s been closed since eleven.”

“What?”

this probably has hella typos but i’m so tired. smut next week!! sorry again for all the confustion. lmk what you think I always appreciate feedback!!

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