#this boy I kinda like has been texting me a lot

[blue-jisungs]

ancient runes and sea creatures

summary. leehan ends up in his worst nightmare - getting the perfect student into trouble

au. hogwarts!!!! ravenclaw!reader x hufflepuff!leehan

word count. 4722 (got a lil too carried away... )

warnings , extras. leehan is intimidated by reader ?? but in a like. impressed way?? also reader is a head girl prefect!!. a slightly suggestive implication at one point but like, its misinterpreted ++ a bunch of hogwart lingo and lore (?). use od leehans real name. mention of a creature that eats humans

author's note. a biiig thank u to @slytherinshua and @gluion for pushing me out of my writers block w this one!!! and esp moni, who tbh came up w this plot!!! i hhope u like it!!! it kinda took a self-indulent route for me (ancient runes as chinese characters haha... haha... and leehan being a mid student w niche hobbies vs the perfect student yn who! shocker! likes! studying... hahah....ha.....) ANYWHO. also love u to death @l3visbby for proofreading!! where would i be w/o u atp....

also i wanted to post one last thing in 2024!!! so i hope u enjoy it and get ready bc ive been cooking <3

leehan fixed his glasses, fingers brushing against the coarse pages of his favorite book. then, he glanced at his notebook. filled from top to bottom with neat, medium sized, handwritten text. here and there were loose sketches and photographs attached with fish shaped paper clips.

the hufflepuff boy looked up at his gryffindor friends - jaehyun and woonhak. they were chatting about something loudly, the sound of their voices blending in with the noise in the corridor. 

sunlight peeked from behind the windows leehan was leaning against, making him feel even more indulged in his own world. 

“we’ll keep going. don’t wanna be late for potions!” jaehyun suddenly announced in his ear and ruffled his hair “see you, donghyun!” 

he just smiled in return, woonhak having goodbye. 

before returning to his book, he let out a small sigh and started looking at the students passing him by. a lot of friends giggling and talking, some people studying or snacking on colorful candy. 

then, as if a lightning struck him, he tensed upon noticing you. 

you were walking with fast pace yet not hurried one. the navy and grey colored tie rustled on the wind, your hair waving gently. a small frown was painting on your graceful features.

“what do you mean sungho is not showing up? i need everyone there” you asked, glancing at your ravenclaw friend for explanation. however, they did not have any. 

“no idea, y/n! he just told me to tell you and wandered off… you have to–” they started. 

“i don’t have to do anything. we have to cooperate if we want everything work out” with a scoff, you turned your gaze away and locked eyes with leehan for a mere moment. 

he felt blood rushing to his cheeks, quickly glancing down at his book. you looked scary. no, intimidating. 

“this thing isn’t here by accident” you gently tapped your head girl badge with pride. “let’s go to class now. i’ll catch sungho later” 

leehan didn’t even realize he was holding in a breath - only when the sound of your voice faded away, he released it. 

he tilted his head and smiled softly, flipped through the pages. he only stopped when he saw a detailed print of a basilisk. quite terrifying yet devilishly smart creature. 

leehan closed the book and packed his belongings, slowly going towards his classroom. 

“oh come on, don’t be such a loner!” riwoo’s whines reached nearby standing student’s ears, causing them to look over at the hufflepuffs. leehan cleared his throat and let out a sigh of defeat.

“fine. who else is going? you know i don’t enjoy crowded places in particular…” he started but his friend already started pushing him towards the exit.

“well you, me, jaehyun, woonhak… and, drumroll please! yes, you guessed it! two infamous slytherins, park sungho and han taesan!” riwoo grinned. leehan nodded, satisfied. that’s a perfect amount of people. “and hanbin”

“just hanbin?” leehan frowned, suspicious. riwoo smiled awkwardly, forcing his friend to move faster.

“and sohee!” riwoo hesitated. 

“and…?” leehan grunted, halting in place.

“that’s all! i promise!” sanghyeok put his hand over his heart “hufflepuff’s honor!”

leehan just scoffed and followed his friend to three broomsticks. it was weekend, after all. going out with more than two people once in a while won’t hurt him, surely. 

it was warm inside, the smell of delicious food hitting his nostrils. donghyun was quick to spot his friends (and their friends). lately jaehyun was detachable from sohee and hanbin. 

eight butterbeers were already waiting on the table, sticking to the wood. 

“you made it, woah! you have my respect!” woonhak, the youngest, joked. sungho patted the seat next to him and leehan sat down, smiling awkwardly. 

“and you? shouldn’t you be on the prefect meeting or whatever?” taesan asked suddenly, sungho rolling his eyes. 

“i should. but if i skip one, nothing will happen” he shrugged, reaching for his butterbeer. 

“y/n seemed pretty upset about it” the words slipped out of leehan’s lips before he could realize it. everyone looked at him, a bit shocked, so he quickly added: “i heard it when she was passing me by. nothing crazy, it’s not like i talk to her or something” 

the mere thought of standing near you terrified him, not to mention talking. donghyun didn’t know how sungho –  or anyone, really – was doing that. 

“she’s being dramatic. miss perfect… she decided to be in charge of organizing almost everything this year, at least it feels like it” sungho mumbled. 

“yeah, it’s crazy how she manages to do it all. well, let’s just hope she won’t cast melfors jinx on you” jaehyun teased 

“his head is as big as a pumpkin already, though” taesan snickered and was met with sungho’s fist on his shoulder. 

you were sitting on the grass, crossing out the ideas that seemed foolish. the weather was cold, yet snow hasn’t fallen yet. even though it was november, you were in charge of organising events for students that are going to stay at hogwarts during christmas. you being one of them. 

well, it wasn’t fully your responsibility - other prefects were supposed to help. 

“stupid sungho…” you mumbled, wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck. 

you looked up and adored the view in front of you. the last of leaves falling off trees, being swept by wind. here and there you could see some students but during this cold season, majority preferred to stay inside. then, you noticed a particular silhouette. 

someone was squatting dangerously close to the lake. 

you stood up, packing your belongings in a rush. 

as you approached the reckless student, you noticed the yellow and black colors of hufflepuff. of course. you opened your mouth to scold their behavior but you heard a quiet murmur. 

“hm? how did you get here, little one? you belong to the island. you couldn’t have possibly swam over here” 

you leaned a bit forward and peeked over the hufflepuff student’s shoulder. he was gently reaching his pointer finger out to a bowtruckle.

the small, green creature was staring at the stranger, big brown eyes blinking slowly. it slowly meet half-way with the person’s finger. 

“you’re not as shy as you friends” a low chuckle made you smile “i should get you back there… but how?” 

the person rose their head up and looked around. the bowtruckle pointed at you. 

“oh?” the student tilted their head and looked through their shoulder, meeting your curious gaze. you gasped, getting caught. 

the guy’s eyes widened, lips tightening. 

“oh” he mumbled. you frowned, his features looking somehow similar. 

the hufflepuff boy stood up, acting as if he did not just hid the small creature in his pocket. he tried to walk away but you stopped him. 

“hey! it’s dangerous to be out here” you cleared your throat. the guy stopped in his tracks, back facing you “do you have an idea what kind of beasts are there?”

a soft smile cracked on his lips, eyes trained on the ground. 

“kelpies, grindylows, selkies… and oh, the giant squid. man, they are so…” he whispered and you were certain he thought his words didn’t reach you. yet, they did. you smiled, realizing he was probably another creature-obsessed student.

“anyway, i do appreciate your care towards this little fella. however, it would be better if hagrid took care of him” you looked at him with a straight face. the hufflepuff boy kept avoiding eye contact and failed to notice the silly bowtruckle escaping from his pocket. 

the green creature ran down his pants and started making circles around you. 

“i, uh… i don’t know how to hold him” you scoffed, trying to catch it. 

“like this. make sure not to tug the leaf on its head…” he breathed out and caught the bowtruckle, holding it in two hands. 

awkward silence fell between you two, the boy stubbornly keeping his head low. 

“i’ll keep going” he mumbled and wandered off to hagrid’s hut, leaving you puzzled and somehow intrigued.

“hey, chill out” sungho nudged your shoulder, casing your fountain pen to jerk and leave a crooked line. you glared at him.

“i would if someone helped me. i still have to come up with ideas for the three last days and i need to turn them in to mcgonagall by friday” you huffed and tossed your notebook aside. 

sungho puffed his cheeks and looked over at taesan for help. he just shrugged, carelessly tucking his hands into his pockets.

“don’t look at me. i’m not even a prefect” his cat-alike smirk made you even more frustrated.

“okay, well… maybe try asking some students what would they want to do?” sungho proposed, scanning your face to gauge your reaction. you let out a small huff.

“see, here we go. thanks. now i just have to ask around who’s staying…” you groaned and noted down the idea, closing your notebook. “but i’ll do that later. now i’ll go, i promised professor snape to help him clean the classroom. a reckless student just… caused a mess, so to say” 

the exchanged amused looks and you raised your eyebrows. 

“what?” 

“nothing. have fun” sungho snorted. his gaze suddenly snapped up to someone else and he waved. you noticed three people walking up. 

one of them looking similar.

“hey, myungjae, do you happen to know someone who’s staying at hogwarts during christmas?” sungho asked, leaning on the table. your fingers twitched at the sight of him almost spilling a cup of juice with his elbow.

“well, uh… our leehan and ricky, i think. and zhanghao. and hanbin, he promised to stay with them so they wouldn’t feel lonely” a boy in gryffindor uniform answered and looked at you, a wide smile painting on his lips.

“you’re staying?” taesan asked. you looked at the only hufflepuff boy in the group. so that was leehan?

“yeah” he answered shortly, purposefully averting his gaze from you. 

“why–?” taesan kept asking and you just sighed. 

“is there anything you would like to do? during the break. i need to organize events for students so i figured it would be the best idea to ask them personally” you crossed your arms. 

everyone looked at the guy, his head tilted down and eyes glued to his shoes. 

“what’s up with him?” the other gryffindor student whispered. 

you waited for a moment before shaking your head. that seemed to work on the boy - he finally looked at you, shyly. 

“it’s a hard question, i know. just… hit me up once you figure it out” you sent him a soft smile and went your way. 

“what’s up with you? is the potion blowing up in your  face still on your mind?” jaehyun laughed and nudged leehan’s shoulder. 

“so that was him after all” taesan snickered. 

“chill out, donghyun. y/n is really cool, don’t need to be all tensed up around her” sungho teased. leehan looked around, scanning the great hall. some people were looking their way - but that was probably nothing serious, right? just a bunch of losers, a prefect and the head girl prefect that’s an all a student.

“earth to leehan! why are you staying here?” jaehyun asked, waving his hand before the hufflepuff boy’s eyes. 

a playful smile painted on leehan’s lips before he explained his reasons to his friends. 

rushing through the dark hallway, you pressed your textbook closer to your chest. it was way past the curfew and you hoped flich was done with his late patrols on this side of the castle. you just happened to get too focused on ancient runes and–

“oof-!”

you felt the impact of bumping into something and almost landed on the ground when a strong hand prevented you from falling. you squeezed your eyes, the darkness not allowing you fully to recognize the stranger.

“y/n…?” his soft voice rang familiar and you glanced at his uniform. the yellow badge with a proud badger adorned his chest.

“leehan, right?” you scoffed and he helped you regain balance, taking a step back. that way, the moonlight sneaking through the windows fell on his face, highlighting his features. 

he fixed his glasses, brows slightly furrowed.

“what are you doing here?” you whispered, blinking slowly. even though your prefect instincts kicked in, you were genuinely curious. 

this boy had just a mysterious aura to him. always so aloof, almost distant. nowadays, you caught yourself noticing him, usually alone reading a book or doing something. something, indeed. just like when you saw him near the lake. he always seemed to be looking for some kind of creatures. you couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to.

“i… uh, i was researching” he smiled gently. his gaze was fixed on you - unlike other times. maybe he didn’t feel so shy now that the midnight darkness was surrounding you two. you thought it was cute. “and, uh… you?”

“ancient runes. they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun” you smiled and nudged his arm gently “let’s go together, our dorms are in the same direction”

he nodded and followed you, the quiet sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor.

“did you think about the question? it’s okay if you haven’t, i was just curious” you asked, glancing at him.

“personally, strolling around hogwarts at such hour is nice. i wouldn’t mind it if i was able to do it without the possibility of getting in trouble” he answered. you agreed.

“i haven’t thought about that. hm. maybe it’ll be possible since there’s gonna be less students. i’ll talk to mcgonagall about it” you hummed “thanks” 

“and, uh, did you get it all done? like, the events” his voice was quiet. he wasn’t shy but more so, he was cautiously picking his words. 

“yes but there’s not going to be much. people i asked didn’t seem interested” you sighed.

“it’s a shame, you’ve been working hard to come up with anything” leehan sent you a reassuring smile. a strange glint sparkled in his eye, some kind of sadness. 

“what can i do? i guess they want to be alone, apparently” you scoffed.

“meow”

you two froze, feet glued to the floor. leehan looked at you, wide eyed. 

before you could realize, he was pulling you to hide behind a column. with your head squished against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding as if it was about to rip out of his ribcage. 

his hand naturally rested on your head, the soft fanning of his breath against your hair. 

the sound of footsteps was coming closer and closer as you tried to think of something. 

a sudden beam of light caused leehan to squint his eyes, pulling you slightly closer. 

“what an absurd! not only it is after curfew, you are also… doing things that should be kept private! this place is coming to an end! who would have thought, students… of opposite-!”

“what? no! it’t not like that!” you choked out, turning around on your heel. 

“mrs l/n?!” filch gasped, and mrs norris’ loud meow was almost soul ripping “out of all people! you?”

“no, it’s not like that! we just…” leehan’s voice was quiet, almost stuttering. 

“yes? explain your red faces then! someone who was caught wouldn’t be such a blushing mess! dear merlin, what is going on with those youngsters nowadays!” the caretaker whined.

“we weren’t doing anything, mr filch! we just- we tried to hide! from you, it is. not from you as in… we didn’t-” you tried to explain. when you turned around to check up on the ravenclaw boy, he was indeed as red as the gryffindor representative color. his eyes were glued to the ground and you could swear you saw sweat dripping down his temple.

“detention!”

his eyes snapped up, wide as two prophecy orbs. panic written all over his face, fingers fiddling. 

“it’s my fault. let’s not bring y/n into this” he spoke up, swallowing hard. 

“how so? i see you two. not just you, boy” mr filch said with an attitude, picking up mrs norris. “i’m not repeating myself. detention. madam pince needs help in the library, so it’s just perfect” 

“but-” leehan tried to cut in but the cat interrupted him with an aggressive hiss. 

“now go! before i take points from your houses!” the caretaker tsked and you ran off, grabbing his hand. you could only hear distant murmurs “the head girl… youngsters are getting worse and worse each year…”

once out of his reach, almost at the ravenclaw dormitory, you realized you’re still holding his hand. leehan halted, gasping.

“i’m so sorry, y/n! i don’t know what’s gotten into him but i’ll do it myself. please, don’t bother–” the hufflepuff boy started rambling, avoiding your gaze. was he scared you’re angry at him?

you gently put your hand on his arm.

“hey” 

leehan slowly looked into your eyes; however, just for a split second. his breath was heavy in the silence. 

“it’s alright. i can handle one detention. in the library? it sounds like a pleasure to me” you huffed, trying to cheer him up. poor boy, he must’ve really felt guilty. “he got so pissed because he has never felt the touch of a woman. mr filch got jealous, that’s all” 

you chuckled but leehan remained quiet. well, maybe that was a failed attempt at trying to cheer him up. 

“i, uh. anyway, i’m sorry too. don’t beat yourself about it, okay?” you whispered, patting his arm. leehan’s small nod made you content. “sleep well, leehan” 

he felt your hand slip off his shoulder. 

maybe if he wasn’t too ashamed to look up, he would’ve noticed the way you looked back at him before entering the dormitory.

leehan was standing between the bookshelves, enjoying the smell of books. the library was quiet, thanks to the majority of students having left already. even madam pince wandered off to somewhere. 

“hi”

he turned his head to the side and was shocked to see you. out of your ravenclaw uniform, at that.

“hi” he whispered and quickly returned his gaze to the book he was holding. he gulped nervously, his adam’s apple bobbing.

it was his worst nightmare, actually. bringing the all-star student into detention with him. even though the fault was technically on both sides, he couldn’t help but feel guilty. you should be resting and not… 

“how’s it going?” you asked quietly, standing next to him. your back faced the bookshelf he was facing, side profiles matching. 

“it’s quite pleasant, to be frank” he mumbled in response “you didn’t have to come here”

you scoffed and scanned all the books, laying in messy piles. they really needed reorganizing.

“would i really be able to call myself a student without getting in trouble even once?” you snickered, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “i told you not to worry about it, leehan”

silence fell between you two, only the sound of him flipping the pages bringing warm comfort.

“it’s donghyun, actually” he said softly with a twinge of happiness. you cocked your head and glanced at him, grabbing a random book. “leehan is a nickname that just… stayed. donghyun is my real name”

“it’s pretty” it slipped out of your lips before you could realize, so you just hung your head low and decided to think of a strategy on how to resort the books. leehan smirked and put the book he was holding on one of the shelves. to break the awkward tension you accidentally created, you cleared your throat “uh, did you take care of that bowtruckle back then?”

“bowtruckles aren’t really my thing so i took it to hagrid. he promised me to get it back to its home tree” he hummed, reaching for another book. he ran his fingers over the navy colored cover, the remaining letters of a handwritten title barely there anymore.

“so what is, then?” you asked. 

even though you didn’t have to be quiet, you two kept talking softly. you couldn’t put your finger on it but maybe it was the overall atmosphere of the library. alas, you wouldn’t say you minded. it was comforting.

“sea creatures” donghyun answered with a soft sigh. did you irritate him? 

“sorry. you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. i’m just curious about you” you mumbled. 

your shoulders were touching and you felt his arm move now and then whenever he reached out to put away a book. 

leehan hummed in deep thought, far away with his thoughts - hence, he didn’t hear you.

he never would have thought that he would be conversing with you. you were just so out of his league and intimidated him. good grades, friends with everyone… but deep down it was your organization skills. you just had it all together. despite all those side things you took care of, you still managed to find time to study. heck, you even liked it? he recalled your conversation from the hallway. what did you say about ancient runes…?

“they are quite relaxing to me, it’s just… i write them all over to remember how they look. once i nail that i feel like i can read them properly. but just the writing itself… is, yeah. time consuming but fun.” 

how can one find thousands of new icons to learn, memorise and remember… relaxing. he was a bit jealous that you did it so effortlessly. 

and sure, he heard you complaining about tests and exams. but you still passed with ease. unlike him, who no matter how much he studied, still barely passed. 

“ouch!”

a soft thump of a book falling brought him back to life. 

he leaned down to pick it up but only bumped against your forehead. 

blood rushed to his cheeks out of embarrassment. but you just giggled and took the book, putting it back. 

he must have been zoned out for a while because he noticed you did one of the shelves already. 

you grabbed another book. it had a black cover and no title whatsoever. you started flipping pages to check what even it’s about. leehan, who was peeking through your shoulder, saw a glimpse of an interesting drawing.

“the giant squid” he placed his finger before you closed the book. you were startled a bit and looked around to meet his face quite close to yours. 

yet, his brown eyes were fixated on the creature.

“do you know it’s semi-domesticated? on the chocolate frog cards its described as “the bane” of hogwarts’ students who wanted to go for a “dip in the lake”. it’s so dumb. first of all, it lives very deep in the lake, so even a small dip wouldn’t hurt. and secondly, it’s harmless. it…” he hesitated and a shy smile formed on his lips. you couldn't help but smile as well “it even allows students to feed it bread”

“really?” you asked in disbelief, turning your gaze to look at the drawing of a giant squid. donghyun’s low hum of confirmation made shivers ran down your spine.

“toast to be specific” he added and you felt a movement.

leehan stepped closer and you could feel his body almost pressing against yours, his breath softly fanning over your cheek. the hufflepuff leaned closer to read the information. right, of course.

“but you know, it must be because its magical. true giant squids, architeuthis i think, wouldn’t be able to stand our lake’s lack of salinity. and normally, it wouldn’t digest food” donghyun shrugged. you didn’t know what was happening to you - you couldn’t prevent your smile from growing. listening to him rambling about his niche sea creature interest really warmed your heart.

oh, this boy got you whipped.

“i think it’s a subspecies. like kneazles and mundane cats” leehan added, his finger tracing the black inked illustration of the squid’s tentacles.

your breath hitched. you wanted to reply, to throw a comment. but you realized you had no knowledge in this discipline, making you even more intrigued with donghyun.

“i really want to see it one day. maybe in summer. sometimes it plays with students, you know? lays out its tentacles out of the lake and just… lets the students mess with it” he tsked “hopefully…” 

“i’d like to see that” you giggled. you heard a faint gasp and glanced at him. his eyes snapped back at you, as if he just realized he’s been rambling. 

“i’ll take you with me, then. i planned on going at the end of the year, just before leaving for summer break” he shot you a soft smile, small crinkles forming around his eyes (and you swore your knees just went weak). 

“i’m in” you grinned and gently moved his finger out of the book. then, you closed it and stood on your tiptoes to put it on the higher shelf.

however, you couldn’t reach.

“let me help you” donghyun’s tender voice once again rang from behind you. 

soon enough, you felt his warm hand on your hip as he took the book from your hand and placed it for you. for a mere moment you could feel his chest pressing against your back, the smell of his cologne invading your senses like a swarm of butterflies whirling around you.

you didn't even realize when the hufflepuff boy was back in his position, putting back the rest of the books. and further on ramling about sea creatures.

“there was also a case of the giant squid helping a student that had fallen into the lake…”

sitting on a nearby bench, you were writing the ancient runes to form a sentence. actually, you were writing in your journal about today’s date with donghyun. his own notebook was laying next to you - he was afraid to get it wet. 

“ah, y/n, quick! a grindylow!” he yelped and you shot to your feet, dropping your journal onto the bench. with snow crunching underneath your feet, you sprinted towards the hufflepuff boy. he had his scarf and hat on, pink nose peeking from the layers. 

“how did it come here?” you asked curiously, quickly joining his side. 

leehan's  gloved hand grabbed yours and pointed at the quickly swimming creature. it was barely visible due to its dark color blending with the green shade of the lake but you could see its outline. 

“my bet is looking for food. they like fish. or maybe it was bored. or…” donghyun hesitated, looking over at you. you shifted your gaze at him, looking at his big brown eyes hidden behind his glasses. “or… it came here for its prey!”

donghyun suddenly wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground and spinning around. you squealed, taken by a surprise. 

“they don’t eat humans!” you whined when he put you down.

“uh… sure…” he chuckled and reached to the pocket of his puffy jacket. he grabbed some dried algae and threw it into the water. you moved closer to him, suddenly scared. interlocking arms with his, you snuggled onto his side.

“it eats people?” you asked quietly as you saw the creature swimming closer to the food. its head poked out of the water surface, small, black, shiny eyes looking at you before taking a bite of the algae.

leehan snickered and grabbed your chin, eyes locking with you.

“only cuties like you” he grinned and moved his yellow and black scarf out of his face. then, he leaned closer and kissed you softly. even though his lips were cold, you felt warmth spreading through your body. you smiled into the kiss and pulled him even closer by the scarf. 

who would have thought that two days after the detention you’d gain the courage to ask him out. 

he pulled back slightly, first looking at your lips with a smirk and then back in your eyes.

“and humans. but only the grown grindylows and that one is still a baby” he grinned. and before you could even roll your eyes, he pulled your ravenclaw-colored hat down and covered half of your face. with a giggle, he pulled you closer.

masterlist <3

taglist. @slytherinshua ,, @weird-bookworm

[a-land-of-infinite-wonders]

Actually losing the will rn

[ratatatastic]

you can tell who actually came here to fish and knows the horrors of the sun and who is just here for fun silly pr and have no intentions to deep sea fish

[astramachina]

every time my brain goes "wouldn't it be cool if there was a story--" i have to pull out a spray bottle filled with bleach because no it would not be cool to add yet another egg to the idea basket. there is no space. i cannot cook the eggs fast enough. stop it. there's a hole in the wicker i can no longer fix.

[anam-mana]

It fascinates me that Alistair gets lumped in with the “Chantry Boys” in discussions about Dragon Age Archetypes because it’s just. Very untrue. But it’s an idea the text actually pushes you to connect with in a way I think is purposeful.

This guy introduces us to the lore of the Blight by asking if we want “the chantry version or the truth.” If we ask if they’re not the same thing he smirks and says with some attitude “they rarely are.”

He sums up his religious beliefs saying he’s “not especially” Andrastian, and that “believes in the Maker well enough.”

He’s actually LESS religious than Zevran, who describes himself as fully Andrastian with a regular prayer routine in optional conversation branches.

The things that people use to categorize Alistair’s supposed “Chantry Boy” boy status all have non-religious motivations.

For example, the big one, his virginity, is because 1. He’s nervous around women, which is the gender he finds most attractive 2. He’s actually the youngest Party Member, being freshly 20 years old. 3. And most importantly, he correlates sex with love and was brought up to see them as requiring the other and so feels uncomfortable having sex without what he sees as “true love.” And he just hasn’t been in love yet.

Another example would be his reaction to the Urn of Sacred Ashes. He reacts with wonder akin to Leliana where many others react with a contrasting blasee attitude. Even the Andrastian Zevran.

But you gotta read between the lines here. Zevran doesn’t hold remains as sacred. He’s an assassin. So his prophet’s body is in that urn. It’s a body. The least remarkable and most mundane, perhaps even the hardest to swallow, thing she could ever be to Zevran is a corpse. Kinda takes the wonder out of faith for an assassin if she dies and rests just like any one else.

But Alistair is fascinated, in awe. 1, probably because the Chantry he doubts so much now has some kinda proof that something they said was true, unlike what he previously believed. 2, Alistair is WAY more patriotic than he is religious and we gotta remember that the Fereldans pride themselves on Alamari heritage, and Andraste was probably the most powerful and influential Alamari person to ever live. 3, he’s actually a giant history buff. He info dumps history on you often, with the memorized readings of whatever question you ask. If asked about the King and Loghain before the betrayal at Ostagar, he shows respect for Loghain’s service in the War for Independance, and knowledge of his tactics. And when speaking about his time in training with the chantry as a child, he says the education was actually what he liked most. And a lot of his gifts are things like replica soldiers, Fereldan historical things, maps, (along with his interest in magical artifacts but that’s for another day.) etc. Given his patriotism and love of learning history, yeah, the Urn is a big deal to him.

I have more things I could say, but really, I just find Alistair to be one of the most misrepresented by fandom characters. His character has a TON of subtext that challenges you to look beyond what others represent him as and the low opinion he holds of himself.

The perception of him as Andrastian and devout is one pushed on him by people like Morrigan (and others to some degree) who fights Alistair more like a straw man representing society than she engages with him as himself. She sees him as a Templar even though he left the order specifically because they abused him And he fundamentally disagreed with their practices, The Harrowing specifically being what pushed him to fight to leave.

There are, textually, two ways to interpret Alistair. Through face value aesthetics and symbolism pointing to association with the Chantry and by observing other’s opinion of him. Or through actually listening to what he says and watching what he does.

And it’s just interesting to me that a lot of people get caught in the trap of what he represents aesthetically rather than who he is.

[zreamy]

i'll love you forever

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

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

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

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

word count: 21,858

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

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

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

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

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

Or to you. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the night was missing its usual comforts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon cries again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunghoon, a word?” you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You will?” 

“Yes. Goodbye.” 

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

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

With a lump in his throat, Sunghoon nods. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“From here?” he asks, incredulous. 

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

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

“Open the boot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until tonight at least. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers. 

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s looking, boyfriend.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You two okay back there?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What for?” 

“Everything.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t.” 

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

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

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

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

“Nowhere.” 

“You told him you were staying on campus?” 

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

“So you just left?” 

“Does it make a difference to you?” 

Sunghoon nods.

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

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

“Was it?” he asks. “Because of me?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I still should’ve been there.” 

“You’re here now, right?” 

Sunghoon nods, earnestly. “Always.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

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

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

“What’s this for?” she asks. 

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

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

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

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

His chest tightens when you start crying. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t respond. 

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

“But you’re so pretty,” you coo. 

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

“Go back to sleep,” he says. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, me too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: I missed you so much.. 

hoonie: 🤍

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

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

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

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

“The longest of my life.” 

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

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

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

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

“You’re disgusting.” 

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

“Shut up.” 

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

“Don’t touch him.”

“Oh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: sounds good, see u later 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Do you want to head to class together? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums, nodding his head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Deal.” 

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

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

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

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

“How are your notes so good?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes. It’s three a.m.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You seem fine to me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me.” 

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

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

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

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

Yeonjun did.

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

Oh, you think. Lovesickness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi,” you said, clearing your throat. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i have news wonie..  i like sunghoon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Wanna study together after class? 

you: of course!!!!!! 

hoonie: 🤍

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

you: class just finished, heading to lib rn 

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

you: i’ll try..

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

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

“Are you hot?” you blurt out. 

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

“I’m asking,” you mumble. 

“Then, yeah, I’d hope so.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re distracting.”

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

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

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

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

Oh. 

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

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

“Are you going to get that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I want to.” 

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thankfully tonight, it’s the first one. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sunghoon nods. “For closure.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You love him. He’s gone. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod. “So much.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please can I be your boyfriend?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

hoonie: Finger slipped.. You like?

you: mm.. 

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

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

you: i love it………….

hoonie: My girl 🤍

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

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

hoonie: Thx 😁

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A good something?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t have to be.”

“I just want to be good for you.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hums in affirmation, nodding his head. 

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

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

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

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

You nod. “You can.” 

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

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

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

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

“And this? If you want..” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t want to hurt you.”

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

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

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

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

“Hoon,” you whisper. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you: i’m so sorry we lied to you..

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

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

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

permanent taglist: @asahicore

[spidybaby]

hi lovey ❤️ don't know if ur request are open but if they are pls do something with kyky maybe his whole family love you but his mum doesnt ❤️

Mama's Boy

Summary: Kylian convinced himself that his mother liked you, but when she openly rejects you in front of him, he has to choose which side to be.

Warnings: cursing, mommy issues, dysfunctional family.

At first, you thought it was something normal the way she behaved with you. Kylian even told you it was.

"She does like you. She just needs to get more comfortable around you."

You let it go. Thinking he was right, you were like that, too. It took you a little before being open and relaxed towards the rest of his family.

Being busy with your own things and having to work around Kylian's schedule and yours made you two not even cross paths.

Kylian asked you to help him with something related to his foundation, the same one his mother's the president of.

You were asked to pick some things and drop them off at the venue of the event. Melissa was there. She and Fayza were supervising that everything went the way they planned.

You texted Melissa that you were there, with everything Kylian asked you to bring. She went to the parking lot to help you with some things.

You walk with hands full, Fayza was talking with a man. Melissa was telling you about what activities were going to be performed at the event.

"Bonjour, Miss Lamari." You say, smiling at her.

"Hi." She says, not a single expression on her face. "Are you staying?"

"Kylian asked me to say." You say. You notice how she inhales, trying not to show her discomfort. "If that's okay with you, of course."

She nods, leaving you alone. You knew she didn't really want you there, but Kylian was the one asking you to stay and participate.

You help Melissa with some things outside of the venue, organizing some piles for the games with the kids.

Kylian arrives half hour later, when his mother sees him, she asked him to go get changed for the pictures and everything.

He has this way of making you think what his mother is doing is just not being herself around you because she doesn't know you that much, and she will eventually open to you.

The activity was fun, Kylian was playing with the kids. You love watching him interact with them. It was a glimpse of what you could archive with him.

You love how his parents. Mostly his mother, educate him to give to those in need. You love him and his acts of kindness.

"Stop daydreaming." Melissa says, laughing at your heart eyes. "Believe me, he wants the same thing as you."

"I hope he does." You smile. "Because I feel like I would die if he doesn't."

"You guys have been together for what now?"

"Two years in a month."

"Don't worry. He wouldn't play with you like that." she pats your back. "Now, can you help me with bringing the bags we put together?"

You nod, walking back to the warehouse. Fayza was putting the bags into a box to carry them outside.

"Miss Lamari, would you like some help with that?"

She didn't turn to you. She kept organizing the box. You move a little closer so you could help her. Passing her some things.

She lifts the box, you notice how I was kinda heavy due to the amount of things it has. "Let me help you."

What you didn't expect was her passing you the box. The heavy things make you almost lose control.

She left without saying a word. You walk slowly to the exit. Your back killing you from the weight you have in your hands.

Melissa noticed you were struggling with the box. Rushing to help you. "Didn't occur to make two trips?" She asks, taking one side of the box.

You nod out of breath. You two left the box in a little table you prepare. "I was thinking two trips. But Kylian's mother gave me the whole box." You sigh.

Melissa shakes her head, she was the only one who noticed that Fayza treated you in a non fairly way.

She never mentioned anything to you or to Kylian. It wasn't her place, but she didn't like the attitude towards you.

"Let's get this ready, I want a cold shower." She smiles, organizing with you.

You had a special thing about the way kids can easily be drawn to you. You loved the way kids felt so secure with you.

So seeing you interact with the kids as you hand them their bags was something that didn't surprised Kylian.

He was focused on the way you were talking to a little boy who was crying. Trying to calm him down.

"Kyks, the last thing you need to do is say the goodbye words, and we can leave." Fayza hands him the speech. When Kylian doesn't take the paper out of her hands, she turns to him. "Kylian, I'm talking to you."

"She's a natural, don't you think?" He asks her. She turns to where he is seeing. It was you with a kid on your hip while you give the others their bags. "She will be an amazing mother."

"Don't run when you can barely walk, Kylian. You are too young and too naive of what life is."

"Maybe I am, but I know that I would do everything for her."

Fayza turns back to him. Grabbing his wrist and leaving the paper in his hand. He then pays attention to his mother.

"Goodbye words, now." She says before leaving.

Kylian does what his mother asks him. Thanking everybody who helped that day and what the purpose of the activity was.

You and Melissa were eating a few treats that the kids got. Ranking them to keep yourselves occupied while waiting for Kylian and Fayza.

You feel two hands grabbing your waist. The smell of Dior Sauvage makes you smile. "What's that?"

"Hello to you too, Mister Mbappé." You joke with him. Turning your face to kiss his cheek. "Mel and I are eating this cupcakes, but this is chocolate chips, we rate it a 7."

You feed him a piece. Humming at the taste. "I'll rate it a solid 9." He says, looking at you. "What else you got here?"

"This is lemon, and this to me is a 10." You feed him again. Watching him roll his eyes at the taste of the cupcake. "And wait for the next one. It's even better."

Fayza looks from afar, picking her stuff and walking closer to the three of you. "Kylian, you shouldn't be eating those."

You stop your actions. Putting the piece of cupcake back in the little plate. "I'm sorry, it was my fault." You smile at her.

She has her shades on, but you have the feeling that she rolled her eyes. "Let's just go. Please."

You look at Melissa, she gave you a look. "Melissa and I are leaving together." You hug Kylian while Melissa went to get her things. "What you do here is so amazing, Ky." You kiss him. "I admire you so much."

He has this cocky smile, he loves being praised, especially by you. "Thank you for helping." He kisses your cheek. "I'll meet you at your place, deal?"

You nod, saying a quick goodbye to him. Melissa was waiting for you. You two chat about things that happened during the weekend.

You drop her home, wishing her a goodnight. When you were on your way home, you stopped at Kylians' favorite restaurant. Ordering his favorite dessert.

After a quick shower and some food, you hear the front door getting closed. You wait to see your boyfriend walking.

He does this funny dancing to something that was streaming on his phone. You laugh. This definitely was something tik tok girls would love to use for the "kylian core" type of thing.

"Are you pulling a show for me?" You ask, happy to see him having fun.

The season was a long one. A very tired one. Now that he announced that he was joining Madrid and that France national team won the Euros, he was able to relax.

He leaves the phone on the counter, grabbing your hands and making you stand. You dance at the rhythm of the song.

You love moments like this. Only you and him, enjoying something a simple like dancing in the middle of your kitchen.

"Okay, time out, time out." You say, hands signaling the time out. "I got something for you, open the fridge."

He smiles, guessing what that might be. When he does, he does a happy dance. Making you laugh.

"Mom is going to hate you for getting me this." He laughs.

You scuff, you know he doesn't say it with that intention, but to you is a weird feeling. "You are allowed to a sweet thing." You reply. Kissing his lips.

"Am I allowed to this sweet piece I have in front of me?" He asks, eyebrows popping up and down.

You blush. He always jokes with you like that. And even after all these years you blush like crazy.

"I think you need to rest for the Euros, baby."

"But I've been resting, and I miss you like crazy." He beggs, hugging you by the waist. "Please, amour." He kiss your hair.

"If you get tired and lose a game, I'll feel bad and guilty."

He pouts, leaving the pâtisserie in the table. He hugs you, but not the typical hug. This is more of a touch starve kind of hug.

"You are so needy." You laugh. He smiles at your laugh. "What's going on?" You ask curious. He was acting up.

"I saw you with the kids today, and God, you looked amazing." He confesses the way his smiles are shining and the way his eyes lighten up at the memory. "I can't wait for us to have our own." He kiss you.

You talked about this in the past, how you two wanted to wait a little bit, specially now with him moving to Madrid and having to find the right schedule to see who will visit who and when.

"The time will come, my love." You peck him. "Now let's go upstairs and pretend to watch a movie while you kiss me how I like it."

He makes a small happy dance again, grabbing his pâtisserie and hurrying back next to your side as you walk upstairs with him, hand in hand.

"I'm so nervous, I want them to win so bad." You say to Helena, Kounde's girlfriend.

She laughed at how cute you looked all worried. "Calm down! It's going to go well."

You nod at her, trying to relax to enjoy the game. You had this feeling, but you thought it was just the normal feelings before a big game.

The game began, you were happy and excited about Kylian as a captain. He was so passionate about this team.

Helena, you and the other wags that joined the game were all seated together. You loved them and they were so nice and kind to you.

Antoine got hurt. Thanks to a player from the other team, he ended up facing up the fence. Head and knee bleeding at the impact of it.

The whole stadium was crazy, fans from the other team yelling profanities at the French team, at Antoine, and at the referee because it was a yellow.

And the French fans were yelling too in support of Antoine and the team. It was all crazy. The medical team helping him.

We turned to Erika, Antoine's wife, she was trying to see if the situation requires her to be alarmed or if she could be calm.

When the medical team finishes with the bandage, Antoine turns to where we are, giving Erika a thumbs up.

We feel better now. He was fine, and we relaxed. It was fun how his bandage was kinda slipping and moving on top of his head.

The game was entertaining, it was 1 - 0

The first goal was scored during the first time of the match. So, the team has to prevent Austria from scoring.

"I feel anxious." You say.

"It's just the game, I feel like Austria is kinda playing dirty. I don't know."

Just a few seconds later you see how Kylian and other players go for the ball with the head. When he falls his nose hits the shoulder or the Austrian player.

The whole stadium got silent for a second, the big screen showing his bloody nose. Some of the players make the referee stop the game for him to get assistance.

You feel a headache grows. The pain he must be feeling right now. "That must hurt like hell" Erika says.

You can't even look, focusing on your phone and seeing the text from Ethan. He asked you if Kylian was okay since some sports channels cut to other things instead of him getting help from the medical team.

You snap a picture of the field where you can see kylian getting help. He looked really bad, the blood on his shirt, the tearful eyes.

After the help, he kept playing. You shake your head at him, he kept looking at the bleachers, at where you are.

You hate when he feels like superman and thinks he can overcome everything by playing. News flash, he can't.

While he was trying to get past this player, he slap him in the face, which probably didn't even hurt, what hurted was his most likely broken nose.

"He needs to go to the hospital." Helena tells you. "I think they are switching him with Olivier. If they do, you should go to the dressing room with him."

"Yes, maybe get him to go to the hospital." Erika says.

Olivier makes the cut. He's now on the field replacing your boyfriend. Kylian is taken to the medical room, they will tell if he needs urgent care or if he can wait for the match to end.

You were thankful that the pass you have allows you to be in different parts of the stadium. You needed to see him before a decision was taken about him going to the hospital right now or if he was staying till the end.

"Hey!" You say, walking into the medical room. "Hi, amour." You grab his shoulders.

He grabs your hand, not feeling like saying anything. He's breathing through his nose, the tears are still there.

"We have to take him for a check, we can't really determine if his nose is broken or just fractured."

You nod, "Can I shower?" He asks.

"Be careful, please. We will help you wash your face so you can shower freely."

They help him wash his face and around his nose, you can see his discomfort when they pass the cotton ball near his nose.

"Can you wait for me at the hotel?"

"No, kyks. I'm going with you."

"Deschamps is going with me, and you landed before the match. You must be tired." He hugs you.

You were tired, you had a horrible flight and he knows it. "It's okay, I want to be by your side."

He smiles, hugging you. "Thank you."

You help him with his things. Carrying his toiletry bag and his phone. You text Ethan, telling him that you will update him when you get details.

He was in pain, you can tell by the way he is gripping his cap. He's not talking with Deschamps, he's just nodding or shaking his head no.

You stayed in the waiting room at the hospital, checking the candy at the machine. Your stomach was crazy for something.

"Hey!" you heard, turning to fins him with some bandage covering his nose. He explains what is going on and what the doctors told him. "Let's go."

You text his brother, updating him on what Kylian told you. He thanked you for the updates, feeling a little less stressed.

"Merci, good night." You wave goodbye to the chauffeur and the security people.

You walk with him to the room. You weren't supposed to be there with him, since the French Federation didn't allowed the players to bring company to their rooms.

But they allowed it since Kylian requested to have you to check on him like the doctor asked.

You feel his phone vibrate in your hand, the ID called showing his mother's name. "Ky, is your mom." You knock on the bathroom door.

"Pick up, I don't want to talk. S'il te plaît, mon amour." He shouts from inside.

"Hello, Miss Lamari." You say, your voice was tired.

"Oh, it's you." She sighs. "Can I talk to my son?"

"He's tired and asked me to pick the phone for him. If you want to know how he's doing, the doctor said his nose would be fine for him to play but with a protective mask. The Federation will get him one for training and the official one for the match on match day."

You explained everything, so the call was cut short. You don't have the energy or passion to do anything.

"And I can ask him to call you tomorrow, I'm sorry he can't pick up, but he's not in the mood to deal with anything today."

"Thank you for the updates." You hear the voice of Ethan. "Tell Kylian I say hi."

You smile. "I will, E."

"Bonne nuit." He says happily.

"Miss Lamari, I'll make sure Kylian calls you tomorrow before training. I'm sorry he can't right now."

"Fine, bonne nuit." She says and hangs up.

You throw the phone on the bed. Sitting on the edge. You can't take more of today than you already did.

Kylian walks out of the bathroom. Holding a towel in this hands. You wait for him to initiate a conversation. Not wanting to intrude into his thoughts.

After about five minutes of staring at him while he searches something on his luggage. You decide to speak.

"Do you want me to give you a massage?" You ask, noticing his tense muscles. "I have a warm cream."

He nods, taking his shirt off carefully. You ask him to lay in a position where his nose wasn't compromised.

You played some low music to calm him down, something very nice like jazz. You worked on his back.

He hummed, relaxing at your touch. He knows how much you wanted for him to be relaxed and to feel better after the day he had.

He fell asleep, you washed your hands and changed into your pajamas to join him in bed. It was going to be some hard weeks for him.

But you were going to be there.

You felt tired, the moving wasn't exactly the best. With some of your belongings getting lost.

"I promise they will be here by the end of the weekend." The guy from the moving company says. "We have them located. We are just waiting for a truck to send it to our warehouse."

"Thank you, I'll appreciate you speeding things for us."

You say goodbye to him, grabbing your purse to go to the mall. You needed something for the week.

Kylian asked you to pick some things he ordered from the stores. You only had three outfits, so you decided to abuse your power of his card and to take yourself shopping.

You spend quite some time in the mall, just roaming around the stores. When you head back to your new home you find a car parked in the driveway.

"I'll get these inside, Miss." The chauffeur says, you nod, thanking him for the help.

You walk inside, noticing a luggage and a box. "Hello?"

You walk into the kitchen, finding Fayza and her assistant talking and eating something. "Oh, hi."

They both turn to you. Fayza lifts her hand, saying hi. They keep their conversation. You didn't understand much of French.

When you moved to France to work, you tried to learn the language, to speak better and more naturally.

However, your work was mostly in English and Kylian, and you talked in English, and when you were with him, he translated everything to you.

Plus, you are not the best at learning new things, and French was complicated. You know how to talk with someone in a very simple conversation, but you can't fully understand a business talk or whatever talk they are having.

You walk to the fridge, taking a juice. You feel weird with both of them just ignoring your presence.

"Excuse me, Fayza is asking if her room is ready."

"I didn't knew you were coming today, so I'll go make it right now."

You walk quick upstairs, picking the sheets and everything you need to get the room ready. You make sure the bed and everything in the room is perfect.

You don't need a reason for her to tell you that something bothers her. You already have enough of those.

"Miss Lamari, the room is ready." You call from the stairs. You grab some sheets and a towel for her assistant. When you see her and Fayza walking. "Hey, this is for the guest room." You say, handing her the things.

"Did you iron the sheets like I asked Kylian? The weather is cold and I don't like cold sheets." She says.

You know she's doing this to bother you. Who irons their sheets?

"No, but I can do it. Are you okay with waiting a few more minutes?"

She rolls her eyes. "No, leave it like this."

"Okay." You smile. "Want some coffee? I just got this French press and this new coffee that tastes amaz-"

"Peux-tu te taire? tu es tellement ennuyeux" (Can you shut up? you're so annoying) She says. She walks past you, getting inside the room.

"That means that maybe later." The assistant says. Fake smiling at you.

You go back to your room, already stressed about the interaction.

You got the last box of Kylians clothes, ironing some of the clothes. You send Kylian a picture of his now very organized closet.

You hear a knock, making you walk to the door. "Fayza wants to talk to you. Come, please."

You roll your eyes at her, walking behind to the room of the mother of your boyfriend. "Yes, Miss Lamari?"

"Kylian mentioned earlier that you will work with him, I need to know what kind of work."

You blink a few times, not prepared for her to be so straightforward. "He asked me to work for the foundation."

"Okay, understood." She wrote something on a notebook. "That will not work for me, I think you can find something else."

You stand there just looking at her write things, you don't know what to say to her. Did she just fire you?

You were about to speak again, but she interrupted you. "I would love some coffee, and maybe some milk but on the side. Thank you."

You nod, walking outside and to the kitchen. You brew some coffee and grab a wood board for her sides.

You think on what to say to re open the conversation about the job. You want to have her understanding that you will be doing that job.

"Got the coffee, everything else on the side like you asked me, I even got you some of the cookies I know you like."

"Mhm." She mumbles. Not even looking at you.

"I want to talk to you about the job topic." You say, nervous about it. "I already compromised with this job and I think it's better if you talk with Kylian about the changes you want."

"I mean, if you want it to be him to repeat what I just told you, fine by me."

You take a deep breath. You don't feel like having this conversation with her. "Miss Lamari, I quit my job and left my home to come live with Kylian in Madrid. I don't think this is up for discussion. The job is the only reason why I agree to move."

"If you ask, maybe they'll hire you again. And I'm sure you can find another apartment. My assistant can help with that."

"I'll let Kylian and you discuss this when he's here in Madrid." You say, trying not to snap. "If you need anything you can call me, I'll be in my room."

You hurry, grabbing your phone to FaceTime Kylian.

"Bonjour." He says, smiling at you. "I got you the jersey you wanted." He turns his camera to show you the jersey thrown in the hotel chair.

"Thank you, that's cool." You smile. You don't want to say anything now that you see how relaxed he is. "Hey, I called to check on you. Miss you, my love."

"I do too, but only two more, hopefully." He smiles. "Hey, you told your parents about the moving?"

You make a face. "It was meh"

"Problems in paradise." He tries to joke. You half smile. "Was is that bad?"

"My mom told me that I was making a mistake by following you, that they payed a lot for my education for me to just throw it away."

"I'm sorry." He says. You can see he understands where your parents are coming from. "I wouldn't want our daughter to follow some weirdo around." He jokes.

You laugh, loving how he takes every opportunity to not only make you feel better but you mention how he sees a future with you.

"Yeah, but I will feel weird to think out daughter in law will have her parents call our son a loser or weirdo."

"When he wins a world cup like daddy, they would love him."

You forget why you even call him in the first place. You love how talking with him is so easy.

"I'll take a shower, and then I'll go to bed. I love you. I can't wait to see the game tomorrow."

"Don't eat shampoo." He jokes again, making you laugh. "Bonne nuit, amour."

"Bonne nuit, my champion." You blow him a kiss.

"Ethan, stop that." You laugh, watching him throw his nerf shots at you and Kylian. "Attack your brother, not me."

You three were back in Paris. You were lucky to get one small break in the same days Ethan got one.

"Let's drive to moms house. She will be mad if we are late for lunch." Kylian says.

You let him get up from the couch. You didn't want to go, first because she invited Kylian only and second because you already sense the tension.

"Go pick the car you want to take." You say to Ethan.

He nods excited and runs to the garage, ready to pick the lost luxurious car his brother has.

"Out your shoes on, we have to leave." Kylian says, jokingly smacking your thigh with his hand. "We don't want to be late."

You don't want to say no, but you can't just pretend you got sick in the whole minute he went to get his shoes.

"Are you sure she invited the two of us? Maybe she just wants a family only kind of lunch."

"Amour, you are family." He laughs, kissing your lips. "Plus, I think she's finally starting to open to you. She asked about you yesterday."

You wait for him to turn to roll your eyes. She did ask, but to know if you were in the house not to see you around when she arrived.

"Okay, let me get my shoes."

You grabbed your shoes, make sure you looked presentable, add some perfume and brushed your hair real quick.

"Let's go, my passenger princess." You joke with your boyfriend. Smacking his ass on your way out.

You three drive while listening to Ethans Playlist. Kylian and him were talking about a game Ethan has.

When you arrive at their mothers home, you parked. "Go inside, say hi to your mommy." You joke with him, grabbing his cheeks and squishing them.

"Rude." He pouts. Leaving and walking inside.

You exit the car slowly. You feel two hands on your shoulders. Knowing exactly who it is. "Ethan, you can't scare me."

He laughs, hugging you. "Missed you, can't wait to spend some time with you two in Madrid."

"I can't wait either, missed my little baby brother." You kiss his hand that you were holding.

The connection between Ethan and you was something nobody could break. He trusted you with his heart, and you trusted him with yours.

You two laugh at something he says to you as you walk in. You see that Melissa and the kids were there, Fayza and her sister and Kylian.

"Bonjour." You say to them. Noticing the dirty look Fayza gave you.

The rest say hello back to you. You talk with Kylians aunt, telling her about the foundation work you are doing in Spain.

The table was an 8 set. And you notice how the husband of the aunt is there. You feel weird about having to ask for an extra chair.

"Here, take my seat. I'll just grab another." He says.

"Oh, it's okay, I can't get the extra one. Please."

"Fine, but if you want it at any point, tell me." He smiles.

You grab a small stool, sitting next to Kylian, who was talking with Lana. "Bonjour, Lana." You smile. She returns the smile to you.

You notice how Fayza is serving the plates, mad expression on her face. You feel so bad about thinking coming was a good idea.

"Everything alright, mom?" Ethan asks. Noticing her face.

"Oui, just fixing something. Got extra people I wasn't expecting."

Ethan looks around. Not understanding the comment. "But, we all are here."

She just shakes her head. "I just think it's rude to come without an invitation." She whispers to him. But not quiet enough for Kylian and you to hear.

Kylian was about to say something, but his aunt was quicker. "Wait but I thought this was a family thing, and we all are here."

"Tout le monde ici n'est pas de la famille, je le dis simplement." She says. (Not everybody here is family, just saying.) Looking at you for a second.

You understood every word she said.

Kylian got mad at the comment. You were family. You were the girl he picture himself growing a family with.

You are the girl who left her whole life just to move to a foreign country for him to follow his dreams.

"Nous sommes tous une famille ici." (We all are family here) He says, mad at the comment. You grab his hand that was on his thigh. Trying to calm him down.

"And we even invite Tchaga and my friend Bruno." Ethan says.

"They are family, she is not."

Thinking about her not seeing you as family was one thing. But her telling it to your face was another. It hurted.

"Maman, c'est-" kylian began.

"Kylian, it's okay." You interrupted. "I'm leaving. Please don't start anything. This is your mother, and she's right. I'm not invited."

You try to get up, but his hand on your arm pulls you down to your seat again.

"Maman, she's not leaving." He states. "She's family to me, to Ethan and to dad."

Fayza drops the fork she's holding. Laughing at how brave and funny her son looks. "Vous continuez à rêver de choses que vous ne pouvez pas obtenir avec elle." (You keep daydreaming about things you can't get with her.) She says, knowing you don't understand much French.

"Miss Lamari, I'm leaving. I'm sorry." You get up, quicker this time for him to catch you. "I'm sorry." You say to everyone.

"Acting like the victim." She laughs. "Maybe that's why your mother doesn't like you." She smiles, knowing she just hit a soft spot.

You got quiet, looking over at Kylian, who was in shook at her words. "I'm sorry if I intruded your lunch. I'm leaving now."

You were about to walk out of the room when you hear Kylian calling your name. Making you turn your head. He was standing.

He walks over to you, grabbing your hand. "You crossed a line that I don't think you can return to. I understand you feel like every girl that got close to me was there for the money and shit, but she's not."

"Kyl-"

"No." He says louder, he's angry. "She's the woman I'm going to marry someday. She's the person I live with and who left her entire life here just to support me in my career. She's going to be the mother of my children, you like it or not." He squish your hand a little harder.

He turns to look at you, feeling hurt at the tears in your eyes.

"And if you don't apologize, then you can get used to the idea of not seeing me. Because if you don't like her around, you don't like me either."

He turns, pulling you to the entrance of the house. He slams the door behind him. Grabbing the keys and opening the car door for you.

"Can you drive?"

You nod, whipping the tears and smiling at him. "Je t'aime." You grab his face, kissing him.

He hugs you tight, resting his forehead on yours. "Let's go home, yeah?"

You nod. Pecking him. "Let's go home."

The drive was quiet, you didn't feel like talking, and he didn't know what to say.

He felt hurt by the words. He thought it was just his mother being uptight with you, but it was more.

"I'm sorry about her." He grabs your hand.

"It hurts, but I know I have you." You hug him, enjoying being in his arms. "That's all I need."

"No matter what she thinks or what anyone thinks, you have me, always will."

[kingtomura]

Cat and mouse

synopsis: Your ex boyfriend has some nerve texting you at three in the morning — an entire week after the disaster breakup you had. You should really go over there and give him a piece of your mind. Well, you know what they say about famous last words.  wc: 6.1k | crossposted to ao3 content: tomura shigaraki x female reader, no quirks au, toxic tomura, reader is kinda toxic too tbh, unhealthy relationships, breaking up and making up, vaginal fingering, overstim, breeding kink, piv, dubcon creampie, degredation, threats of baby trapping, hurt/comfort, sweet at the end idc

You’ve told your friends time and time again to stay out of your business. They never listen. 

“Oh my god, Kirishima? Is he even twenty yet?” You drag as you watch your friend flip through several pictures of the redheaded boy like he was a member of the bachelor. 

She smiles, scrolling her phone for more options, “no, but he will be in a couple of months!”

“No!” Your words are sharp. You love Mina but god, you don’t want her to play matchmaker with you. It’s not like you’re a charity case or something. 

She gasps and you swear you could see the lightbulb go off above her head. “What about Denki? He’s fun!” 

You groan, falling back onto the bed and covering your eyes with your arm. “Mina.” 

“Hey, just give her a break okay? It’s only been about a week.” Your saving grace Yaoyorozu speaks up and it’s nice to finally have someone on your side. 

“Thank you.”

“Seriously? So we’re just going to sit around and watch you mope about all day?” Mina questions, irritation clear in her voice and it grates your ears.  

“Preferably, yes! Just let me be.” You roll over, face officially shoved into your pillow. It’s been a rough couple of days and you haven’t gotten a single call or text from Tomura. Not that you should be expecting one. You broke up with him after all. 

It’s just.. this time feels different. Usually there’s more arguing and he’s fighting for you to stay around, but this time there was nothing. No quips, no insults, just “fine, get out then.”

That hurt the most. 

You had no idea what he was up to. 

Maybe he was as depressed as you were. 

Maybe he’s found someone else. 

The thought makes you stop in your tracks. The idea of Tomura, your tomura with someone else is enough to make you nauseous. 

You jump to your feet and rush to the bathroom, locking yourself in and falling to your knees. 

God, what if that was why it was so easy?

You pull out your phone, the device lighting up and unlocking with your facial id. 

Tomura doesn’t use social media much but you could still check to see if he’d blocked you. 

To your surprise, he hadn’t. 

He hasn't posted anything either and there’s no new person in his followers. 

You feel yourself exhale a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. No change is a good thing. 

There’s knocking on the door and you thank the stars you locked it. Your friends would judge you so hard if they saw you lurking through your ex’s social media. 

“Hey, are you okay in there?” It’s your saving grace Yaoyorozu again and you almost feel bad for shutting her out. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry if it feels like I pressured you! I’ll give you some space.” Mina's regretful voice calls and it makes your heart clench. You know she means well but she just doesn’t understand. None of them do. 

Whether you want to admit it or not, you love Tomura. 

Yes, you argue and yes, you fight, but he just gets you. He’s so cynical, but so caring — in his own special way. Too bad he was such an asshole. The argument wasn’t even supposed to go that far. 

There are tears beginning to blur your vision and you wipe them away, willing the feelings down and standing to your feet. 

If he wanted you to stay away, then fine. You could do that. 

You splash cool water onto your face and take a breath, steeling yourself and getting ready to face your friend once more. It was Saturday and they were convinced you needed a fun girl’s night.

It takes a lot to refrain from cringing at the phrase, but you believe they held some truth with the idea. You definitely didn’t want to be alone right now.

You unlock the bathroom door, meeting Mina and Yaoyorozu’s worried expressions with a smile. 

“We should probably get ready now, huh?”

Mina’s eyes light up, smile blinding and excitement contagious.

“Yes! Jirou and the others are here now.” She starts to clap, excitement buzzing around her, “Girl’s night is going to be amazing!” 

—-

Girl’s night was a bust.

The moment everyone arrived the apartment quickly filled with chaos. Noisy and busy, it was all giving you a headache. Until someone decided it would be a good idea to pregame before going out.

In preparation for the night your friend’s insisted that you get dolled up, hair makeup and skimpy clothes you wouldn’t look twice at on any normal day. 

You had to admit it made you a little more excited to get out and at least feel like your world isn't crashing around you. It was supposed to be a fun little night out. Somehow one drink turned into two, which turned into three which turned into Mina swearing she could beat everyone in a dance battle. 

The group only got more riled up as everyone indulged in this silly challenge. 

One challenge leads to another, which leads to more drinking, which then ends in everyone being too drunk to function and knocking out — all laid out in odd places around your living room floor and couch. 

The groggy feeling came first, your arms radiating in dull pain as you vaguely recalled trying to beat Mina in a contest of who could do the most push ups. It sure as hell wasn't you, but the drunk version of you thought it was possible to move mountains. 

You blink a few times, trying to will your eyes to rapidly adjust to the darkness of the room and find out what this odd buzzing noise beside you had been. Turning over, you find your phone, squinting as the too bright screen lights up your face and you see that it is three a.m.

You had fallen asleep with everyone else.

The phone buzzes again, lighting up and you have to squint further to read the contact name.

Tomura. 

Your eyes widen as you scan over the three texts he’s sent you. 

Wasting no time, you rush to your feet and into the bathroom so you can look at your phone without the chance of prying eyes overlooking your shoulder. Even though they were probably going to be out until late morning.

Tomura’s messages were short, no paragraphs, no essays but three different messages sent in succession. 

When are you coming to get your shit?

I’m tired of waiting.

And I’m deleting our farm btw. 

The first two messages don’t get much of a reaction from you, especially since it’s three a.m and he knows you’re usually asleep around this time. 

But the third message…

Your Stardew Valley farm that you’ve had and worked on together for almost two years being put on the line and threatened? What the fuck was his problem?

This farm was a constant in your relationship. Throughout the ups and downs and back and forths. You were sure that hell would freeze over before you both would give up that progress. But here he is, threatening you while you would have been asleep. What an asshole.

Your feet are moving before your brain can stop them and you make your way to the front door. Since your friends were all passed out it would be easy to sneak over to Shigaraki’s place, give him a piece of your mind and then sneak back. In and out, quick and easy. 

Your decision is made and you grab your coat, deciding to just go over there as you are. You hadn’t changed out of your outfit that was supposed to be for the night out, but it didn’t matter. You only needed to get over there and get there fast.

Once you arrive at Tomura’s doorstep you waste no time knocking. It’s around three in the morning so he should still very much be awake. 

There's a chill in the air as you wait for his answer and you wrap your jacket closer to your body. A rumble of thunder caught your attention and it's then you notice the rain clouds rolling in. You knew it would only be a matter of time before the bottom of the sky falls out and rain drenches everything. You were on borrowed time if you wanted to make it back before then.

After what feels like forever the door finally opens, revealing a very cozy pajama-clad Tomura, who seemed a little too pleased for his own good — if that sly smile he was doing a bad job at hiding was anything to go by. 

You don't give him a chance to greet you or say anything for that matter, stopping his words in their tracks as you cut him off. “What do you want?”

He doesn’t bother hiding his smirk now, the expression making your fists clench and your anger boil. “What do I want? You’re at my door, in front of my apartment.” He scoffs, clearly getting the exact reaction he had wanted from you, “I should be asking what do you want?” 

Caught like a deer in headlights. Whatever, you don't let that stop you as you pull out your phone to show him his text. “You sent this, I know you’re bluffing. What do you want?”

Tomura shrugs, leaning against his door frame and giving you a pleased look. Expression relaxed and content. Not a care in the world. “To talk.”

“Well, I'm here now, so let’s talk.” You spit, crossing your arms and waiting for whatever else he would throw at you. 

“Sure, but you should come in first.” He starts, looking up towards the darkened sky, confirming his assessment. “It’s gonna rain soon, you know.”

Of course you knew that. 

You just didn’t want to give him more time than you had. But you agree and go in, ignoring the fighting feeling in the back of your mind screaming at you to turn away and hightail it out of there. 

Tomura’s home is the exact way it was the day you left, give or take a few more containers of takeout littered around the place. You have half a mind to scold him about it, but quickly remember that it isn’t your place to do that anymore. 

So instead you stay quiet, following him into the apartment and into the living room. Opting to stand as he sat, and resisted the urge to get comfortable. 

“So, what do you want to talk about?” You try, done watching him pick up a controller and boot up a video game. Seriously? 

Your patience was wearing thin now as you watched him ignore you to play some stupid game. You try calling to him again, knowing this was probably a waste of your time and groans.

“I was in the middle of something before you got here. Let me finish and we’ll talk.” It's flippant the way he waves you off and continues the game. The lack of care only hurting your feelings further and making you realize this may have all been a big mistake on your part.

You shouldn’t be at your ex boyfriend’s house being ignored. You should be at your house getting drunk and hanging out with your best friends. There was no reason to stay somewhere you’re obviously not valued.

It’s a simple choice when you put it into perspective. 

But things are always easier said than done. 

You sigh, the air puffing out your cheeks, a bad habit you had when angry, and walk right in front of Tomura’s TV. There was more satisfaction in making him lose the game and then announcing your departure than just leaving quietly. 

He cranes his neck to see around you, but it doesn’t work, finally giving up as his character inevitably dies. “What!?”

“I’m leaving!” You announced, turning on your heel and heading towards the front door.

“You had to make me lose first? I said I was almost done!” He spat back, rising from the couch to follow you.

You shrug, “I don’t care. Why invite me in if you’re just going to ignore me?”

“Didn’t think you had the patience of a child.'' Tomura stands in front of you, cutting through your path and stopping you in your tracks.

It's almost comical the way he insults you. “Okay pot, meet kettle.” You try to brush past him, but he side steps with you. 

“What are you dressed like that for anyway? Did you go out tonight or something?”

“No!” You deny, a little louder than intended and then pause. “But it’s none of your business what I do anyway.”

Tomura hums at this, taking the words in and running them through his mind as he gives you a once over, eyes scanning from the too-tight shirt you wore — showing a generous amount of cleavage, down to your mini skirt that left little to the imagination. 

“Could've fooled me.”

“What do you mean by that?” You hate when he gives you cryptic answers, like it’s impossible to pry into his mind to see what he was thinking at the moment. 

“You knew you were coming to see me so I dont get why you're wearing that skimpy shit. Unless you wanted me to check you out.”

“Not everything is about you, Tomura. Maybe I just wanted to dress up and look nice.”

“Bullshit—”

“God, Tomura you always fucking do this!” You yell, walking right up into his face. The excitement in his scarlet eyes sends a chill up your spin, but you can’t back down. 

He gets closer, matching your tone and you can still see the grin he’s trying to hide. It makes you see red. “Do what? Tell you the truth? You know I’m not wrong.”

“Yeah, you think you know everything, but you don’t. I’m dressed up because I want to be, not because of you.” You’re insisting at this point, frustration threatening to tip over and spill out into the form of another pointless argument. Why did you think you could actually come over and have a decent conversation with him?

Tomura is a master at getting under your skin and hitting where it hurts. In all of your arguments he’s never really pulled out the big shots but you wouldn’t put it past him to do so now. 

“Oh, so you come over to my place dressed like a slut and you expect me to believe you don’t have some hidden motive?”

And there it is.

Your last straw. He could be so egotistical and mean — you’ve had it. 

You regret it the moment you do it, but your body moves before your brain can process your actions. You push Tomura. Hard. 

He doesn’t fall back far but you know it’s enough to piss him off. And he’s never been one to hold anything back, so he shoves you back and your back hits the wall. 

Tomura has you pinned before you know it and there’s a thrill that runs through your body in a way you know you shouldn’t be feeling. Your knees feel weak for reasons that are not related to fear and your panties were gradually becoming more wet. 

His voice is low and his eyes are narrowed as he pins you against the wall, pressing your cheeks together with his other hand. “You’re really starting to piss me off.”

You have to bite back a smile, knowing this has taken a turn and you aren’t strong enough to stop where it’s going. Not that you would want to. 

“Oh yeah? If I piss you off so badly then why are you hard?”

He doesn’t look down. He can feel his own arousal just as well as you can while it’s pressed against your abdomen. 

Tomura pushes off of you — maintaining some distance as he turns away. 

“You’re fucking annoying.”

“Sure am.” You supply, chipper and certain as you trail behind him. 

He’s walking further into the apartment, and you follow. Legs moving on their own accord as you go further into the lion's den, exchanging quips and insults. You jab your finger into his shoulder, bothered by the way he continues to ignore you, it's a pathetic attempt at catching his attention and it works. Kind of. 

The only response being him slapping your hand away with a glare and muttering a soft fuck off as he walked on. 

You both went back and forth. Like the sun and moon, you just can’t stay away from each other.  

It was how these things usually went between you and Tomura. He would start up, make a petty argument and you would never back down. Tomura is someone who was used to getting his way and others simply did what he said with no objections. 

But that was not how you were.

And he loved it.

You knew by the way he would get that devious glimmer in his eye when you would challenge a point, starting up a debate. Sometimes they were heated enough to make you both break up. It never lasted more than a few days. A week being the longest.

Push and pull. 

Tomura made his way past you again, ignoring your calls about how you hate being ignored. At this point you’re sure he’s doing it on purpose to rile you up more but you can’t help but take the bait. You grab his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and face you as you point a finger in his face. 

“Stop walking away from me!” 

He grabs your wrist and pulls you closer, making you stumble on your feet and almost lose balance. You were so close you could feel the heat from his body and smell the fresh linen scent of his shirt. “Don’t tell me what to do.” 

You snatch your wrist away from him, tension between you two growing hotter by the second as the space between you got thinner. 

“What are you going to do about it?” 

The narrowing of his eyes only made your grin grow wider as you watched the gears turn in his head as he thought about just how many things he would do about it. All of it enticed you, so you beat him to the punch. 

You reach forward again, fully intending to shove his shoulder again for another reaction, another glare, maybe even more words, but he stops you. It was fast, the way you both tumbled through the hallway as Tomura crashed his lips to yours. The relief of finally feeling his lips again meshed with the excitement of how rough he was with you. 

You lose yourself in the kiss, welcoming him in with open arms as you vaguely register the dark walls of his room and posters plastered along the walls in your scuffle.

It was exciting, probably the best part of breaking up and making up. At this point you think the whole point of falling apart is coming back together again. An endless cycle where the reward is worth the punishment. 

Cat and mouse. 

You end up on top of him, straddling his hips while your smug smile beams down at him. Tomura gives you an unamused look in return, yet the way his hands rested on your thighs gave away the ill hidden interest. It was all the encouragement you needed as you leaned down, hovering above him with both hands on his chest. 

“Not so tough now, are you?”

It’s bait. You know it’s bait, he knows it’s bait, but he takes it anyway — the way you knew he would. 

Tomura wastes no time flipping the both of you over, quickly reversing your positions as he settled himself between your legs. It’s dangerous the way his actions riled you up further, and you have to bite your lip to keep the smile from betraying your false anger. You couldn’t let him know how excited you were to be back in his bed. 

He presses your cheeks together and rocks your head left to right, tone mocking and eyes wild with fever, “Oh, look who’s become a firecracker all of the sudden. Where did that flame come from, huh?”

You want to respond, but Tomura beats you to it, releasing your cheeks and pointing a nimble finger against your forehead, “Don’t be dumb.”

His eyes trail from yours and then down to your lips, then finally down to your exposed cleavage. The movement was swift as he cupped one of your breasts in his hand and dipped down, claiming your lips again. It was softer than the first time but not by much, especially not when he matched his pace by grinding his clothed erection into you, making you moan at the contact. 

Your skirt was so short and it made you feel even more exposed than you already were. Tomura had easy access to you and the thin fabric of your panties made everything feel so much closer. 

You moan at the contact, swiping your tongue against Tomura’s bottom lip and wasting no time deepening the kiss as you pull him closer. You needed more and you needed it as soon as possible. 

Tomura pulled the low cut front of your shirt down, easily exposing your breasts from the confines of the shirt and massaged them, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles against your nipples and making you cry out from the sensitivity. 

He pulls away from you, eyes gazing into yours and you swore in that moment he put you in a trance. Tomura’s ruby red gaze always left you mesmerized and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips, brows furrowed and eyes wanting, “Please.”

“Please what?” And he’s not taunting you, he’s not mocking you. His eyes are soft as he brings a hand to your cheek. “Tell me what you want.”

“You.” Fuck, you’ve missed him. “I just want you.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his face as he strokes your cheek, soft look in his eyes making your heart flutter, and then it’s gone. Replaced by a hardened gaze as he moves to remove your shirt and bra, fully exposing you to his hungry eyes, and then moves to remove your short skirt. 

His hands hover there for a moment, debating whether or not he should keep it on and fuck you in it, but then decides against the idea and pulls it off, taking your soaked panties down with it as well. 

The air in the room feels cool against your skin as you shiver in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” Tomura whispers, now eye level with your cunt. You gasp as he runs two fingers between your wet folds and holds the digits up to show you. Syrupy clear slick clung to them, slowly trailing down as Tomura rose back up, eye level with you once more. 

“You’re so wet…” He murmured, bringing the digits to your mouth and you opened, taking them into your mouth and tasting yourself. You kept eye contact as you watched his eyes widen in delight — Tomura loved it when you put on a show for him.

There’s another moment of Tomura pressing against your tongue with his fingers and then he pulls them out, opting for a kiss in exchange, his tongue dipping into your mouth and groaning  as he could taste what’s left of your slick on you as well.

The pleasant feeling and linguid action of your movements made your shoulders relax as you practically melted into his soft bed, the feeling of his body above yours bringing you mountains of comfort. It was a distraction, of course. 

You felt the same two of Tomura’s fingers prod at your slick entrance before pressing in fully and all the way down to the knuckle. The stretch was intense but the pressure was euphoric, making you squeeze your eyes shut and grip him closer. 

He didn’t make you wait long as he pumped his fingers, quickly finding that sensitive spot so deep inside of you that only he could pinpoint and brushing against it over and over. 

The feeling was so good it made you pull away from the kiss to breathe, thighs twitching and toes curling in pleasure. You wouldn’t last long like this.

“Tomura, fuck..!” You moaned, drowning in ecstasy as he continued his abuse of your spot, never letting up or slowing down, aiming to make you cum as quickly as he could. It was obvious he wanted you to come undone as soon as possible by the way he watched your every expression. 

The way your brows furrowed to the way you bit your lip. Tomura eagerly drank every expression and gave it back to you in the form of pleasure. 

“What?” He started, unphased by your dilemma, “Gonna cum?”

It took a lot of focus and effort, but you nod — done with fighting for the night and accepting the fact that you will come apart quickly. So you give in to the pleasure. 

Tomura smiles, a devious grin splitting his features as he curls his fingers, hitting the spot one more time for good measure and you lose composure, your climax crashing into you like a tidal wave. There was nothing you could do besides ride the feeling while holding on to Tomura tight — like you would get swept away if you didn’t. 

He fucks you through it with his fingers, eyes never leaving your face as you come down from your high. 

“Pent up, huh?” He questions, and this time there is that little hint of teasing. It brings you back to reality. 

Yes, you have been pent up. You haven’t been able to get off to anything since you’ve broken up and it’s been hell. 

You have no time for the games, you just want him and you want him now. 

So, you take Tomura’s face in your hands, making him look you in the eyes. The flecks of black in his carmine eyes always makes you remember why you come back. Every single time. 

“Fuck me, please, Tomura.” It's soft and filled with desire that you cannot be bothered to hide, and Tomura has never been one to deny you.

He quickly discards his own clothes, making sure to not stay away from you for long. His cock is hard and leaking precum from the head as he strokes it in preparation. You feel giddy at the thought and watch as he slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating it with your slick, and rubbing against your clit. The action makes your hips twitch up towards him. 

He loves to tease and make you wait, but today he doesn’t make you wait long. Tomura leans down after lining himself up with your entrance and places his free hand behind your head, right above the nape of your neck. His hands were warm and the feeling of those hands cradling your head felt so comforting in the space of his familiar dark bedroom. 

You bring a hand to his hair, tangling your fingers in his ashen locks as he pushes forward. The stretch makes you whimper and Tomura captures your lips in a kiss again, swallowing the noises and releasing a groan of his own as your walls tighten around his cock. 

There's something about the way Tomura drags his hips, the way he starts off at a slow pace, winding you up as he steadily increases his speed and force. It happens so gradually that you don't realize you’re screaming his name until he tells you to shut up — threatening to cover your mouth because he didn't want his neighbors to hear how much of a slut you were.

It drove you mad the way he said it all with a smile and fucked you harder. Almost daring you to be louder so he can punish you with a hand over your mouth.

Tomura knew how rough you liked it and he always delivered, giving you back arching pleasure as he pounded into you. It leaves you gasping and struggling to keep your voice down. Your hands find the surface of his back, trying to hold on as much as you could with building pleasure on the horizon. 

“Tomu— Tomura..! Please,” you cry and he doesn’t miss a beat, driving his cock so deep against your sweet spot it makes you see stars. “Fuck..!” 

“Yeah, that’s it.” Tomura cooed, eyes filled with mischief as he brought you closer to the edge. “Cry for me.”

And you do, your body feeling euphoric as the feeling buzzed up your spine and filled your brain with the fuzz of ecstasy. 

“What are you gonna do, huh?” He starts, his hips grinding against you, the closeness of his pelvis rubs against your clit, making you cry out again, “What are you gonna do when I breed this pretty cunt and make sure you’re stuck with me forever?”

He’s bluffing, you know Tomura doesn’t want kids. He’s just trying to gauge your reaction. Your dedication. 

“Tomura…” You only moan, breath catching as he hits that spot inside you that he knows so well. 

Tomura is smiling, wild and devious, as you look up at him with glossy eyes, so close to crying from the feelings, “I’m gonna do it. I’ll make you mine forever and you can’t do anything about it.” 

“Ah!” You should stop him, tell him to calm down but he has your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your back arching off of the bed. Everything is blurring together and you can only slur words as the drool from your earlier kiss trails down your cheek. 

You are completely at his mercy like this and you know your friends would be beyond disappointed.  

It just feels so good the way his cock drags in and out of your body pulling moans and whines from your throat. He was relentless in the way he pounded into you — beyond the point of being soft and slow because he knows that’s exactly you like it. 

“Say you want it.” The command comes with the slowing of his hips and you whine, high and needy as Tomura slows to a near stop.

“Tomura, I—“

“Say you want it or I swear to god I’ll stop right now.” It’s a threat and you don’t want to find out if he’ll go through with it. Tomura never goes back on his word. 

“No, please, don’t— I want it!” you pant, frustrated and aching for more movement.

“I want you to,” you stammer, desperate to have your release. “I don’t care if you cum in me. I need you so bad.”

“That’s my girl,” He coos, dipping his head down onto your shoulder, “Fuck.. love you s’much”

You stop — you’ve never heard him say that. Ever. You doubted he would ever say it since it’s been so long. 

He doesn’t give you a chance to ruminate on it because he's picking up the pace again and giving you the friction you were so deeply in need of. The feelings are swimming in your head as your cries reach new heights. Tomura is too far gone to stop you or care and you’re thankful. You couldn’t stop yourself if you tried. 

The build of your orgasm crashes down and sends you with it, making your thighs quiver in pleasure and your eyes squeeze shut. Tomura’s mouth meets yours before you could cry out, the warmth of his tongue guiding you as he fucked you through it. 

He didn’t last long after, the way your walls tightened around him with the force of your orgasm has Tomura’s pace erratic as he chased his own high. 

The bed shook as Tomura finally finished, hips stuttered as he released inside of you, hot seed coating your insides and making heat rise to your cheeks. He really did it.

You watch as he slows to a stop above you, his eyes closed as he enjoys the feeling of release. Tomura’s breathing was heavy and you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing him down into another kiss, traveling from his lips to his cheeks and then back again. 

It was intimate and you were worried it may have been too much, given the reason you were both in this situation was because of a stupid breakup. 

Tomura’s pulls out of you, making you wince and taking the feeling of being so full away from you. He doesn’t go far, opting to stay on top of you and rest his head on your shoulder, wanting to keep you as close as possible. 

“You really piss me off.” He mumbles into your shoulder, out of breath and tired. “God, why can’t you just stay with me.”

“Tomura…” Your hands run through his hair, the sweat is making it stick to his forehead as you wait for him to keep talking. 

“Stop leaving me.” His voice is firm, unwavering.

“You told me to go.” 

“I didn’t think you fucking would. I would never actually want you to.”

“I can’t read between the lines Tomura, I’m not in your head.” You make him look at you this time, pulling his hair a little to get him to raise his head. “Did you mean it?”

“I just said I didn’t—“

“No, the other thing you said.” He gives you a look of pure confusion and you lose a little bit of hope, “when you said you loved me?” 

You stare into his carmine eyes, hoping, praying it wasn’t just pillow talk from the heat of the moment. 

He looks at you for a long time, frustration still wearing on his features. If you didn’t know any better you would say he was pouting. “Of course I meant it. I’ve always felt like that.”

“But you’ve never said it!”

“I show it!”

“How?” This is getting frustrating and going in circles. 

He groans, sitting up and taking his warmth with him. “I’m not going to sit here and list everything I’ve ever done for you. I don’t think it works like that.”

You open your mouth to counter, irritation on your tongue because that’s not what you meant, but Tomura stops you again. 

“I don’t know how to explain it, okay?” He shakes his head and sighs, laying next to you on the bed and looking up at his ceiling. “It’s weird. I have these strong feelings, but it’s not hate, it's not anger. It's the opposite of that.”

You stare at him as he focuses ahead, keeping his eyes trained on the uninteresting ceiling above.

“Father said it’s a weakness and I should feel that way but,” There’s a pause as he looks away from the ceiling, meeting your eyes finally, “if it’s so weak of me, then why are the feelings so strong?” 

Your heart aches. It's clear that he’s torn, and with the strange way he was raised you know that he can’t help the way he is. 

“Tomura…” 

“And it won’t go away. I can’t fight them down or push them away like I can with everything else. It eats me up and I… guess I lash out because of it.” He shakes his head and for the first time Tomura looks defeated. You’ve never seen him this way — he’s always been filled with confidence and self assured. “I just don’t know what to do.”

You bring a hand to his cheek as you press your forehead against his. It kills you that this is what’s been on his mind and you aren’t sure what you could do to fix it. Maybe there was nothing you could do, physically, but you would do your best to be there for him emotionally.

“Sometimes,” you try to be careful with your words, knowing how much Tomura looks up to his foster father even though the man has been nothing but strange to him. “People say things that aren’t true because they don’t know how to live with it.”

Tomura’s guardian cannot live with love nor the idea of it. 

“That doesn't mean you have to live that way.” 

And it’s the truth. 

Tomura doesn’t say anything, just watches you with heavy lidded eyes, ruby red nearly glowing in the low light of the room. He was so much more than what people thought they knew of him and you didn’t care if it took time for others to see that.

He leans in, closing his eyes and you meet him halfway into a kiss. 

It's warm and it's soft and you know that even when your phone is buzzing from dozens of missed calls and texts from your friends, it will be fine. 

You and Tomura would take things one day at a time.

[fqlling4it]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) part 2 | max verstappen x best friend! reader

yourusername

liked by lilymhe, francisca.cgomez, and others

yourusername much needed rest and relaxation over the break (with some extra special family time)

view all 2,832 comments

user732 posting for the first time in months after dropping THAT song is diabolical

↳ user82 her saying she’ll wait for his love is actually kinda insane because i’d be groveling on my knees if she showed the slightest bit of interest in me

lilymhe oh my beautiful, beautiful girl

↳ yourusername love you lily <3

user81 i know that second single’s gonna hit like crack

↳ user4 praying everyday for her to release again

georgerussell63 pops finally made the gram?

↳ yourusername took lots and lots of convincing for me to be able to post this georgie

francolapinto muuyyyy linda 😘

↳ yourusername i’m a little too old for you sweetheart

christianhorner make sure to tell that boy of yours thank you for winning you the bear

↳ yourusername papa, this is not how instagram works…. everyone can see this

user63 christian outing his daughter about having a boyfriend was not on my 2024 bingo card 😭

↳ user33 diabolical move on his part, but now i’m nosy and wanna know who

francisca.cgomes i’ve missed you, come by soon ☹️💔

↳ yourusername will be over as soon as possible

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: night out with my girl! francisca.cgomes]

[caption 2: always third wheeling these two pierregasly francisca.cgomes]

view story replies

francisca.cgomes you could’ve brought him with you bubs

↳ it’s still new, didn’t want to force him into something he might not be comfortable with… he only met pops because of work

user72 y/n’s so me, always third wheeling my friend and her boyfriend </3

user44 two pretty girls omg

carlossainz55 could’ve invited me hermosa, would’ve been a nice double date

↳ next time then, just wasn’t sure if you were ready to officially officially meet my friends <3

alexandrasaintmleux no boyfriend appearance?

↳ keeping it low key… wasn’t sure if he was ready to meet everyone as my boyfriend yet

francisca.cgomes added to their story!

[caption 1: picked up alex and forced pierre to be our photographer]

[caption 2: when she gets a text back so she has to set her phone down and scream]

carlossainz55 glad i have that effect on her, tell her to answer me though </3

↳ still screaming, will text you back when she’s done

user44 literally me when i get a text from my man 🧍‍♀️

user81 three baddies in one picture 🧎‍♀️‍➡️

maxverstappen1 who was she texting???

↳ it’s none of your business max, stop meddling

incoming messages from max!

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and others

carlossainz55 what a great way to end a three week break, love spending time with mi sol. ¡vamos vegas!

view all 4,822 comments

user72 y/n in the likes, my yncarlos truthers RISE!

↳ user63 so delusional oh my god

yourusername viva las vegas!

↳ carlossainz55 viva las vegas!

charles_leclerc sad to be out last triple header as teammates brother, i’ll be keeping you around

↳ carlossainz55 gonna miss you hermano, we’ll race hard for ferrari

user65 can’t believe it’s carlos’ last few races in a ferrari 💔

↳ user55 and if i say perez is out so the redbull seat is open and carlos goes to redbull and franco stays at williams 😁

↳ user65 delusion at its finest

maxverstappen1 ready to go in vegas 🙌

↳ carlossainz55 see you there

user23 you know who else went golfing with lily during the break? y/n!

↳ user61 that doesn’t mean y/n was there when carlos was with lily and alex, you sound delusional

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: the only professional ever took me golfing lilymhe]

[caption 2: he got jealous, so my man took me golfing too (:]

view story replies

user732 man???? i thought maybe your dad was joking… oh my god

user61 hmmm… interesting…. is that perhaps carlos sainz? who wore that same outfit in the pictures he posted on his insta… suspicious 🤨

carlossainz55 i was not jealous hermosa.. just wanted you to remember how good i am at golf

↳ oh of course amor, you just wanted to show off your golfing skills… so what if i post a picture of us when i announce my new song? are you okay with that?

carlossainz55 sounds amazing hermosa, i’ll post you too.. wanna show off my girl

lilymhe oh you two are so cute

↳ you missed it!!!! when we went to go find my ball he told me he loves me… i melted on the spot lils, he’s so sweet 🥲🥰

christianhorner oh baby, i hope you’re having a wonderful break. tell carlos to stop by hospitality on media day, we’ve got some things to discuss

↳ thank you papa! i’ll make sure to remind him

user81 oh that’s so cute

user94 lily and y/n >>>>>

user01 the fit though

maxverstappen1 is that who i think it is?? you’re with carlos??

↳ please max, it’s none of your business… can’t you just be happy for me?

maxverstappen1 i am happy for you schatje, i hope he treats you well

↳ so well! i love him max… so so much

user344 imagine being max and fumbling the baddest bitch and almost losing your championship to someone with three race wins

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 and others

yourusername dinner dates with my man <3 (new song eternal sunshine out friday!)

view all 3,328 comments

user61 I KNEW IT I KNEW IT AND I GOT CALLED DELUSIONAL FOR SAYING IT

carlossainz55 bonitaaa

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍😍😍

carlossainz55 te amo mi sol

↳ yourusername te amo guapo

lilymhe and the cutest couple award goes to… carlos and y/n

↳ yourusername ahhhh i love you lily <3

alexandrasaintmleux oh you two are just the cutest

↳ yourusername thank you alex, love you <3

maxverstappen1 so happy for the two of you, congratulations!

↳ yourusername thank you max, it truly means a lot

user743 ok but they’re so cute together

user392 newest ferrari wag but only for three race weekends ☹️

↳ user16 you act like she’s dying, they’re just moving teams

christianhorner so happy for you baby! i love you princess ❤️

↳ yourusername thank you papa, i love you too. make sure to tell geri we’ll visit soon <3

carlossainz55 added to their story!

[caption 1: paddock days with my girl]

[caption 2: a win in vegas with the best company]

f1

liked by carlossainz55, yourusername and others

f1 carlos sainz to join oracle redbull racing for the 2025 season after sergio perez retires! franco colapinto will take sainz’s seat at williams for the 2025 season

view all 10,382 comments

carlossainz55 so so grateful for this opportunity!

user55 i literally predicted this ????

↳ yourusername please predict carlos winning wdc 2025, thanks girlie 🥰🙏

user23 so so happy for him!

user82 oh this is amazing news!

maxverstappen1 can’t wait to be teammates mate!

↳ carlossainz55 so excited to be teammates again hermano

charles_leclerc happy for you brother!

↳ carlossainz55 thank you charles, double date with the girls soon!

user44 oh wow

christianhorner excited for next year! wcc is ours! work hard boys!

yourusername added to their story!

[caption 1: eternal sunshine out now 🌞]

[caption 2: my eternal sunshine ☀️ carlossainz55]

[awearywritersworld]

"took you long enough"

gojo satoru x reader summary: when you ask your best friend to meet the guy you've been seeing, things don't go quite as planned. w/c: 3.2k tags/warnings: angst to smut with a fluffy ending. 18+. friends to lovers. jealous gojo. curse words. drinking. gojo shoves ur love interest. he's just kind of an ass to him in general. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: i don't often write smut, but i kinda got carried away.. carpe diem, i say masterlist

gojo is tired of hearing you ramble on about the new guy you've been seeing. he barely even glances at your phone screen when you try to show him a picture you took together.

"you're way out of his league," he states dryly.

"hardly," you scoff. "men don't exactly line up for me like women do for you."

it'd be a lie to claim you didn't have a thing for gojo at one point, but you learned a long time ago that he isn't interested in you that way. it wasn't hard to tell, given his parade of hookups and the occasional two week relationship. you've gotten over it though... for the most part, anyway.

he rolls his eyes. "i assure you that's only because you're shy, princess."

"okay, so you should be rejoicing that your best friend finally landed herself a boyfriend—"

"boyfriend?"

"well.. it's not official yet, but i think he's going to ask me soon!"

your apparent enthusiasm at the prospect leaves a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. of course, it's only because he wants the best for you and this guy certainly isn't it. "you've gone on like two dates."

"'toru, i've been seeing him for almost a month!" when he doesn't respond, you continue speaking. "so... that's why i was sort of hoping you'd come out with us tonight."

he looks at you increduously, "i am not third wheeling."

"you won't be!" you assure. "shoko and kento said they'd come. i just want you to meet him because you're really important to me and i actually think this could go somewhere—"

"alright, alright," he acquiesces, albeit begrudgingly. he's never been able to say no to you.

you squeal with excitement, throwing your arms around his neck in a brief hug. "i can't wait! we're all meeting at seven, i'll text you the address."

after a quick kiss to his cheek, you gather your things, all but running out the door. you weren't going to give him a chance to change his mind.

he stares after you wordlessly, running a hand through his hair while an unfamiliar tightness overcomes his chest.

when gojo enters the bar, he spots you right away despite the sizable crowd. as he makes his way toward your group, he can't help but notice how pretty you look in your little dress. in fact, you'd look absolutely perfect if it weren't for the fact you have another man's arm around your waist.

wait, what?

your laugh rings out across the room and judging by the smirk on shoko's face, he can tell she's said something you find unreasonably funny. once you spot him, your face lights up and you pull away from your almost boyfriend to give gojo a hug, something that brings him a sense of satisfaction.

"hey, sweetheart," he greets loud enough that the other man can hear. "who's this?"

"satoru, this is shinya!" you're beaming at him expectantly, so gojo has no choice but to extend his hand.

"hey, man." shinya shakes it firmly. "it's great to meet you. my girl's told me a lot about you."

gojo's eye twitches and he decides almost immediately that he finds shinya utterly insufferable. his voice is grating and he's too short and didn't you say you prefer guys with lighter hair—

"nice to meet you, too," gojo responds cooly. "i'm always happy to meet one of her friends."

nanami and shoko share a knowing look, more than prepared to break out their hypothetical popcorn. and boy, is this as good an occasion as any.

the strongest sorcerer isn't one to indulge in liquor, but how can he refrain when he has to be in the same room as shinya? each time he touches you, looks in your direction, calls you some sickening pet name— whenever he breathes in your general vicinity, really— gojo brings his drink up to his lips.

everyone else seems to be getting along, but unfortunately, he grows increasingly snarky with each glass he empties.

shinya asks what you'd like when he goes up for another round and it's 'oh, you don't know her favorite drink? well, i guess you're not as close as we are.'

shinya pulls your chair out for you and it's 'wow, you really got yourself a gentleman, princess.'

shinya mentions that he's fairly well versed in martial arts and it's 'really? maybe we should go out back and spar. i think it'd be fun.'

nanami steps in then, not entirely convinced gojo would hesitate before laying him out. "you can put the measuring tape away, idiot."

shinya is being an impressively good sport, but your anxiety has you emptying glasses in a hasty manner, too. you have no idea what's going on with gojo. you understand that he can be abrasive at times and that communication definitely isn't his strong suit, but his behavior is just absurd. you force an awkward laugh at nanami's comment.

"not that i'm not having, um, a great time and all!" you hiccup before continuing. "but i'd really like to dance. c'mon shinya!"

nanami and shoko wind up joining you both, which comes as a surprise. neither of them are exactly the partying type (not that you are either), but you're happy to see them having fun. honestly, you can't remember the last time either of them let loose.

you wonder if they also just wanted to escape gojo's snide remarks. now that they aren't ringing in your ear every other minute, your nerves have certainly calmed down a bit. well, until—

"so you do know that he's totally in love with you, right?"

"who?" you question, looking around as if it'd be obvious.

and it is, just not to you.

shinya chuckles. "gojo."

"what?" you bellow, completely dumfounded. "no way! i mean he's not— and i'm not— we're just friends."

"yeah?" he still sounds amused, nodding in gojo's direction. "is that why he looks like that?"

turning toward your table, even you have to admit he looks completely miserable. unbeknownst to you, he's spent the last half hour sending away every woman that approaches him asking to dance. he just isn't in the mood right now. at least, that's what he tells himself.

"er.. he just doesn't get out that much," you try your best to brush it off.

"whatever you say, baby."

you're relieved he doesn't seem terribly bothered by the idea, even if you find it completely implausible. it's true you spend a lot of time together and that you know one another like the back of your hands, but you'd given up any hope of it being more than friendship a long time ago. you'd moved on.

but if that's the case, why did shinya calling you baby suddenly feel so wrong? you convince yourself it must just be the alcohol.

when the four of you finally stumble back to the table, you realize you've missed last call. though it's probably for the best, as the five of you are certainly in for a nasty hangover the following morning.

it's near closing time, but the crowd has hardly thinned out and the music is still beating loudly in your ears. you're going back to jujutsu tech with your friends rather than home with shinya, so you loudly exchange goodbyes over the music as he gets ready to leave.

"i had a really great time tonight," he tells you. "maybe we could go for dinner tomorrow? there's something i've been wanting to ask you."

"okay!" you agree eagerly, eyes shining. "i'll call you in the morning."

gojo feels his stomach drop, his jaw clenching bitterly. he tries to tell himself to relax because this is what you want, but he just can't seem to get his thoughts straight.

shinya leans down, his lips meeting yours sweetly, and it causes white hot anger to flood gojo's body. it all happens so fast, shinya's ripped away from you with astounding force and he staggers backward. you've been struggling to hear over the noise all night, though you make out each word that follows with striking clarity.

"get the fuck away from her!"

gojo stalks off before anyone has time to process what just happened. he's already half way across the room when you come to your senses.

"'toru!" you call out, taking a step in his direction when he doesn't respond. "satoru!"

you take another step but you're stopped when something pulls you back. you look down to find shinya's hand wrapped around your wrist before your gaze turns up to meet his eye. "look, i really like you, but if you go after him, don't bother calling tomorrow."

the ultimatum is simple, but so is your decision. "i'm sorry."

you run off before he can say anything else, shoving your way through the bar patrons, and follow gojo out the door into the cold air of night.

"satoru!" you shout once more, thankful that his pace is slow enough for you to catch up. he turns to face you when you tug on his sleeve.

you nearly shy away from him, his expression something fierce, but the liquor in your system gives you courage. "what the hell was that? you embarrassed me—"

"i don't fucking care," he spits.

he's never taken such a tone with you, so you throw your hands in the air and exhale impatiently. "what do you mean? you should care! you're my friend, aren't you?"

"that's exactly what i mean. you're supposed to be mine," he growls.

you're not sure how it happens, but the next thing you know, his lips are crashing into yours, your teeth knocking together with the force. his hands paw at your hips, pulling your body against his greedily.

"i can't believe," he mumbles against your lips, "you wasted your time," his hands find your hair, tugging your head back and revealing your neck, "with that fucking loser."

once he's finished speaking, his lips trail across your jaw, landing just below your ear. your eyes flutter open and you're suddenly very aware that you're standing in the middle of a public sidewalk.

"'toru," your voice is breathy, even though you're trying desperately to keep it together. "there are people—"

he pulls away heatedly, his eyes narrowed. "you didn't care when he kissed you in front of everyone."

"yeah, but that was just a peck," you reason, though if he keeps this up, you're worried you might lose your resolve.

"tch, i guess you're right." the familiar sensation of warping through space and time sweeps through your body for a few seconds before your feet meet solid ground again. you don't need to look around to know you're in his bedroom. "we're going to do a lot more than that tonight."

your stomach flips at his words, heat rushing to your core. his lips find your neck once more, leaving sloppy kisses along your skin. "that's what you want right? for me to show you who you belong to?"

you nod weakly, feeling as if you're in a daze.

"ah, ah. use your words, sweetheart."

"yes— ah—" he sucks on the spot just above your collarbone before nipping the delicate skin there. "yes, 'toru."

"then get on the bed," he orders lowly.

and who are you to disobey? you can't honestly say you haven't been dreaming of this for years. his blanket feels cool to the touch, making you realize suddenly how much your skin is already burning with desire.

he kneels beside the bed, wasting no time before pushing up your dress and pulling your legs apart. you see his shoulders fall as he exhales harshly at the sight. his eyes flutter shut when he presses a kiss to your core over the tiny cotton panties you decided to wear.

he's rudely reminded of the possibility that you may have put them on with another man in mind.

"did you let him fuck you?" he interrogates. his eyes don't leave yours as he begins placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thigh.

"n-no!" it's almost embarrassing how vehemently you deny it, but the man between your legs takes great pleasure in your response.

"mm, knew you were a good girl."

he hooks a finger beneath your panties, pulling them down excruciatingly slow. you buck your hips up once he throws them off to the side.

"feeling eager, princess?" he taunts, his breath fanning across your center.

you nod, your legs shaking with anticipation, before remembering what he said about using your words. "please, 'toru. need you so bad."

he can't possibly deny you, not when you beg for him so sweetly. he presses a soft kiss to your swollen bud before flattening his tongue against it, drawing circles there. he groans when your slickness coat his chin.

you whine when his eyes shift up to meet yours and push yourself against him even further. he chuckles against your skin, but truth be told, he's just as eager as you are. he slips one long finger inside of you, relishing in how easily you take it.

"oh—" you cry out as he adds another finger, his tongue pressing against you just a little harder.

his other hand is gripping your thigh roughly, the flesh spilling between his fingers. one of your arms is supporting your weight, but the other reaches out, your fingers threading through his hair.

you're panting now, tugging on his white locks in pleasure. he moans in response and the way your walls are clenching around him lets him know you're close. "c'mon baby, cum for me."

that's all it takes for you to unravel, his name falling from your lips over and over. he doesn't stop until he's sure you've come down from your high.

"you tasted so perfect," he tells you, unbuckling his pants in a hurry and shoving them down his legs.

his shirt and boxers follow quickly thereafter, so you pull your dress over your head. you can't tear your eyes away from his cock, it's long and thick and pretty.

he pushes you back against the bed and crawls on top of you, but then he just stares down at your face. just as you begin to wonder if something is wrong—

"you're so fucking beautiful. have i ever told you that?"

your mind reels for an answer, but you don't have to worry about it for long, as his lips capture yours. you can taste yourself on his tongue

"tell me what you want," he murmurs against your lips as he moves his cock along your slit, coating himself in your wetness.

"need you, 'toru. p-please, i need you to fuck me."

he smiles against your lips as he lines himself up with your entrance, pushing inside slowly. he leans back to find that your eyes are screwed shut and your lips are parted in bliss. he's determine to seer the image into his mind forever.

splitting you open is absolute ecstasy, the noises he's making are proof enough of that. "fuck, princess. fuck."

he nearly whimpers when he bottoms out. "god, you feel so perfect. i could stay in this pussy forever."

your legs wrap around his waist once he begins to pump in and out. "never felt so full, 'toru. it feels s'good."

he shudders at your words and laces his fingers with yours, sweat beading on his forehead as he picks up his pace. his head dips down, his teeth nipping the skin of your neck aggressively.

"p-people are gonna see—"

"i want them to," he rumbles. "want everyone to know how good i made this tight little pussy feel."

you can't argue with him, not when this is the best anyone's ever made you feel. his head shifts even lower, his tongue moving along your nipples in a way that has your back arching off the bed.

he uses the opportunity to snake an arm beneath your lower back, holding your body against himself firmly. the new angle has you mewling his name in the most sinful way.

"you're takin' me so well. like you were made for this cock."

your head's lolling to the side as you fall to pieces beneath him and he can feel himself getting close. "look at me when i fuck you, baby."

you do as he asks, his hips stuttering when he sees the tears of pleasure swimming in your eyes. "you're mine, aren't you? tell me you're mine."

your pussy clenches around his cock so tight it's almost painful. "i'm yours, 'toru. all yours."

"fuck, that's my good girl. gonna cum for me again, hm?"

you nod up at him meekly, too far gone for words, but he doesn't seem to mind this time.

"'i'm close too, sweetheart." his fingers reach down to rub circles on your clit, eliciting a throaty moan from you.

you feel your stomach tighten and you're nearly there, but you don't go over the edge until he begs, "can i fill you up? want to so bad."

you can't find the strength to respond, so you hope the way you tighten your legs around his waist and claw at his back is answer enough.

your head rolls to the side once more, your vision going fuzzy around the edges. he grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning you to face him. "please, baby. wanna see you when i cum—"

he hums your name through a choked moan, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he reaches his own high. he collapses on top of you, laying there for a moment before pulling out and rolling onto his back beside you.

no words are shared, both of you trying to catch your breath and slow your heart rate. the silence gives your mind a chance to wander, which is never a good thing.

you consider the fact that gojo's never kept a girl around for more than a week or two— that this probably meant way more to you than it did to him. you sit up feeling stupid and wrap your arms around your chest.

you look around the room in search of your panties, his cum running down your thighs when you stand up to grab them. it's not until you pull them up your legs that he opens his eyes. he props himself up on his elbow, furrowing his eyebrows when you pick up your dress.

"what are you doing?" he asks curiously.

"well, i figured i should go back to my room—"

"what, are you crazy?" he gawks at you. "get your ass back in this bed."

you approach him shyly, your apprehension clear to him. "i mean, you can if you want, but why would you go back to your room?"

"i just didn't know if you... you know.."

"no, i don't know." if you knew him any less, you might think he was intent on torturing you, but it's clear to you that he's genuinely confused.

you sigh. "i just didn't know what this meant for us."

"baby, i didn't think i could make it any more clear." he sits up to grab you by the wrist, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist. "i'm all yours, so you're stuck with me." he tries to mask the nervousness in his voice when he asks, "is that okay with you?"

you nod, hiding your face in his neck. "took you long enough."

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

Question for the artist, whats the parameters for drawing fusion fanart? Because a lot of people see it as a romanic thing, but it isnt always that. For example, are you okay with fans drawing steven fused the crystal gems? Are you okay with fans drawing any fusions including CG, or is that an ick?

Okay, SO. I apologize for answering this late - I was trying to find the correct way to reply to this ask without coming off as someone extremely senile and jaded.

First things first - I really appreciate you taking my feelings into consideration on this! I can tell it comes from a place of genuine kindness and caring, and I think that's awesome.

I'm not unfamiliar with the fact that some artists feel very protective of their characters, and sometimes try to lay down rules about how they are to be viewed, how they are to be drawn by others, etc. So I don't blame you at all for assuming this is something that needs to be done, given the current fandom environment in certain spaces.

That all being said.

This idea that drawing characters in Situations Which May Be Uncomfortable To Someone With A Specific Interpretation Of The Media (which is not at all supported by canon text) is transgressive is..... boy...... that's not a good one.

It is..... Extremely Evangelical in its conception.

Guys. GUYS. Thought crime isn't a crime. ART isn't a crime.

But to answer your question -

Yes, you can absolutely draw Steven - WD!AU Steven - fusing with the gems or CG.

Yes, you can absolutely draw CG fusing with Steven or the Crystal Gems, etc.

Because

Even if someone DID assume fusion was romantic primarily, that doesn't mean it should be the default, and in fact it ISN'T. Many, MANY fusions in the show are not representative of romantic relationships.

Canon Steven, in the Canon show, fused with TONS of people he didn't have romantic feelings for. Most of the people, outside of Connie, for a start.

Even if imagining CG in a romantic relationship with the Crystal Gems DOES give me the 'ick' (which, actually, yeah, it kinda does I guess, given that I can't really see that thing happening given that she's effectively (not LITERALLY) a child) that doesn't mean YOUR art has to be limited by my presumptions of what fusion means in this context, if we disagree on it

And not to put too fine a point on it but

Fusion ISN'T inherently about romance.

Fusion ISN'T inherently sexual!

No part of the show supports either of these ideas. Fusion is and always has been explicitly about various types of RELATIONSHIPS - including things like sibling bonds (Smokey Quartz), parent-child relationships (Steg, Steven and ANY of the CGs), friendships, Unhealthy Control-Seeking (Malachite) and just straight up collaborative murder (a la Aquamarine and Ruby).

Yes, some fusions ARE inherently romantic in nature, but that does not mean ALL fusions adhere to these rules. In fact, MOST fusions aren't even about that.

And even if they were.............we're all allowed to express our OWN interpretation of things using art. That's not an Ungood Thought that you should be shamed for.

thank you for coming to my ted talk

[aliendes]

SVT Reaction to yelling at you for the first time/saying something hurtful pt. 2

a/n: ok here is pt. 2! i got a ton of asks/comments asking for a pt. 2 and honestly I kinda hate this. its totally unedited, as usual, and I really don't feel like I gave all of them justice. some of them feel kinda rushed, but anywayssssss, send me your others requests for SVT while I'm on this writing kick... hehehe.

w/c: 8,000~ sheeeeeesh

warnings: angsssssssssst, like a lot of angst, female reader (for a couple of the boys), pet names (good girl), hurt/comfort, mentions of previous slap and bruising, just overall angsty as per usual. no smut but this blog is 19+ MDNI as always.

Seungcheol (S.coups)

Just like Seungcheol promised, he stayed up against the wall by your bedroom door all night. He tried his best to fight sleep but eventually, his exhaustion got the better of him and he fell asleep sitting up, head dipped down so his chin touched his chest. 

When you finally decided you’d locked him out long enough, sometime in the middle of the night, you quietly exited your bedroom to find him in this state. A wave of guilt rushed through you at seeing him like this. He was probably exhausted from non-stop practice, and you knew he shouldn’t be sleeping in positions like this, his physiotherapist would probably kill him. But you also knew that you were incredibly hurt by his words and until he properly apologized you couldn’t allow yourself to feel that guilty. 

Instead of waking him up, you walked out to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. But the small noises of clinking glass and running water woke your boyfriend up from his slumber. Stumbling into the kitchen, one fist rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and the other massaging his knee, he found you standing there sipping from your glass, eyes red and swollen from crying. 

“Baby…” his voice was rough, you could tell he had been crying too and it made your heart clench. He took a few steps towards you and you didn’t resist, letting him get close. “Honey, I’m so sorry.” Seungcheol reached both his hands out to you but didn’t dare touch until he got your permission. That permission came in the form of you setting your glass down on the counter and opening your arms for him to fall into. 

The relief he felt was immense as he sunk into your embrace. “I’m so, so sorry baby,” he was sobbing without realizing it, soaking the front of your sleep shirt with salty tears, “I didn’t mean it, you know how much I love you and I c-can’t believe I s-said something like that to you.”

You hugged him closer as your own tears started to fall again. “It’s ok Cheol, I forgive you.” You whispered into his hair as you held him. His embrace was warm and felt like home and of course, you forgave him, he meant what he said, and you were his entire world, as he was yours. “I love you so much, Cheollie.”

“I love you, too, baby, please never leave me.”

Jeonghan 

It’s been three days and Jeonghan is losing his absolute mind. He has never gone more than a single day without some form of communication with you, and if your sister Nayeon hadn’t texted him yesterday to let him know you are in fact fine, he would’ve probably filed a police report by now.

He’s sent probably hundreds of texts and he calls you at least a few times a day. Each and every one has gone unanswered and Jeonghan just doesn’t know what to do with himself at this point. 

He had just gotten home from practice, as he was sent home early by Seungcheol, stating he ‘needed to take a breather’ after sulking around the practice room for hours on end. When he dropped his keys on the kitchen island he startled at the sight of you standing at the stove, stirring something in a pot.

“Lovey?” Jeonghan asked as you turned around to look at him. He sounded as if he didn’t really believe his eyes and thought maybe he was hallucinating you standing in your shared kitchen. “You - you’re home?”

You gave a tight-lipped smile and nodded twice before turning back around to finish whatever you were cooking. It smelled delicious and Jeonghan suddenly couldn’t remember the last time he ate. But that didn’t matter right now. You’re home.

“Baby, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean any of that, you know that right?” He asked, desperately, as he moved closer to you, reaching out like he wanted to give you a back hug. Any other time he would’ve been clinging to you as you cooked, but now he hesitated. Were you still upset? Of course, you were, how could he ever think you wouldn’t hate his guts after what he did. “Lovey, please… please look at me.” Jeonghan was on the verge of tears now, thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios. It was his sniffles that finally made you turn to face him, tears already falling from your own eyes.

“Hannie…” your voice was quiet and choked, and the look of exhaustion on your face broke Jeonghan’s heart even further. 

“Baby… can I please hold you? Please?” The tears were flowing freely now, he didn’t even bother to stop them. When you shyly nodded he wasted no time in scooping you up in his arms and placing you on the kitchen countertop, arms wrapped around your middle as he sobbed into your chest. You weren’t faring much better, arms wrapped tightly around his neck and you cried into his soft hair. “Please, pl-please don’t leave me. Please, lovey, I was so, so worried. I don’t know what to do without you, an-and I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.”

“I know, Hannie. I know.”

“N-no, please. Let me make it up to you. I mean it, I don’t know what came over me, and I will spend forever making things right again.” All you could do was hold your boyfriend and nod, knowing that he would indeed keep this promise. 

Joshua

“Y/N! Wait!” Joshua snapped back to reality right away, watching as you rushed down the sidewalk back toward your workplace. He shut his car off quickly before grabbing his keys and phone and rushing out after you. “Y/N!”

He caught up to you quickly, you being much shorter than him, in a few long strides. He grabbed your elbow lightly, not allowing you to walk any further. “Baby, I know you’re upset. Fuck, I’m so sorry, but do not rush off, it’s not safe.”

You halted your steps but didn’t turn around to face your boyfriend. Tears were threatening to fall, but you held them back as you waited for him to continue. 

“F-fuck, Y/N. I’m sorry, I have no idea what just came over me. You are not a slut, and I don’t believe anything that just came out of my mouth, please baby, please believe me.” His grip loosened on your arm once he was sure you weren’t going to run again. “I know you’re mad, but please get back in the car, we can go home and you can scream at me all you want. But I want to make sure you’re safe.”

You finally turn to face Joshua as the tears started to fall. There weren’t too many people around, but it was enough to make your face heat with embarrassment, making Joshua’s heart shatter. On top of hurting you with his words you were embarrassed and it was all his fault. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged gently, offering you his hand, which you reluctantly take. “Let’s talk about it on the way home.” You nodded and followed him back towards the car, allowing him to open the door for you and click your seatbelt into place before taking his place behind the wheel again. 

You wiped your tears with the sleeve of your sweater as Joshua began to drive. You mumbled something softly that Josh didn’t quite pick up. “Say that again, baby?” He looked over at you with soft eyes, waiting for you to repeat yourself.

“He’s gay.”

Joshua took a moment to realize what you were talking about before it clicked. Your coworker. The gay one who just got engaged to his fiance. Their wedding is this summer and you’ve been talking about it non-stop since he asked you to be in the wedding party. Joshua felt like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“Shit. Sweetheart, I knew that. Fucking hell I’m an idiot. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N.” He ran one hand over his face, blinking rapidly to try and hold back his own tears of embarrassment now, not letting them fall so he could get you both home safe.

You wouldn’t look at him the rest of the ride home, but when you got home that night Joshua groveled and babied you until you forgave him for his shitty words. 

Jun

The next day, Jun kept the promise he made in the last voicemail he sent. He was on the first flight home after his schedules and the entire flight back to Korea he was wracking his brain with what he was going to say to fix this, if he even could fix this. The thought was tearing him apart. He did his best to sleep on the plane, but he couldn’t get his mind to stop picturing the worst case scenarios of you leaving him when he got home.

Once he was finally standing outside your shared apartment door, bouquet in hand, he knocked quickly three times, despite having the passcode. If you needed space, he was going to give that to you, his feelings be damned.

After a moment you opened the door, surprised to see your boyfriend holding a rather large bouquet of flowers, though you guess he did tell you he was coming home today in his voicemails. You almost felt guilty for making him come home a few days earlier than he should have, but that thought quickly evaporates when you remembered his words from last night.

“Why are you here?” You ask, not allowing him to pass you and enter your apartment, despite him also living there. You could tell Jun had been crying, you could tell he was miserable, and while you felt a pang of heartache for your usually loving boyfriend, you couldn’t help but feel some sort of satisfaction that he had been up all night crying just like you had. 

Junhui frowned at your words, but pushed the flowers towards you gently. “These are for you… and Y/N, please. I’m so sorry…” He was wearing the most forlorn look on his face as he stared down at his feet. 

You took pity on your boyfriend and took the flowers, turning on your heel to bring them into the kitchen, leaving the door open so he could finally come in. As you set the bouquet down on the countertop, you turned back to the doorway, watching as your boyfriend stayed standing outside, still staring at his feet. 

“Well, are you just gonna stand there, or come in?” You asked snippily.

Jun looked up at you, large doe eyes watering with unshed tears, before nodding and entering the apartment and softly closing the door behind him. He still couldn’t bare to look at your face and the remnants of dried tear tracks and puffy cheeks. He felt immeasurable guilt for the things he said last night and how he made you feel. So he continued staring down at the floor out of respect for you.

“Y/N, I hope you know I didn’t mean any of those things I said last night. I love you and your family so, so much. There is nowhere in this world I would rather be than with you, in your arms, making you the happiest person on the planet. I love your family, and one day I know they’ll be my family, too, so, of course, I love them, of course, I will do whatever it takes to make them happy too, because-” Jun let out a soft ‘oof’ when you collided with his chest, stunned for a moment before he gently closed his arms around your middle, resting his cheek on your soft hair. “I love you more than all the stars in the sky.”

You were sniffling now and Jun could tell you were on the verge of full-blown sobbing when you said with a watery voice, “And I love you more than all the fish in the sea.”

Soonyoung

When Soonyoung entered your darkened apartment, there was silence, and that scared him more than the noises you made when you ran out of the practice room. With his thoughts spiraling to all the worst-case scenarios of what could be happening, he quickly searched through your shared space, checking all the rooms and bathrooms to figure out where you were hiding. 

When he reached the guest bedroom, he heard it. A small sniffle and a gasp for air. Without thinking he launched himself onto the guest bed, thinking he’d find you, but you weren’t there. Looking around again, he finally spotted you, squished in between the corner wall and the old dresser you two had put in here last year. Your head was between your knees and you were attempting to take deep breaths, but he could tell it was futile. 

Rushing over to you he dropped to his knees, ignoring the pain in his knee caps as he did so, and reached out to put his hands on your shoulders. Your head shot up as if you hadn’t heard all the commotion before and stared up at your boyfriend with a red, puffy face, streaming with tears. The sight broke Soonyoung’s heart even further, but he needed to help you through this first and foremost. 

“Baby, I need you to breathe, ok? Can you do that for me?” You shook your head no, an action that he mirrored, “I know you’re upset, and you should be, but right now I’m more worried about your breathing. Ok, deep breath…” Soonyoung took an exaggerated deep breath in which you were reluctant to mirror, “C’mon baby, please breathe with me.” You could tell from your boyfriend’s tone that he was actually starting to get scared and in turn that scared you, so you followed along with his instructions. “There you go, good girl, again…”

After a few minutes of following Soonyoung’s deep breathing, your own started to even out, satisfying your boyfriend enough for him to properly sit down and pull you into his lap, cradling you like you were the most precious thing to him in that moment. As you started to move to get out of his embrace, his arms tightened slightly around you as he murmured into your hair, “Please… please baby, please don’t leave me.”

His panicked tone set you on edge again, having thought you were both calmed down from before, but clearly he needed this now. 

“Please…” he was sobbing into your hair, your shoulder, just trying to be as close to you as possible, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so fucking sorry, please, please don’t leave.” He was begging now.

“Soon…” You whispered, taking one cheek in your hand and raising his face to meet your eyes. You could see the anguish there, he really thought you were about to leave him for good. “Soon, I’m not leaving. I’m just really upset with you, you said some cruel things to me.”

Soonyoung cleared his throat slightly, but the tears kept running, “And you should be! I was horrible, baby, and I’m so fucking sorry. I was in my head about practice and nothing going right today.”

“I can see that Soonyoung, but it doesn’t give you the right to treat me that way.”

“You’re right, I’m not making excuses. I was wrong, and if you’ll let me I will make it up to you, and prove to you it wont happen again. I love you so much, and all I want is to cherish you.”

You slid your hand down his cheek, his neck, his shoulder, until you wrapped both your arms around him, squeezing him tightly, which he returned without a second thought. “And I love you, too, Soonie.”

Wonwoo

Wonwoo had been knocking on your friend’s door for the last five minutes, he knew you were in there. You told him last night where you were going, but you hadn’t answered any of his calls or texts all night, finally prompting him to drive over here himself and make sure you were alright.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, Sunmi answered the door wearing a robe with her hair up in a towel. It was clear she had just showered and she looked like she was about to tear Wonwoo a new one, until she saw the crazed look in his eyes. 

“Wonwoo? What are you doing at my door at,” she looked behind her at her microwave clock, “6:53 am? Is it Y/N?” Now she was starting to panic, wondering why your boyfriend is at her apartment looking like he just went through hell and back.

“She’s not here?” Wonwoo’s eyes widened, “What do you mean she’s not here? She didn’t come over last night?” Sunmi shook her head, not understanding what Wonwoo meant. She talked to you yesterday, but made no plans to come over. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck!” Wonwoo ran both his hands through his hair and turned on his heel, running down the hallway of Sunmi’s apartment building. “Call me if she shows up, please!” He yelled over his shoulder, and all Sunmi could do was nod before he disappeared down the corridor. 

Now, Wonwoo was actually panicking. How could he let you go last night? What if something horrible happened to you? What if- he needed to find you. Now. 

Wonwoo started calling all of your friends, your brother, even his friends, to see if you were with any of them, only to be met with the same answer: No, they hadn’t seen or heard from you. Wonwoo walked through the streets near your shared apartment, every scenario of what could have happened to you running through his mind. The picture of you sitting somewhere, cold and sad with your duffle bag absolutely sends him spiraling. He’s calling your phone over and over, sending texts that are becoming more crazed as time goes on. 

Wonwoo is nearly home, resigned to finally calling your mother and the police, when he gets the text. 

From: Y/N  i’m home

Fuck. He shoved his phone in his pocket and started sprinting the rest of the way home, not taking even a moment to catch his breath before he’s bursting through the front door, finding you with your face in your hands, sitting on the couch of your shared living room. 

“Y/N, oh my God, Y/N…” Wonwoo dropped to his knees in front of you, reaching out and smoothing his hands over your shoulders, needing to feel that you were real, “Y/N are you ok? What happened, where were you?” Wonwoo we crying from relief at this point, trying, and failing to hold back his sobs. 

You sniffled again and finally pulled your head from your palms, looking at your boyfriend, who looked absolutely pitiful. You would’ve chuckled if the situation wasn’t so serious. His glasses were askew on his face, his bedhead sticking out in different places, and tears running down his face, making his eyes red and puffy. He looked like he fared no better than you last night and the thought made you feel better somehow. 

Wonwoo was still looking up at you expectantly, not bothering to wipe the tears from his face. “I was in the subway station.” Wonwoo furrowed his brow and reached out to grab your hands, you let him, knowing what he was doing.

“Your hands are freezing, Y/N.” Wonwoo reached up, brushing his knuckles lightly over your reddened cheek, “Shit. You’re burning up. You stayed down at the station? All night?”

You nodded, closing your eyes at the sensation of his cooler hand against your warm skin. 

Without asking, Wonwoo stood up and scooped you into his arms, bringing you to your shared bedroom and settling you comfortably on the mattress. He stripped your coat and shoes off before wrapping you in the warm duvet. He left momentarily to grab some medicines from the bathroom and make some hot tea. When he returned, you were curled in on yourself, sniffling and coughing from the cold Wonwoo presumed you had. 

Setting the tea and meds on the nightstand, he took a seat on the bed near your huddled form and rubbed his hand up and down what he assumed was your back. “I’m really sorry, you know. Like… I’m such an asshole. I didn’t even realize what I said until Cheol told me I was being a dick. Which I was.”

You let out a slight chuckle at that, which made Wonwoo smile. Maybe all wasn’t lost. His eyes softened as he watched you cough again. “I’m so, so sorry, love. You are my entire world and I’m so sorry I made you feel like that wasn’t true last night. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to get away from me and it got you sick.” A few more tears fell as he finished, “I hope you know I’m not letting you out of my sight until you're better. This is all my fault and I’m going to show you how much you mean to me if it’s the last thing I do.”

Wonwoo leaned over you, hugging you the best he could in your prone position. You turned onto your back slightly, reaching up and wrapping your arms loosely around your boyfriend's neck, hugging him back, and leaning your face into the crook of his neck. He placed light kisses all over the side of your face as he whispered into your ear, “I love you so much, Y/N. Always.”

Jihoon

Jihoon stayed in his studio that night, not having the balls to face you. Though he did send a few texts, updating you on what he was doing, asking if you were alright, and checking in throughout the night. All of which went unanswered.

When morning came, Jihoon couldn’t sit still any longer. He hardly got any work done throughout the night, which was the entire reason for your fight, which only made him feel even more guilty. So after he powered down his computer and locked up his studio, he headed down to the cafe to grab breakfast and coffees for you before heading home.

When he unlocked the front door and walked into shared apartment, he was shocked to see you still awake, working on something on your laptop as you sat on the floor of the living room, back against the sofa. If the bags under your eyes told Jihoon anything, it’s that you didn’t get any sleep either. He winced at the thought of you up and working all night, though he figured he deserved to feel the heavy guilt on his shoulders. 

When he approached you with a bag of food and coffee, you finally looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. You could tell he felt miserable, his hair was sticking out in every direction as if he had run his hands through it all night, his glasses were smudged from his fingers pushing them up over and over, and he had what looked suspiciously like dried tear tracks on his cheeks. Jihoon set the bag and coffee down on the table before taking a seat next to you, his eyes never leaving your form.

“I brought breakfast.” Was the only thing he could think to say. Jihoon felt like such as idiot. “I didn’t expect you to be awake.”

You scoffed at that, looking away from him and back to your laptop. “Of course you didn’t. Apparently you don’t think I work very hard in the first place.” You slammed your laptop closed with a little too much force, making Jihoon jump slightly. He winced at his own words, going and fucking up again.

“Y/N…” he started, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath, “I am so… so, so fucking sorry. I know how hard you work. I let my stress get the better of me and that is not an excuse. I fucked up. I know I did.”

“Yeah… you did, Jihoon. Coffee and breakfast isn’t going to fix this.”

“No, I know. I just wanted to make sure you ate, since you never let me know last night if you had dinner.” Jihoon put his head in his hands. “I have no idea why I said those things when you are the hardest working person I fucking know. I can’t take it back, but I will continue apologizing for it for as long as you’ll let me.”

You sighed, you knew Jihoon didn’t mean what he said. That didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt. But you could also see how sorry he was. Hell, the fact that he was home this early in the morning was testament to that. Deciding that you had forgiven him, but not wanting to make it too easy on him, you reached over the coffee table, grabbing the bag of pastries. 

“If it means I get breakfast every morning, I guess I can forgive you.” Jihoon looked up at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

“Whatever you want, baby.”

Seokmin

Seokmin had been at the dorms for approximately 20 minutes when he just couldn’t take it anymore. You had texted him to let him know to give you some space, and that you could talk tomorrow, but he just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew he fucked up bad, especially once he got to the dorms and Jeonghan had asked him what happened. When he explained it to his hyung, Jeonghan has scoffed and chewed him out for being such a dumbass, before he finally showed Seokmin that the website he was looking at was a fanmade troll website. 

Seokmin had never felt so guilty, so horrible in his entire life. You, the love of his life, his literal sunshine on a cloudy day, was hurt because of something he did, something he said, and he was really spiraling thinking about it. 

Without thinking too hard about it, he grabbed his things and left the dorm, ignoring Mingyu’s questioning shouts behind him. 

Seokmin ran all the way to your shared apartment, which wasn’t all that far from the dorms, but far enough that when he reached your front door he was winded. Pressing the passcode to the door, he fumbled a few times before he finally got it right and burst through the door.

He found you lying under the covers of your shared bed, quietly sobbing, and his heart shattered at the sight. “Baby….?”

You startled and sat up in bed, letting the duvet fall around you, not expecting Seokmin to be back so soon. “Seok?” Your voice was scratchy and it made Seokmin feel even worse. At this point, he wasn’t sure how much worse he could feel, but he knew he deserved every last ounce of the guilt he was feeling. 

“Fuck.. I’m so, so sorry, baby.” Seokmin stumbled his way over to the bed before resting both palms on in, not wanting to join you on the bed if he wasn’t wanted. “I couldn’t - I couldn’t stay at the dorms, I can’t be away from you right now. Fuck! I’m so stupid, I’m so, so fucking stupid!” He cried, not bothering to stop the tears now that you were in front of him.

Your face crumpled and your tears fell again, not wanting to see your usually upbeat boyfriend so distraught, despite him of being deserving of it. “Seok, it wasn’t real…”

“I know, I know, sweetheart. I’m such a dumbass for confronting you like that. I will never, ever forgive myself for the things I said to you. For making you feel like… like this.” He gestured at you wildly, not knowing fully how to convey his thoughts. “I… I talked with Jeonghan-hyung when I got to the dorms, he chewed me out,” Seokmin looked sheepish as he continued, “he showed me it was fake… baby, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“It’s okay, Seok… I understand, I would probably have reacted poorly too if I was-”

Seokmin violently shook his head, “No, no please, Y/N. Don’t let me off the hook that easily. How I reacted was wrong, so fucking wrong, and you don’t deserve that. Especially not from me. Please, please let me show you how sorry I am. I will prove to you that you are safe here, with me, and I will never, ever let my temper get the best of my like that again.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you opened your arms for your boyfriend to fall into. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he tackled you back onto the soft pillows, kissing your cheeks, your nose, your eyes, everywhere he could reach, making you giggle. “Ok… ok, Seok. I believe you.”

He pulled away slightly to look into your eyes, his big brown orbs sparkled back at you, and all he could say in response was, “Thank you, baby.”

Mingyu

When you got to your brother’s house, Joshua immediately sat you down and made you explain everything. Through tears you explained how Mingyu had accused you and yelled at you, and how you were so confused at the text messages because you swear you didn’t send them to him. 

Joshua was livid, he was seeing red when he called Soonyoung over to his apartment and made him also explain what had happened. Through all your revelations it was discovered that you actually had sent those texts to Soonyoung, only you were drunk, and you thought Soonyoung was Mingyu. Apparently it happened last weekend when you were out with your friends for a bachelorette party and as stupid as you felt, as guilty as you felt for putting Soonyoung and now Mingyu is such an odd predicament, Mingyu was still out of line for the way he spoke to you and accused you.

Joshua helped you ice your back after Soonyoung left, wincing when you showed him the bruise that was forming there. It only fueled his anger further, making his decision to call Mingyu over final. Once Joshua had you comfortable in the guest bed, he called Mingyu to see what exactly was going through is head. 

Once he explained what had actually happened, Mingyu was in tears, sobbing to him over the phone, hiccuping and making it hard for Joshua to understand anything he was saying. Joshua asked Mingyu to come over but to stay quiet, as you were napping after the emotional afternoon you just had. Mingyu agreed and showed up not even 15 minutes later.

Joshua and Mingyu had a long discussion about how Mingyu should be treating you, with your boyfriend silently crying throughout the whole thing. Neither of them realized that you were in fact awake, and listening just around the corner from the living room. When Joshua and Mingyu were done talking, you came around the corner and immediately went and sat in Mingyu’s lap, hugging tightly around his neck. Mingyu was stunned for a second, but wrapped his strong arms around you just as tightly.

“Baby…” he whispered into your hair as he watched Joshua get up and leave the living room with a slight smile on his face. “I’m so sorry for reacting the way I did.”

“It’s fine, Gyu,” you sniffled as you pulled back to look him in the eyes, “It was all a stupid misunderstanding and I’m sorry, too, for sending those texts.”

“Hey, baby, no - don’t apologize. You thought you were texting me. It’s me who should be apologizing for how I treated you. And I am. I’m so fucking sorry, baby.” Mingyu cupped your cheek in his large hand, thumb running over the apple of your cheek to catch your tears. “You are my entire world.”

“I forgive you, Gyu.” You whisper as you lean down to kiss your pouty boyfriend. 

Minghao

Steeling himself, Minghao took a deep breath and walked back out into the kitchen. He knew that he needed to own up to how he just treated you, but honestly all he could think about the moment he sees you hyperventilating on the kitchen floor, is making sure you were safe. Pushing the fight and his need for apologies to thge back of his mind, he sunk down to his knees in front of you, putting one hand on your shoulder and the other on your cheek, bringing your face up to look at him.

“Y/N, look at me…” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. You shook your head violently, trying to get away from him, “Hey. Hey hey, baby, it’s ok, you’re ok, we’re ok. I just need you to breathe Y/N.” Your boyfriend did his best to take some deep breaths, gently nudging your cheek again so you would look up into his eyes. You look so small and scared and even though his heart was breaking, he knew you needed him right now. “Deep breath, there you go. Good girl. Tell me five things you can see.”

You hiccupped when you tried to take a deep breath and Minghao made exaggerated motions with his chest to show you how to breathe. Once your breathing evened out a bit you started to mumble, looking anywhere that wasn’t him. “T-t-table… a- a mug.” You pointed weakly to the kitchen counter. Minghao didn’t need to look, didn’t care if you were right, just needed you to keep talking. 

You looked down at his hands, “Ring,” his eyes softened when you mentioned the team ring on his pinky and grabbed at his wrist. “Y-you.” 

“Who, Y/N?”

“H-Hao.”

“One more.”

You took another shaky breath in and looked around, “The p-plant.” You motioned with your eyes to the pothos plant sitting just above the kitchen sink. 

“Good. I’m right here, baby. I got you.” Minghao whispered as he moved to sit down right next to you, letting you hold onto his wrist still, he gently picked you up and moved you so you were situated on his lap. “Now, four things you can touch.”

You rested your head against his shoulder as you started to calm down. “Your hair,” you whispered as you ran your fingers through his long hair. “Your sweater,” you mumbled as your hand reached the soft material of his sweater. “My jeans,” you said as you shifted in Minghao’s lap and he chuckled softly knowing how much you hated wearing denim at home. 

“One more, baby.” He whispered softly into your ear. 

“Heartbeat…” you murmured quietly as your hand rested against his chest. Before he could continue with your calming techniques you cut him off. “I’m fine, Hao.” He wasn’t sure if he believed you, but he couldn’t hear the tremble in your voice anymore, so he chose to just hold you tightly.

After a moment of silence, Minghao whispered in your ear. “I am so, so incredibly sorry, my love. I’ve been stressed lately, and seeing you so stressed just freaked me out.” His voice was so soft like he was trying not to startle you. You nodded against his neck and he could feel the wetness from your remaining tears gathering near his collarbone. “I hate seeing you hurt, and I can’t believe I’m the one who hurt you this time.”

“You didn’t…” you trailed off, pulling back to look your boyfriend in the eye. He gave you a look that told you that was a lie, so you added, “I mean, not initially. Sometimes I just…. Get this way and I don’t know how to fix it.” You looked down at your hand still resting on Minghao’s chest and sniffled.

“That’s okay, my love. That’s why I’m here. I shouldn’t have yelled, I should’ve helped you in whatever way I could, and I am so sorry that I didn’t do that.”

You looked back up at his big brown orbs, noticing the wetness there. Minghao rarely cried, especially not in front of others, so without hesitation you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his hair. “I forgive you.”

“I promise you are safe with me.”

Seungkwan

When 3 a.m. hit Seungkwan couldn’t keep his cool any longer. He refused to go to sleep without speaking to you, regardless of how mean he was to you earlier, he wasn’t going to break the promise the both of you had made to each other. 

He had called you several times by now, but at this point, your phone was off. Either that or you blocked him, but he was refusing to believe that just yet. 

Grabbing his coat and keys, he made his way out of your apartment complex and started walking towards your best friend Minji’s house. It wasn’t too far from your shared place, and Seungkwan figured that would be the best place to start his search. 

While he walked he continued to try and call you in hopes that your phone would be on, or you unblocked him, he supposed, but each time it went straight to voicemail. As he rounded the corner to Minji’s complex, he saw a slumped-over figure sitting on the edge of a flower planter, and immediately he knew it was you.

You sat there, in the dark, slouched over with your elbows on your knees and your head in your hands. You were clearly shivering, having only been in your work clothes and light coat, only stockings covering your bare legs under your pencil skirt. Without hesitation Seungkwan ran over to you and crouched down so he was in your line of sight.

“Y/N?” His voice was so small and timid, so much unlike the tone he used with you on the phone earlier that it made you look up at him. His heart broke when he saw you were crying, probably had been crying his whole time and it truly made him hate himself in that moment. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, a light smile gracing his beautiful features when your eyes met his, “What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Seungkwan… why are you here?”

“I was worried about you. You didn’t come home…”

You scoffed and turned your head to look anywhere but at him. “You told me not to.” His heart sank to his feet at your words. Because yes, that is exactly what he told you earlier. 

“I am so sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what came over me, you know I can lose my temper sometimes, but… but that is no excuse!” He reached out and grabbed both your hands in his, wincing at how cold they were. “Baby, you’re going to get sick, please let me take you home?”

“Now you’re concerned? Earlier you didn’t want anything to do with me, but now you’re worried?” You scoffed again, pulling your hands from his grasp. 

“Sweetheart, please. You can yell and scream at me all you want when you’re home, and safe, and warm, okay?” Seungkwan looked up at you with pleading eyes and you finally, finally graced him with your gaze. It was hard, and sad, but at least you were looking at him. He tried his best for a smile again, but it came across more as a grimace as he watched your body shake from the cold. “Please, Y/N. I didn’t mean what I said earlier, it was said out of anger, but I’m not angry anymore. I’m worried about you. Please, let me take care of you and make up for my words.”

You looked at him now, really looked at him. His hair was mussed, his cheeks were red and puffy, and you could tell he hadn’t slept. “You haven’t slept?” You voiced your thoughts and he shook his head immediately. 

“We made a promise,” Seungkwan said softly, reaching for your hands again. This time you let him take them, “We never go to bed upset.”

The corner of your mouth quirked as you allowed your boyfriend to pull you up from the ledge you were sitting on, and wrapped his arms around you, pushing his face into your hair, kissing your ear before whispering, “I will never break that promise.”

Vernon

Vernon had been sulking all day, not just from his ruined lyrics, but from the way he had spoken to you this morning. Why did he have to take his anger out on you? It wasn’t even your fault, it was the cat’s fault, really. But getting mad at the cat wasn’t going to solve anything. No, if he wanted to fix this he needed to take responsibility for his actions.

He had left you alone all day, not wanting to bother you at work, but as soon as the clock reached 5:05 p.m., he called you, knowing you’d probably be on your way down from your office, heading to the bus stop. You picked up on the third ring.

“What do you want, Vern.” Your tone was sharp and he figured he definitely deserved it.

“Hey…” he started dumbly, “Can you - can you please come home?” His voice was tiny, so different from how it sounded earlier. It was like he was a pleading child asking for his mother to come home. It tugged at your heart strings hearing your usually confident boyfriend sound so small. 

“Are you sure?” You asked, voice still clipped. 

“Of course, Y/N. Actually, where are you? I’ll come get you.” Immediately Vernon was up and grabbing his keys and wallet. 

“I’m just outside work at the bus stop. You don’t-”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.” He didn’t give you a chance to finish your sentence, determined to make up for whatever he could. “Please, babe, let me do this.”

“Ok, Vernon.” You said as you hung up and waited at the bus stop for your boyfriend. He pulled up exactly 9 minutes later, having broken at least a few traffic laws to get to you. 

As soon as you got into the passenger seat of his car, he awkwardly leaned over the center console to wrap his arms around you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.” You reached up your hands to lay over his arms, not wanting to ignore the comfort he was offering, not when you needed it so bad. 

You both stayed like that for a moment before Vernon finally pulled away, only to see you trying your damndest to fight the tears that were threatening to fall. “Oh, baby.” He whispered, reaching out and wiping the tears from your cheeks as they started to fall, “Please don’t cry, I’m not worth your tears. I’m so fucking sorry, you have no idea.”

You nodded your head and bit your lip, but Vernon was having none of it as he gently pried your bottom lip from your teeth with his thumb. “Don’t let me off the hook, what I said was awful. I was awful.”

“I understand, Vern.” You whispered, tears still falling, as you reached out to grab his hand. “I’m sorry I left the water out, I-”

Vernon shook his head, eyes closing as he felt another punch of guilt to his gut at what you were about to say. “Nope. No, don’t apologize. Not your fault, not even a little.”

“But-”

“Nope. Let’s go home and I’m going to show you exactly how sorry I am, babe.” You looked at him as he slowly sat back comfortably in the driver’s seat, not letting go of your hand, and started to drive. “You aren’t allowed to lift a finger for the rest of the day. And I don’t want to hear any apologies from you. I’m the sorry one.”

Chan

Chan listened to your quiet sobs for what felt like hours but realistically had only been about 30 minutes. He never left his spot right outside your bedroom door, not even to grab ice for his steadily bruising cheek. He didn’t care about the pain, he deserved it and more for what he had said to you.

Chan would spend the rest of his life groveling and making up for those words if you’d let him. He knows how wrong they were, how awful they sounded coming from someone who is supposed to love and protect you. Protect you from shit like that, but instead, he’s the one spewing it. 

After another few minutes, Chan couldn’t take it anymore and crawled over the the door, rasping his knuckles on the wood frame a few times. “Y/N?” he asked over your sobs. You quieted for a moment, letting Chan know you heard him, at least. “Y/N, I am so fucking sorry.” Chan finally let his tears fall, full force, as he continued to apologize. “J-just, please, let me in so I can make sure you’re okay, p-please.” He begged, still lightly knocking his knuckles onto the door. 

It took a few moments of silence before he heard the lock click. Immediately he was scrambling to stand up and open the door. He was expecting you to be standing there waiting to possibly slap him again, but instead, he stumbled over your hunched form on the floor, right next to the door. Catching himself before he could face plant, he quickly crouched down so he was at eye level with you.

“Baby…” his voice was distraught at the sight of you hunched over and sobbing. Sobbing because of him, his words. It broke his heart all over again. “Will you p-please come sit with me?” He asked, holding his hand out in offer for you to take. You stared at it for a moment before giving in and settling your hand in his, allowing him to pull you to standing. 

You didn’t look him in the eye, instead looking down at the floor as he led you over to the edge of the mattress and sat down. He wanted to pull you into his lap, but decided against it, opting instead to keep holding you hand as he spoke. 

“Y/N, I don’t even know how to explain myself. I can’t explain myself. What I said was so fucked up, that I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me. I wouldn’t blame you if you slap me again and leave me forever.” He sounded so distraught that you finally looked up at him, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sight of his bruised face.

He looked at you surprised, only to realize you were tearing up again at the sight of his face. “No, no Y/N, you didn’t hurt me, I swear. I deserved this, in fact, I deserve more,” he pleaded with you, not wanting you to feel guilty for the slap. “I promise, baby, I’m fine.”

You weren’t sure you totally believed him, but you nodded anyway, not really knowing what to say. 

“Can I please, please hold you? I know I don’t have the right, but-”

Before Chan could finish his sentence you had your arms around his neck. You could tell he was truly sorry for what he said. That didn’t mean you were going to forgive him right away, or possibly at all, for the awful way he treated you. But right now you both needed a little comfort before you had a serious discussion. You weren’t going to deny yourself of that, so you sunk into his arms as they wrapped around you, burying your face in his neck. 

“I don’t want to say I forgive you, Chan because I don’t know if I do, but I’m not leaving. I love you, Chan, and I know you didn’t really mean it.”

“You don’t have to forgive me,” he mumbled into your hair, “But I’m going to keep apologizing for the rest of our lives if you let me.”

[f1goat]

more than friends + lando norris x part one

In which your best friend wants to help you so you get more sexual experience, but he discovers quickly that he never wants to share you and your new sexual experience with others.

masterlist - playlist

warnings: smut with a plot or a plot with smut? :) sexual content starting next chapter. minors dni! i never proofread so probably grammar or spelling errors

requested: yes, based on: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things (ofc pretending for it to bot mean anything), while he’s actually in love with her

Lando is holding you tightly when he helps you to get into your car. The two of you did talk about him picking you up tonight, but it’s not even near to the time you agreed on. It were your friends who texted him to come pick you up, since you’re drunk. When he arrived he was quick to find out how drunk you are. Lando lets you lose when you’re seated in his car, he puts the seatbelt around you and walks towards his own side. He’s quick to take his seat next to you and to start the car.

“Oh my god,” you slur, “did you already turn on the seat warming for me?”

Lando laughs about your enthusiasm. “Yeah I did,” he tells you.

“You’re the best friend ever,” you continue to slur drunkly. You make yourself comfortable on the car seat. Lando drives away. He can’t help himself and looks at you whenever he has the chance. He wonders why you’re this drunk. 

“Why did you drink so much?” He asks you after a bit of wondering. He can’t think about any reason himself. Normally you don’t like to drink too much. 

“They kept talking about their boyfriends,” you confess without even thinking about it. The alcohol has made your mind hazy. You don’t think things through right now. “And I felt single,” you continue to tell Lando, “and then I realized I’ll probably stay single forever.”

“Don’t say that,” Lando quickly states, “You’re a catch for every boy.”

“And if I ever find a boy who likes me,” you slur further, “he’ll probably lose all interest when he figures out that I have no sexual experience and don’t know what to do.”

Lando hits the brakes as hard as he can. Your confession made him almost ran through a red traffic light. He looks at you with a confused gaze. Of course he has been your friend forever but the two of you never talk about things like this. He knows you aren’t dating a lot and you’re certainly not sleeping around. But he did think you had lost your virginity once. Now that he thinks about it, he has no idea with who he thought that should be. 

And the most fucked up part is that it kinda turns him on to know that you’re a virgin. It makes him think about everything he could teach you and do with you if you were his. The thought of having you while no one else ever did makes him lose all his sane thoughts.

“See even you think it’s weird,” you exclaim annoyed, “just say so Lan. You’re my best friend, you can tell me that it’s weird. The girls also told me.”

“It’s not weird,” Lando is quick to say, “and if anything, I would say a lot of guys would like it.”

You let out a weird fake laugh. “Nice try Lando,” you say annoyed, “I should just find some random guy to take my virginity and teach me some things.”

“No!” Lando says quickly, “Don’t do that. Not with some random guy.”

“With who then Lan? Maybe I should text all my guy friends and ask them, that seems like a great idea,” you continue with the same annoyed tone.

“Just text me,” Lando says so soft he almost whispers it to you. 

You barely hear him. At first you thought your drunk mind made it up that he said that. But when you notice the way he looks at you, you start to believe that he actually said it.

“You would want that?” You ask him.

“Yes,” he confesses, “I can teach you a few things. If you want to.”

“Deal,” you quickly say.

“You can tell me if it’s a deal tomorrow, when you’re not drunk anymore babygirl.”

Babygirl. That’s new.

+++

The following day you wake up with a massive headache. Lando is still sleeping next to you. You wonder why you ended up in his bed instead of in the bed in the guest room where you normally sleep. Weird. You have almost no memories left from last night. When you turn around you notice that Lando is following your moves in his sleep. He presses himself against your body. Weird. You unlock your phone and read some of the messages from last night. Your friends send a couple messages last night in the group text.

Friend 1: did you get home?

Friend 2: ??? Answer y/n

Friend 1: nvm we texted Lando and he told us you got home safe with him

You let out a sigh and start to type a message.

Y/N: oops sorry girls, I’m with Lando & having a massive headache  rn :(

You open your socials and scroll for a bit while waiting until Lando wakes up. It doesn’t take long before he wakes up. You feel him moving next to you in the bed. Carefully you turn around to look if he’s really awake. You’re quickly greeted by his open eyes.

“Morning babygirl,” Lando says with a raspy morning voice. 

“Hi Lan,” you reply softly.

Since when does he call you babygirl? Your mind switches back to yesterday night and you remember him calling you that as well last night. Weird. You remember him something saying that you would have to agree as well when you’re not drunk anymore. About what was that? You try to remember, but your mind leaves you hanging. 

“How are you feeling?” Lando asks you.

“Terrible,” you sigh, “I barely remember anything and I have a massive headache.”

Lando lets out a frustrated sigh, he hoped that you’d remember the conversation from you two from last night. He wonders if he needs to start about the subject or let it be. 

“You drank a lot,” he says eventually, “Why did you even do that?” Of course he already knows the reason, but he wants to hear it again from you. He needs to know for sure that last night wasn’t a drunk lie from you. 

You think about the reasons why you drank that much. Slowly you feel your memories coming back to you. You remember feeling frustrated when you realized how single - and inexperienced - you’re in comparison with your friends. They talked about their boyfriends and their sex lives a lot, both subjects you couldn’t say anything. You remember drinking too much because you wanted to forget about your awful love life. Then you start to remember the car ride back with Lando.

“Fuck,” you mutter, “I already told you, didn’t I?”

Lando nods to confirm your thoughts. He waits for you to continue. You should remember the rest by now as well, right?

“Oh my god,” you suddenly exclaim, “did I really ask you to teach me those things? Fuck I’m sorry Lan, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Lando realizes that you don’t remember everything correctly. It went different. You were talking about different boys who could teach you those things, random guys even. He was the one who offered to do it himself. 

“It didn’t go like that babygirl,” he says slowly, “I offered.”

You start to remember the conversation in more details now. Lando is right. He did offer. You feel a blush creeping up on your cheeks. What do you need to tell him now? You think about everything that can go wrong when you’re getting involved with him like that. But you also can’t shake off the thoughts about doing those things with Lando. You have had a crush on him for a while, you can probably say that you’re in love with him. In love with your best friend like a real idiot. It wouldn’t be bad to explore everything with him, he’s the guy you trust most. But what if you can’t keep it casual like that? You already know you want more.

“I remember now,” you confess.

“And I’m still offering,” Lando continues, “I don’t even want to think about you doing those kind of things with a random guy.”

“But you do want to do those, uh those things with me?” You ask awkwardly.

“Yes,” Lando is quick to confirm, “It’s not like I’m the most experienced guy around, but I can teach you some things.”

“But what if that ruins our friendship?” You ask him afraid.

“It won’t,” Lando quickly states, “We have to set some boundaries. Like having a safe word for if you’re not comfortable with what I’m doing and about how we will keep it from ruining our friendship.”

The following conversation is a bit awkward, but it’s a good one. Lando tells you about his boundaries, he doesn’t want you to have sex with someone else in the mean time - but he does want to teach you everything he knows. Teach. It even sounds ridiculous when you think about it. But you can’t deny that you want it. Fuck, there’s nothing you want more on this moment.

“So what safe word will you chose?” Lando asks you. 

“How do you see this going?” You ask back, “Do I need to make you a list or something with everything I want? Do we need to plan this like teaching sessions?”

Lando softly laughs. He pulls your body closer towards himself. In only milliseconds he’s pressed up against you. You squirm under his touch. Lando lets out a groan. It’s insane what you’re already doing to him. Your innocence is turning him on so much. 

“If you want you can make a list,” he tells you with a smile, “and if you want we can plan your so called teaching sessions. Although, I suggest to let things happen a bit more naturally.”

“Naturally?” You ask him confused.

“Yes babygirl,” Lando replies, “Can you turn around and face me?”

You do what he asks you. You turn yourself around. Lando his face is only a couple inches away from you now. It takes you everything to stop yourself from going closer. He stares at you and you can’t stop staring back. Of course you already knew he’s beautiful, but now you’re seeing it from even closer.

“Can I touch you?” Lando asks you while he maintains eye contact with you. You can’t find the words to answer his question, even when you only want to say yes. So you show him a simple nod. 

“I need words baby,” he says, “I’ll only do things to you if I’m sure that it’s what you want.”

“Touch me,” you say with a soft voice. When Lando takes a couple more seconds you even add another word. “Please.” 

Fuck if he wasn’t turned on already this would be the moment for it. Lando can’t stop imagining you begging for him - for his touch, his cock and more. He shakes the thoughts off, maybe that’s something for later. If he’s lucky. 

He softly puts his hand on your cheek and brings your face even closer to his. Without giving it a second thought he presses his lips against yours. Softly he presses multiple kisses against your lips. You are quick to open your mouth a bit, hoping that he wants more. Just like you do at this moment. Lando grants your wish. He lets his tongue enter your mouth and starts to explore your mouth with his own. You feel your stomach tighten a bit. 

Why does it feel so good to kiss with your best friend?

Lando moves his hand to your body. He pulls you even closer towards himself. Then he starts to draw figures on your lower back with his fingers. You let your hands wander around his body as well. At first you’re focused on his hair, softly tugging on some of his curls. You love his curls. Lando moves his face back a bit, you directly miss the feeling of his lips on yours. 

“How does that feel?” He asks you. His hand is still placed on your lower back. You want it even lower. How would if feel if he would grab your ass? 

“Good,” you confess, “really good.”

Lando is hand is still on the same place. You almost feel yourself aching for more of his touch. Do you need to tell him? He is watching you in silence. It surprises you that you feel quite comfortable with him watching you like this. 

“You should take a shower,” Lando says eventually, “We’re going out for lunch with Max.”

You send him a surprised look. That was it? 

Lando laughs softly, “Patience babygirl, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

You almost tell Lando that you feel turned on, almost. This will be a long day. With a soft huff you get out of the bed and walk towards the bathroom. The cold air distracts you from your feelings, for a few seconds you forget about how turned on you are right now.

“Maybe you can add that to you list,” Lando jokes, “Shower sex. I have never done that either.”

Great. Now you can’t even shower anymore without thinking about Lando taking you underneath the water. This will ruin a lot of things, but strangely you aren’t that afraid for it to ruin things between Lando and you. 

“I thought I didn’t need to make a list,” you tell him.

“Maybe you should,” Lando replies, “I think I’d like a list after all. What if I forget something eh?”

You show him a small smile before disappearing in the bathroom. Lando sighs when you close the door. It took him a lot of good will to stop things instead of going further with you. It has been a while since he has been this hard. He can’t even remember the last time he was this turned on now that he thinks of it. It probably was last summer when you wore that tight bikini.

part two

[mcondance]

come close; hobie brown

getting high and talking about anarchy with some old 90's shit playing is a crazy way to fall for someone. but it happens.

pairing hobie brown x Black!afab!fem! reader

contents lots of weed, different terms for weed (mary jane, cess), talks of killing politicians (y’all r both anarchists so.), masturbation (both you and hobie), making out, fingering, riding, missionary, mating press, creampie, unprotected sex (they're horny man dwbi), dirty talk, cervix kissing, lotsssss of praise, porn with plot (sorry i love plot 🙏🏾)

words 4.7k.. back on my longer fic shit!

warnings reader wears lipgloss, barely proofread so if you see any mistakes pls shoot me an ask!, umm i use the n word once!, i’m also,, not that great at writing his voice yet so.. hope it’s at least sorta accurate :3

extras the form i wrote this in is kinda,, unique igs but it flows rlly well i feel.

song shoutouts special thanks to lipstick lover by janelle monae, come close by common and mary j. blige, and green eyes by erykah badu!

signing off happy father’s day to hobie 🫶🏾

—

not quite plug!hobie, but hobie who always has weed, who you smoke with the first time you buy from him.

you usually don’t smoke with randoms, but you hear some old 90's rap playing from inside his car, and he invites you in when you comment on it.

"what you know bout this?" you ask with a smile.

"a lot, actually. you wanna smoke and listen?"

not quite plug!hobie who's fine as fuck as he sits opposite you in his ride, tall and darkskin with cool ass hair. wild ass accent and even wilder style, but he makes it work. his music taste adds on to his overall allure.

but his political views? god. the charm in the shape of a little 'a' surrounded by a circle hanging from his mirror lets you know that he ain't like these other niggas.

he's an anarchist. so far, you're the only anarchist you know. it's so rare to find someone who has the same values as you.

not quite plug!hobie who's car you leave with music recs clumsily typed into your notes, and someone to talk about politics with, though you're too shy to text the pretty boy with the good weed, so you're sure it'll never happen.

not quite plug!hobie who texts you when you get home to make sure you arrived safely.

"driving while high ain't safe, ya know? you at home?"

"i've done it before. i made it home."

not quite plug!hobie who's so nice to you, complimenting your outfits and hair, even noticing when you meet him the 3rd time with a new style.

not quite plug! hobie who you find out has been giving you discounts when your friends ask if you ever bought from him after their recommendation, and you run them in on the details. you think it’s just cause y’all smoked the first time you ever bought from him and you bonded over political views and music. you don’t think nothing else of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you find yourself thinking about more and more often, ever since that first time y'all smoked together.

not quite plug!hobie who finds himself in the same predicament.

not quite plug!hobie who answers the door on your 6th buy in a pair of red sweats and a tight white t-shirt that hugs his lanky frame, hair tied up with a blue shoe string. he invites you into his crib, citing reasons of having no one else to talk to about his views with. after all, it's the first time you both have time to sit and talk and listen to music instead of a quick deal since that first time.

not quite plug!hobie who you get faded as fuck with, this time sharing a joint on his janky couch, heavy hands brushing against each other with each pass. he tries to ignore the aching in his very core every time you speak your mind, your aligning politics driving him crazy.

you mirror him, shaking off the.. arousal?.. no, it can't be. you can't be getting all heated just cause a man is an anarchist. whatever. just ignore it.

not quite plug!hobie who laughs when you tell him straight up, “people aren’t killing politicians anymore. that’s our fuckin’ problem.”

"really? you're wild. but i get it."

"course you do." you nod, taking another drag of the joint. erykah badu's "green eyes" is playing quietly in the background of your convo. hobie starts laughing.

"what?" you smile.

"song's called green eyes, right? well we got red eyes." it's corny and wouldn't be funny if you two weren't high as shit, but you are high as shit, so it's fucking hilarious.

not quite plug!hobie who's eyes linger on you as he pulls laugh after laugh out of your chest with his snarky little jokes.

not quite plug!hobie who walks you to your car after your smoke session, telling you to get home safely. he passes out after his head hits the bed, that after smoke sleep being some of the best he's ever had. he tries to chase you out of his mind as he succumbs to the cess.

not quite plug!hobie who lights a joint and then pulls his dick out the next day, hard and heavy, and strokes it thinking about his pretty little client— friend? whatever — hips stuttering as he wraps his hand around his thick base. he's tried to shake you off, went all day distracting himself with this and that, but it's not working.

not quite plug!hobie who cums in white spurts splattering on his chest to the thought of making you cum in a room filled with smoke, some old r&b playin as he dicks you down the way he's been wanting to since the first time your pretty ass came to him asking for some weed. he wants you bent over on the end of his bed, eyes low and red while he fills you up and fucks you good, gives you his dick like he feels you so rightfully deserve.

not quite plug!hobie who you seriously can't stop thinking of. last night's smoke session has you on edge, so you light another joint, but weed always gets you horny, so when you slip your fingers into your panties and touch yourself to the thought of the pretty darkskin boy with the piercings and cool hair pushing his fat cock into your pretty hole, you blame it on the mary jane sitting pretty in your veins.

the fault lies in the mary jane for making you think about him laid on top of you, talking you through it as he damn near kisses your cervix, his wiry hands roaming your body. the fault lies in the mary jane for having your legs shaking, imagining your pretty plug folding you in half and ruining you, leaving you and your cunt sore and satisfied and dripping his cum.

not quite plug!hobie who cleans up while telling himself that he can't do this again, that you're not interested in him.

not quite plug!hobie who you block out of your mind as you shower. what you did wasn't right. it won't happen again.

not quite plug!hobie who you don’t buy from for a minute, cause you’re trying to stop smoking so much, for a while. you still keep in contact with him, though. daily texts, funny memes, and of course talks of anarchy. one day, you call him “bee” instead of hobie, and it sticks. he likes it.

not quite plug!hobie… who you fuck yourself to again, this time slipping three fingers inside your greedy cunt to satiate the need for him. it’s almost every night, and it’s a different fantasy every time. 

in the backseat of his car, bent over on his counter, pressed into his couch cushions. your head pressing into your pillows while visions of hobie’s lips pressed to your ear praising you endlessly for being his good girl and taking him so well torment you. you’re insatiable, but when you text you have to pretend like you don’t want his piercing scraping against your clit as he eats you like a man starved.

not quite plug!hobie who has the same dilemma as you.. he can’t even go a couple of hours without growing hard in his sweats, glimpses of you spread out on his bed with your thighs thrown over his shoulders, or you face down ass up, sobbing in pure ecstasy. it’s not made better by y’all’s constant texting, more and more of your personality being revealed to him each day.

you both share one brain, really. and that one brain finds each other attractive, of course, but it’s not just that. it’s not just pure lust. you two have more in common than anyone you’ve ever met, and that sinks ache and want so deep into you that every night and day is spent trying to rid yourselves of it.

not quite plug!hobie who you buy from again almost two weeks later, two weeks that were filled with funny conversations and deep discussions of politics through text. two weeks that solidify the growing feelings you have for each other. this time, he’s wearing a pair of blue sweats and a tight black tee, and his hair is tied up just like the first time you came to his house. this time, brandy’s playing throughout his crib.

you’ve only known each other for about two months, but it feels like longer, for the both of you. you take your seat on the couch as he grabs his stash and his papers, pulling out one paper to roll up.

not quite plug!hobie who sits a little bit closer than he did last time. he smells good. your head is swimming already. 

not quite plug!hobie who lights up and then lets you take the first hit, watching you wrap your glossy lips around the joint like he doesn’t wish they were wrapped around his dick instead. you pass the joint to him and settle onto the couch, raking your eyes over his lanky frame, and what you swear is a hard-on. no way. it has to be the weed. 

he settles back onto the couch too, extending his long arms on the back. his arm comes up behind your head, and you rest your head on it, smiling dopily when he directs his hazy gaze your way. his playlist must have ended. you're left with him and your thoughts.

“you’re funny, you know?” he says through a breath of smoke, passing the joint to you.

“yeah?” you reply, hitting it again. “everyone tells me i’m just corny.”

“you’re not corny. you’re pretty hilarious, if i’m bein’ honest.” 

and there it is again.

not quite plug!hobie whose words light that fire in you again, the fire that you’ve been dousing every night for the past two fucking weeks. fuck, not here. not now. you grab the joint from him in an attempt to push more weed into your system to flush him out, but you meet his pretty fuckin’ brown eyes and they’re low and his lips looks so good and he smells so good and suddenly you’re asking not quite plug who you’re two seconds away from fucking!hobie why he’s been charging you less than everyone else who buys from him and why he invited you into his car and into his house, twice.

and not quite plug who really wants to kiss you right now!hobie can’t even joke and twist his way out of this one. he’s tired of cumming alone to the thought of you. the worst you can do is leave. but the best? god, so many things.

“'s cause i think you’re pretty. n' i really wanna kiss you right now.”

“then do it.”

not quite plug!hobie who tastes like weed and chocolate. the hand that was resting on the back of the couch finds it’s way to the small of your back, fingers drawing nonsensical shapes into it. your hands find his knee and his neck as you press your lips into his. you slide closer to him, and then he’s using the hand resting on your back to push you into his lap, hands settling on your hips as you settle above him, your hands circling around his neck.

“how long?” you ask between kisses.

“since the day you walked up to my car.” he responds quietly, cheeks heating up with embarrassment. he’s quick to trap your lips again.

god, he is hard. and he’s big, you can feel him pressing against the inside of your thigh. you hold your tongue, figuring you could deal with that later. right now, you just need to get out what you’ve been keeping in since the day you two met and you spotted the little ‘a’ hanging from his mirror.

the kiss grows deeper and he grows a little less shy, starting to use his hands gripping your waist to grind you against him. heat floods you when you realize that he's pulling you onto his cock, pressing your cunt against him, separated by the fabric of his sweats and your shorts.

you find his rhythm, falling into the pattern of his soft pushes and presses, a gentle lull of bodies moving against each other that makes you even more comfortable than you already are. soft little groans escaping the both of you, mixing with the smoke and infatuation in the air.

he lets you move the way you want, lithe fingers tracing up your back, hovering over where your hair falls onto your neck. he keeps kissing you for a minute, seemingly frozen. but then he's pulling away to speak, "can i- can i touch your hair?"

you stop moving with a smile. you nod. "yeah. thanks for asking." you kiss him again.

"course, love." he nods, and then he kisses you again. his long fingers snake into your hair, gently and softly. he strokes his hands through your locks, in time with your kisses and the movements of your hips that have started again. hands migrating from his neck, sliding down his chest, laying flat-palmed. your fingers slide under his tee, curling and gripping to pull him ever closer to you.

not quite plug!hobie who could kiss you forever. you could too, but you want more. you need him. so you pull away just a little, murmur "can feel you against me." chills rack through him at your words.

"i know. 'm so hard, darlin'." he pushes his hips up just a little, drawing a muffled whine from you.

"been wantin' you so bad.." you trail off. hobie takes it upon himself to move his hands from your hair to the waistband of your shorts, eyes fixed on yours, watching your every move. you nod, giving him permission to snake his fingers into your shorts, fingers that are met with no resistance.

"no panties? did'ya plan this, doll?" he smiles, slim fingers exploring your wetness, doing what he can with the limited space.

"mhm." you shake your head. "'s more comfortable." he hums in agreement. he circles your clit with his middle finger, dipping towards your entrance to collect more slick. you push down against his fingers, causing him to have to crane his wrist to reach you.

"can we take these off? can't touch you the way i wanna." you blush, averting your eyes to focus on the hand that disappears into your shorts.

"yeah." you breathe shakily, standing up and letting hobie pull them down your legs, hands on his shoulders as balance. your shirt is long, and it falls down to give you some modesty. hobie throws your shorts somewhere behind you before he leans back, giving you space to sit back down.

he looks so fucking good, brown eyes staring at you like you hung the stars in the sky. he reaches out for you, pulling you back into his lap by your hips. his hand disappears under your shirt while his lips find yours again, exploring you more freely this time.

"so wet, doll." he murmurs between one kiss and another, smiling when you whine. his fingers move at different speeds, pressing in different areas and circling at different speeds until he finds a combination that makes you jolt against him, whining "bee."

"thaaaaat's it, love." this time, you don't return your lips to his, instead tucking your head into his neck as you hump shamelessly against his hand, his cock pressing hard and heavy against your thigh. "keep going, baby," he urges, "show me how it feels."

and you do. you shiver and shake and whine and groan in pleasure, pressing kisses in his brown skin as he touches you the way he touched himself thinking about.

not quite plug!hobie who presses his thumb into your clit, sliding his hand farther down to tease your drooling hole. "'s wet, love. g'na feel so good 'round me." you moan loudly at that, at the thought of your fantasies coming true. you cant your hips down, sliding down his fingers until they're seated inside you, stroking gently at your sensitive walls.

pulling them out softly, he curls his fingers, twisting his wrist as you whine and mouth at his neck. "'s okay. you can bite." he nods, catching onto what you were holding yourself back from. you still don't, resign to licking and sucking instead.

until his fingers catch the spongy spot inside you, and your teeth are sinking into the column. "fuck," you damn near shout, pushing yourself onto his hand. he groans in response, pleased to be pleasing you and indulging in the pain you inflict on him. thumb on your clit and fingers playing with that spot, he brings his other hand from your hip to your hair to soothe you, to ground you.

it's sweet, really, his hand in your hair while the other one touches you the way you've been dreaming of. coos and hums meet your ears, soft sounds of affirmation egging you on to let yourself get lost in the pleasure he delivers you. arousal steadily dripping out of your hole, hobie's fingers sliding easier and easier inside you until he can pull out and slip right back in.

"you're so pretty, dove, fuckin' dreamgirl." he murmurs, staring down at your pretty face, arched eyebrows turned down in ecstasy, lips parted. the praise takes you closer and closer to the edge, his deep voice reverberating throughout your entire being, the pangs of arousal in your clit growing harder and faster. you're close.

you're so goddamn close to cumming for a boy you just wanted to buy from. his long fingers reach deep, deeper than you could ever even dream of. “hobie- i- i’m g’na-” you stutter against his neck, hips stuttering against his fingers.

“‘s okay, love, cum. i’m right here.” the rubber band snaps, and you're tightening your thighs around his hand while you shake and shiver, eyes closed tight with soft whines of "hobie, god it feels so good" tumbling from your lips. you tighten around his fingers, too, squeeze him so tight he winces, cause he just knows you're gonna feel so good wrapped around him. he pushes that thought away, though, focused on helping you ride out your orgasm.

fingers pressing into your clit and that spot inside you, he makes sure to milk every last second of your climax, eyes fixed on your ethereal features. aftershocks still racking through you, you finally open your eyes, and he takes it as a sign to gently pull his fingers out of you and wipe them on his sweats, and you shudder at the feeling.

"that was. . so much better than i imagined. n' i imagined it being pretty good." you smile and giggle, placing a kiss on his neck. he laughs in response, raising his eyebrows at your confession.

"bet i'm a better fuck than you imagined, too." the air in the room shifts again, and suddenly you're aware of his cock pressed against your thigh through his sweats again.

"bet you are."

you raise up, kissing him again as your hands find the waistband of his sweats and invite themselves in, meeting his dick that's been hard since you first sat down on his couch. "and i'm the one who planned this? you're free-balling." you murmur against his lips, and he mirrors your words from earlier.

"'s more comfortable, 's all— fuck." he's cut off when you pull his cock out of his sweats and run your finger over his pretty brown tip, dipping into his slit. his hips thrust up, chasing your soft hand. "g'na drive me crazy." he almost whines, jerking against you when you swipe your thumb against his aching tip again.

"just returnin' the favor." you shoot back, raising up to hover over him, swiping his leaking dick through your wetness. he wraps his hand around his thick base, moving in time with your teasing strokes. "you're big." you groan, hesitating to seat yourself on him.

"i know, doll, you can take it though. we'll make you take it." he speaks into your clothed chest, muffled and horny, and you’re sure he means what he says. you drip even more at his words, sticky slick wetting his fat tip.

not quite plug!hobie whose hands are on your hips as you sink down onto his pretty dick, whining into his neck as he encourages you. “you got it, baby, you’re takin’ me so well. god, she’s so wet.”

"she— fuck that's so hot," you moan, eyes rolling back at his words.

"mhm?" he hums.

you don't respond, too busy focusing on his fat cock pushing into you, focusing on the way you both make it fit, exactly like he said you would. finally, he bottoms out, your thighs resting against his sweats.

"g' job, babe. knew you could take me." you jolt against him, his heady words sending another pang of arousal straight to where you two meet.

not quite!plug hobie who you tell to move, raising your hips up as he pulls out, meeting him in the middle as he fills you back up. his hips slot against yours again, and his big chocolate eyes are fixed on yours, gazing upon you in adoration, while your eyes are fixed on where he disappears into you.

"so big, feels s'good. ." you whisper, meeting his gaze. the look in his eyes has chills running down your spine as you raise your hips again, choosing to connect your lips with his again. hobie starts to find a rhythm, now, wrapping his long arms around your waist. you swap spit with him as his hips meet your ass, taking over.

body bouncing with each of his thrusts into your pussy, arms wrapped around his neck. his lips slipping against yours, plump and wet. you both take it slow, basking in the feeling of finally being like this with someone you've wanted since you first saw them.

he fills you up so nicely, thick cock nestled in your achy walls, leaking tip just barely kissing your cervix as he thrusts just a bit harder and you push down a little more.

"y'feel me, darlin? 'm all the way in, at the end of you, god, 'm g'na make you mine." he babbles in pleasure, pushing his hips up even harder. still soft, but firm, and deliberate.

you nod against his lips, hand resting on his cheek. "feel you, bee, feel you in my fuckin' stomach, i swear." you feed off of him and he feeds off of you, kissing and slapping your hips against the others, wild and wanting. "fuckin' me so good, bee, makin' me yours."

"makin' me yours, doll, pussy's squeezin' me like she don't w'na let go."

"don't wanna let go, wan' you so bad." you confess, bringing your ass down onto his cock again. "i— fuck," you sob. his cock curves just right, and with his tip pressing against your spot now, hobie's found new determination.

"that it?" he asks, making sure to keep hitting that spongy patch of skin with every thrust, sheathing his cock in your wet heat.

"'s it, hobie, feels so good, shit." the high has worn off by now, leaving pure emotions and desire driving you two. you get tight around him again, cunt pulsing with every slam of his hips against yours. you feel so good around him, so tight and wet.

"'m g'na—, you're gonna make me cum, bee."

he moves one hand from around your waist at that, sliding between you two to toy with your clit, thumb rubbing wild shapes against the throbbing bud.

"fuck," you cry, grinding against his thumb and down onto his dick.

"you close again, doll? wan' you to wet me up, ma'me a mess," he encourages, big brown eyes fixed on yours like they've been the whole night.

"'m so close, bee, wanna cum for you, wanna wet you up."

"then do it." he mirrors your words from earlier, and the pleasure pulsing through your veins and infatuation swirling around in your blood gets to be too much, and you cum on his cock, still slamming your hips down onto him, meeting his thrusts in the middle. "thaaaat's it, doll." you hear hobie praise through the fog in your mind, bounces turned to messy grinds as you get all tight around him, cumming hard.

"y'alright, love?" he asks, moving your hair out of your face.

"mhm. w'na go again, you haven't come yet." he chuckles at your words, wrapping both hands around your waist and kissing you again.

"lay back, love." he murmurs against your lips, flipping you onto the couch. your back meets the smooth fabric as he lays you down, pulling his tee and his sweats off. you follow suit, stripping your shirt off and throwing it somewhere behind his couch. his watchful eyes fall on your face, then your tits, then your cunt, taking your body in for the first time.

he finds his place on top of you, balancing himself on his elbows as he kisses you again. he reaches down, but you stop him. "lemme do it," you urge, replacing his hand. you line him up with your sopping entrance, nodding twice to tell him to push in.

the stretch is so fucking good, his cock bullying it's way into your tight cunt again.

"fuck, that's it," he curses, watching your face as he seats himself in your once again.

"so deep. ." you trail off, looking down at your stomach, and oh fuck, no way.

"hobie, hobes, look," you urge, and he points his gaze to where you're looking.

"oh, love, look at that. can see myself, right there," he presses down on the bulge he creates, ripping a broken moan straight from your throat.

"fuck me, please," you sob, squirming under him. he nods, understanding, and finds his rhythm easier this time, lean hips slapping against you. your body jolts up the couch with every thrust, choppy whines of nonsensical sentences leaving your mouth.

not quite plug who's absolutely pussydrunk!hobie can't get enough of your cunt, the way you squeeze him oh so tight, the wet squelches of your heat drawing him further into madness. he needs to go deeper, needs to fuck you harder, so he raises up, throwing your legs over his shoulders, leaning back down to bury his cock deep inside you.

"baby, fuck." it's a gritted groan, head rolling back onto the couch as he mouths at your neck, licking and biting at your heated skin. his thrusts are slow and firm, dick kissing your cervix, the slaps sounding out through his living room.

you're both quiet this time around, too blissed out to do anything but fuck, allowing yourselves to succumb to pleasure. every inch of his cock fills you, driving you crazy, driving him crazy too. it's intimate, his lips on your neck, your fingers palming at his back, limbs tangled together. and you can feel it building up in you again.

"'m g'na cum, hobes." he moves one of his arms, bringing his thumb down to rub at your clit, still mouthing at your neck. he lets it happen this time, doesn't urge you or change anything he's doing, and you coast into your climax so gratifyingly that you almost cry, squeezing him tight once again. now, your focus is on making him cum.

"wan' you to cum, hobes."

"gotta pull out, love. we ain' even put a rubber on." he realizes.

"no you don't. 'm clean. jus' fill me up, please." in your right mind, you wouldn't let him, but you're not in your right mind, and neither is he. so he cums with a groan, shaking as he spills pressed against your cervix.

the air's.. different now, satisfied and calm. you both lay there for a while, until hobie's picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom to clean you up.

after, he lights another joint that you two share tucked under his covers, hugged up like a couple.

not quite plug!hobie holds you as you both fall asleep.

[squinch-depraved]

CAN U DO COOL SEXY HOT READER TAKES SCHLATTS VIRGINITY?! but aged down like they’re both in college together

this one had me giggling and kicking my feet when i received it

reader and schlatt are both 20 (my age :3) (ok so i have/will never go to college so i hope this makes sense also lc!schlatt because he will not leave my brain)

CW: breeding kink if u squint, does this count as corruption kink? idk

you had a few classes together, ended up being partners for a project

actually got along surprisingly well

hung out a few times a week for a month or two

and then it was more frequent

almost every day this dude would just show up at your apartment; you have no idea how he came to know your schedule

if it wasn't him you'd be scared

and like, it's not because he doesn't look scary- he does, he's tall as fuck and has this serial killer stare

but you're not afraid of him because every time he's around you he acts like a complete loser

he stares at you when he thinks you aren't looking, a look of obsession in his eyes

the focus he has on your reflection as you put on lip gloss in the mirror is unmatched in any of his classes

you were supposed to be going to a party together, evident by your outfit that he can't decide if he likes or not- it shows a lot of skin, and while that'd be fine if it was just you two, there's bound to be lots of other guys eyeing you up all night

and he just can't stand the thought of that!

so what is he to do but fake receiving a text saying some faculty were crashing the event and it would be best to stay home?

and you were astounded at this boy's nerve, you got this dressed up? you looked this good? and he pretends the function's cancelled?

but you go along with it, pretending to be bummed out, playing his little game with him

"damn. was really hoping to get some dick tonight," you sigh

his brain kinda short circuits

and he mumbles something

hook, line, and

"what? sorry, i couldn't hear you, the music's loud," you tilt your head, turning down the volume

"i said i'm right here."

sinker :)

you snort derisively at him

"what makes you think i want you?"

you two had talked a lot in the months you had known each other, and sex came up a few times

you knew (before even talking to him) that he was a virgin

and he knew (before even talking to you) that you were a slut

but god, he needed you the second he saw you- needed you to be his first. his only.

so he swallows his pride and looks up at you from his spot on your floor with the most pitiful eyes

"i don't think you want me. i think i want you and you need a service for the night."

"a service?? jesus, schlatt, don't kid yourself. you wouldn't be doing shit, i'd be the one doing all the work because you have no clue what you're doing."

"then teach me," he begs. his voice is like you've never heard it before, whiny and breathy

and you roll your eyes before giving in, reaching a hand down to help him up

you guide him to lay down on your bed and he just sits there all tense, unable to relax because he's so nervous

until you tell him to take his pants off

and he's tearing them over his thighs, and they're down on the floor

and the tent in his boxers?

jesus christ

you figured he would be on the bigger side, but he looked massive, and you couldn't even clearly see his length yet

you sit there for a bit, taking in the sight of him splayed out amongst your stuffed animals

only hot bitches have stuffies on their beds, btw

and his face is sooo red, his breathing is uneven, his eyes are running all over your body

"have you like... ever been touched?" you ask him, unsure of how gentle you need to be

but gentle is not what he wants, not at all

"yeah. just... not all the way."

he can't meet your eyes now

so you smirk and climb over to him, hopping on top of him and savoring the whimper he lets out when you sit down on his clothed bulge

"and you want me to be your first time going all the way?"

you use one finger to tilt his chin to look at you

and he just melts

nodding while he stares into your eyes with pure adoration

the eye contact is intense, you find it hard to tear your gaze from his

but eventually you lean in and kiss him, taking his head in your hands

schlatt moans into your mouth when you slide your tongue in, giving in completely and letting you explore his mouth

and when you bite his bottom lip slightly when you pull away?

he moans sooo sluttily

you're grinding down onto his lap at this point, enjoying the constant noises the friction pulls from his lips

he's fucking mortified but he has to grab your hips super tightly and try to get you to stop

because if you keep going like this, he's gonna finish in his boxers and he thinks he would have to leave and never see you again if that happened

so you take pity on him, stopping your movements to press kisses to his neck

which he finds out he also loves

"is it okay if i leave marks?" you whisper in his ear

and his dick throbs so hard

"please," he responds in a quiet voice, staring at the ceiling while he pictures his friends seeing the evidence of him fucking the hottest person on campus

you oblige wayyy too eagerly, biting down hard and sucking deep purple marks all over his exposed neck

only pulling away when he was littered with dark bruises and teeth marks

the whole time he was letting out the cutest noises, gasping and groaning and sputtering how good you felt

silly boy, he has no idea what he's in for

once you're done having fun marking your territory, you scoot back and peel his boxers off

and you try not to react, but your eyes widen at the sight of his cock springing up and smacking his abdomen

he takes in your hungry expression and mistakes it for something negative

"what? wha's wrong?"

he sounds so scared

it takes you a few gruelling seconds before you shake your head and respond

"nothing, just. holy shit," you mumble

"what???" schlatt asks, sitting up slightly

"you're fucking huge, dude!! that's all, jesus... i just needed a second to process, sorry."

ego boosted

you will never hear the end of that

but anyways

he stutters, unable to finish whatever he was saying when you take him in your hand and stroke him gently

your eyes are trained on his groin, his on your face while you greedily watch as you play with him

he's so fucking loud

bucking his hips up into your hand

you're barely doing anything, he's that desperate for your touch

when you take his tip in your mouth, he lets out a strained gasp and tries to cover his mouth with his hand

you laugh mockingly and pull it from his face

"i wanna hear you!! this isn't as fun if i don't get to hear those pathetic noises you keep making," you tease

he just groans, eyes fluttering, and tilts his head back, giving in to how good you're making him feel

you smile at him and take as much of him into your mouth as you can, plunging him deep into your throat and making sloppy noises as you suck on him

he sounds like a fucking WHORE, whining and fucking up into your face

you let him have his fun, but pull off when he starts breathing a lot faster

he opens his eyes in surprise and cries out at the loss of contact, chest heaving

"why the fuck would you stop???"

he's so desperate, it's adorable

"can't have you cumming down my throat, then i can't ride you, can i?"

you raise one brow as you ask him, and he reaches his hand to hold yours subconsciously

a glance at his large fingers intertwining with yours stirs something in your stomach and you realize for the first time that you're really enjoying this

"please..." he trails off, unsure of what he's asking for

you watch his face for a moment, inspecting his needy expression, and decide to take pity on him

he watches you so intensely as you take off your jean shorts

and nearly creams himself when you just rip a hole in your fishnets instead of properly taking them off

and the seconds are dragging by so slowly as you position yourself on top of him

until you meet his eyes, asking for permission, and he nods vigorously

and you just sink down onto him, plunging his entire length between your velvet walls

schlatt's eyes glaze over as he stares up at you; he's never felt anything so good

you give him a few minutes to take in how soft you are on the inside before starting to move your hips

he groans with every bounce, so loud that you make a mental note to apologize to your roommate later in case they're home and hearing this

"you can touch me, y'know? you don't gotta just lay there and take it," you pant as you work masterfully on top of him

a more passionate grunt than usual leaves his lips and he immediately snakes his hands up to rest on your ass, squeezing and kneading it like he's holding on for dear life

and, maybe he feels like he is. you're riding him so fucking well that he swears he's dreaming, and his grip on your behind may well be the only thing keeping him grounded

it doesn't take long before he tells you what you had expected, but what he adds at the end throws you for a loop

"i'm gonna cum, but please, please don't stop. just keep going, i can go a few more rounds. please, y/n, i'm begging you," he stutters out

you clench around him and he yells, nails leaving deep angry crescent marks in the flesh of your rear end as he paints your insides white

about a minute later, he catches his breath somewhat and asks, "can i fuck you now?"

he sounds so sweet

like he really wants to make you feel good

so you let him try, positioning yourself on your hands and knees in front of him so that he can hit from behind

takes him a second to get the position right but he slides right in and starts going at you hard

you can't help the moans that slip out, and every noise you make spurs him on to keep going harder, faster, deeper

he's trying so hard to make you cum, you can tell, but he's so inexperienced that he finishes in you again before he can get you anywhere close

so when he lets out a frustrated, "fuck!" you reach behind you to grab his hand and bring it around to your front, lining his fingers up with your clit

"feel that? that's what you're looking for," you pant, pushing your ass as flush against him as you could. "play with it, see if you can figure it out on your own, and it's okay if you can't, i'm here to teach you."

he lets out a deep breath and starts thrusting again, rubbing circles into your sensitive nub

you continue to let out noises so he knows what works for you and what doesn't, and you've gotta hand it to him, he's a really fast learner

because it takes like five minutes before him slamming into you combined with the pattern of figure-eights he settled on tracing on your clit makes you cum

you get unbelievably tight around him as you climax, and the sound of you screaming his name makes his eyes roll back into his head while he spills in you one final time

you collapse when he pulls out, instructing him to help you to the bathroom

gotta teach him the importance of aftercare, right?

so he picks you up and carries you to the toilet, setting you down gently on your feet before stepping out and closing the door behind him to give you your privacy

best believe he stays right outside the door, though

he's not going anywhere for a long time. you're his now

[the-roo-too]

messy -> best friend! kang haerin

-“don’t ruin this for yourself.” as if she could do so more than she already did. what would happen to her friendship? what about her members? what about the group’s future? “play the part, date for a month. go on three dates and wait until they have a comeback. you can break up after that.”

warnings: haerin briefly has a boyfriend; foul language

genre: crack; friends to lovers

notes: i kinda yolo’d this, not proofread

*ೃ༄

haerin’s date didn’t exactly go as planned. her now ex-partner dropped her off at her dorms after the short outing, making the atmosphere even more awkward.

“so…” he made a finger gun gesture at her and smiled softly. “we’ll still keep in touch?”

haerin almost felt bad then. she was, after all, the one who broke things off. keeping in touch with your ex could go many ways, especially in this industry. “we’ll see. i told you, i think im gonna have to focus more on being an idol, kim…”

before the boy could say another word, she slammed the doors in his face. was it a nice thing to do? nope. but she was tired, with the comeback still fresh she couldn’t see herself being in a legitimate relationship.

“kim? is that your boyfriend’s last name?” haerin jumped upon hearing hanni’s voice. she swiftly swept past the older girl, hoping to close the conversation quickly.

“no, he’s not.”

“sure he isn’t.”

the older girl clearly missed the way haerin stormed off grumpily, consumed with the thought of catching her bandmate and her partner. if only she knew.

that night haerin texted her best friend—kim y/n. another idol, a member of young posse. the two used to be trainees together back in the day, before y/n decided her luck at a different company, and debuted soon after.

her phone set to the lowest brightness, it was still almost blinding.

haerinnie

u up?

y/n 🩷

yesssss

y/n 🩷

shouldn’t you be asleep tho?

y/n 🩷

i talked with yoona unnie the other day and she said you guys would be appearing on music bank

haerinnie

i know

haerin hesitated a little. not even her best friend knew of her (now ex) boyfriend. their relationship was extremely short—maybe two months? only her manager knew of him, as she had to mention going out and meeting ‚a kim’. fortunately there’s a lot of kim’s in the industry.

haerinnie

i guess i just wanted to talk with my best friend

y/n 🩷

omg

y/n 🩷

are you admitting in your best friend

haerinnie

no

haerinnie

im informing you

y/n 🩷

i’m honoured

haerinnie

you should be

y/n 🩷

that’s the main reason you texted me?

haerinnie

wanna hang this week?

y/n 🩷

omg yes

y/n 🩷

we’ll get over the details in the morning now go eep

y/n 🩷

ily

haerinnie

ilyt

*ೃ༄

a couple days pass after the breakup. haerin met with you two days after that, just a cutesy hang out in a cafe. now, haerin woke up to minji shaking her shoulders in disbelief.

“it was a girl?!”

the younger newjeans member rubbed her eyes in confusion. “wha… girl?”

“the kim!”

“what kim?”

at that moment, hanni ran into the room the younger shared with their ‘leader’. “why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t a boyfriend!”

haerin sat up slowly, glancing at her both members like they grew a second head. “what.”

“the guy? girl! a couple days ago your girlfriend dropped you of! i think?” hanni was definitely being delusional. maybe this was all a dream?

“what is happening…?” she asked in a small voice, looking lost in the whole situation. minji pulled out her phone, opening x and her private account. she pulled up a post and haerin’s eyes widened.

KANG HAERIN AND KIM Y/N SPOTTED ON A RUMOURED DATE.

there was a whole article, but the most important part were the pictures someone took of you two on that outing. she couldn’t believe her eyes.

that wasn’t the end of it though.

ADOR CONFIRMS THE DATING RUMOURS BETWEEN NEWJEAN’S HAERIN AND YOUNG POSSE’S Y/N.

haerin’s soul left her body. she must’ve been dreaming. how does one wake up to their company confirming an untrue rumour?

“manager-nim wants you to go with him to the company. you’re gonna have a meeting there, but we expect an explanation too.” minji snapped her out of her head, gesturing to her and hanni.

“y-yeah, sure…” the rest of her getting ready went by a blur. her members had questions, but she was debatably even more confused by the whole situation.

later on during the meeting, haerin could barely get a word in. there was so much happening all at once. her manager was just sitting there, his head in his hands, some pr specialist was drafting up a whole plan of where to go and when while she just sat there, mindlessly listening to the conversation.

why did they confirm the rumour?

“why was the rumour confirmed…?” she finally spoke up. all heads snapped in her direction and she winced internally.

“is that not what you would have wanted?” haerin’s manager gestured to his phone. she then remembered how hard normally coming out would be. could this be considered a hard launch? “you’re everywhere. and most idols dream of having the chance to go public with their relationship.”

“i’m not in a relationship.”

her manager blinked slowly. she could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “what?”

“i’m not in a relationship. especially not with y/n.” that last part felt forceful. they might’ve gotten the wrong idea. haerin wasn’t homophobic or anything—she just really wasn’t in a relationship with the girl.

one of the coordinators held up his pen, pointing it at the photo dispatch got of her and you. she could silently admit the picture was cute, if it wasn’t for the circumstances she’d send it to you. “you two were on a date.”

“we’re friends. i meet up with her every couple weeks.”

haerin almost jumped at her manager standing up all of a sudden. he placed his hand on his forehead in a gesture of defeat before speaking. “…it was a boy, right? the kim you were meeting lately.”

“yes.” she nodded slowly. “we’re not together anymore too. but it was a boy, not y/n.”

dots slowly connected with her head. kim y/n. how stupid of her to foolishly believe her manager would just forget about the person she told him she’d dated. and for her best friend to have the same last name?

“it’s not like we can suddenly deny it. we have to send some representatives to dsp media though. we’ve confirmed it, so we’re gonna get a bad image if they deny it. get someone to look into that. meeting concluded.”

shortly after that, people started leaving the room. haerin still sat there, awkwardly fidgeting with her phone, ignoring her manager’s gaze on her.

“i can text her, right?” it wasn’t a secret relationship or anything. well, it wasn’t a relationship to begin with. why would she call it that? “i mean, does she know?”

“i’m sure y/n knows, as you do. it’s not like news like that are dismissed by the public.” her manger pointed out the obvious. he had an annoying habit of doing that. she fought the urge to roll her eyes. “you know that, don’t you.” of course she did.

“what about my members?” minji would have her head. hanni too. danielle too, probably. maybe hyein not. maybe? no, her too.

“what about them?” haerin wished she could just disappear. what an absurd situation to find oneself tangled up in. “as far as everyone is concerned, you’re in a happy relationship with kim y/n, young posse’s member. if only she was a boy.”

“why would she need to be a boy?” she knew. of course she did. all that nonsense about queer people in the industry.

“you know that.” she couldn’t argue, even if she’d tried. “i do.”

“don’t ruin this for yourself.” as if she could do so more than she already did. what would happen to her friendship? what about her members? what about the group’s future? “play the part, date for a month. go on three dates and wait until they have a comeback. you can break up after that.”

they just had a comeback, haerin thought. stupid dispatch. “i’ll text her.” her. what about her ex? she should feel bad, now it looks like she was cheating on him because they broke up a week ago. “what about…?”

“about?” a pointed look from her made the manager nod in understanding. “the boy. i’ll look into it. solve what you have to do.”

there’s a lot of things to resolve here.

*ೃ༄

colour drained from your face the moment you woke up in the middle of the night (to be fair, it was more around 4), your phone buzzing with notifications. safe to say, you ran to meet with the ceo as quickly as you could.

to make matters worse, haerin wasn’t replying to your texts. you were so lost in that moment—what dating rumour? why was no one saying anything?

“so.” you looked up, wincing internally at the glare your manager sent your way. god bless the others were still asleep. how could you explain this later though? “got any thoughts you want to share?”

“yeah.” you slowly leaned back in the chair, trying to relax. nothing big, just your first scandal. maybe you could play it off, that shouldn’t be too hard? “this feels like i’m being scolded by my teacher…”

“this is not the time, y/n.” your ceo spoke up. you slowly nodded your head, that might’ve been the truth. it wasn’t your fault you reacted to stressful situations with awkwardness.

“i don’t- me and haerin aren’t together, i don’t even think she’s…” it doesn’t feel like it, does it? she’s only ever showed you pictures of ‘cute boys’. “you know.”

“maybe-“ your phone buzzing aggressively for the second time that day cut you off. you glanced at the other people in the room, quietly apologising for the disturbance.

“no, check it. maybe it’s a follow up to the dispatch post?” nodding to agree with the ceo, you checked the notifications and your face went pale.

“they… ador confirmed it…?” your phone was snatched out of your hand as your manager hovered over you. “what’s going on?”

“they sure did.” the ceo placed his hands on his temples, rubbing them gently. the situation was starting to look worse and worse. what on earth was happening? “get someone to contact hybe. it’s still early, so we should be able to play off not responding right away. and you-“ his glare settled on you, making a shiver run down your spine. “contact that haerin. ask her to sort out whatever the fuck this is.”

“yessir.” oh yeah, haerin had a lot of explaining to do.

*ೃ༄

as it turned out, resolving all of that had to wait until you could peacefully leave your dorm. just a couple hours after ador confirmed the news, a bunch of (concerningly old) bunnies gathered outside your dorm. damn sasaengs. scratch that, damn creepy adult newjeans’s fans.

your manager was arranging some additional security to drive you away from the dorm, but he told you to play along with the rumour for now. that meant lying to your members. you were sneakily glancing through the window when the leader of your group suddenly appeared behind you.

you jumped slightly at sunhye’s sudden appearance. “i told the rest not to bother you for now. must be hard, huh?”

“…” your eyes followed her figure as she leaned on the windowsill next to you and also observed the crowd below you. “aren’t you mad?”

“i’m frustrated. partially with you, but i understand it’s not your fault, y/n. i just thought you’d tell us if you were in a relationship.” she gave you a pointed glare and you hummed softly. sunhye was getting suspicious of the whole situation, but you’d let her. haerin first—then you could argue with others.

“we didn’t mean for it to go that way. the relationship was still fresh too…” that was your best bet. you could play it as if you two only recently started dating.

“okay.” sunhye nodded her head with a small sigh before a soft smile appeared on her lips. “i’m happy for you. the girls-“ she gestured with her head subtly towards the bedrooms. “i’m sure they’re happy too. just be careful, okay?”

“i will, unnie…” your phone buzzed, information you of a new message. it was your manager telling you to take the lift downstairs and wait for him there. “i have to go..”

“good luck.”

“hm.” you rushed to the elevator, grabbing a face mask, pair of sunglasses and a cap on your way out. would hiding your face now change a lot? no, but it was still better to be safe than sorry—oh, the irony.

you saw a green mark appear next to haerin’s icon, signalling she was finally active. three dots appeared next to her user as she started typing. you sighed softly, pressing the ground level button in the lift.

haerinnie

we have to meet up

y/n 🩷

we sure do?

y/n 🩷

you’ve got some explaining to do.

haerinnie

i know

the elevator doors slid open with a small ding and you were greeted with your manager waiting for you. behind him stood a couple guys and a girl you’d recognise as your makeup artist. you quirked your brow softly before glancing at the man.

“public appearance.” he replied shortly before ushering you to move.

haerinnie

meet me at xxx in 20? i promise we’ll talk there

y/n 🩷

see you there

you gave your manager the address and before you knew it, your small group (meaning the security, manager and makeup artist) were all loaded into a car. somehow you managed to slip through the sea of newjeans fans.

the girl immediately told you to take off your mask and the rest of your ‘identity protection’ gear so she could start working on your face. when you gave a questioning look to the manager, he sighed and replied. “you’re going on a date for all the media knows. your relationship just has been confirmed. ador sent out representatives to talk to as just after the meeting and it might’ve been an honest mistake on both sides, but the both of you will have to keep it up.”

“honest mistake?” how can someone confirm a relationship and then call it an honest mistake.

“young posse will have a comeback sooner than we initially assumed.” he licks his lips before continuing. “you’re free to break up then. the scandal will keep both of the groups relevant for now, even if the event was a mistake.”

by the time you realised how absurd all of that sounded, you’ve arrived at the meet-up place. you could see haerin sitting inside, as as her best friend you could recognise her in the stupidest disguise.

“keep in touch. we’ll leave as not to attract any more unnecessary attention.” you nodded at the manager weakly and sneaked inside the little cafe before anyone could try to spot you.

haerin lifted her head before giving you a weak smile as your approached her table. “hi there…”

“what the fuck?” you realised there was a better way to approach the subject, but you were too tired to give a damn. “why would ador confirm the news?“

“it’s my fault.” with the way she groaned and hid her face in her hands at your reaction, you must’ve looked like you were about to murder someone. “your last name is ‘kim’. i used to date this boy who’s last name was also-“

“you had a boyfriend?!” you didn’t know if anything could surprise you anymore. your best friend had a boyfriend she never told you about and now she was in a supposed relationship with you. how crazy could life get?

“we broke up.” she nervously avoided your gaze as she spoke. “we were together for only a while… i thought we might click but he wasn’t really all that. and i wanted to focus on my career. but we’re besides the point.”

haerin pulled out her phone and showed you the article again. the header presented both of your full names.

“my manager knew i was dating ‘a kim’. i never told him who it was just because i thought it was too soon to introduce him officially. when this-“ she gestured to the article again. “came out, he just assumed it was whom i was meeting the past couple weeks. they didn’t consult me, just confirmed everything quickly.”

you slowly nodded along to everything she said. her explanation made sense and it wasn’t technically her fault, like you initially assumed. the situation was brutally messy, but knowing your best friend didn’t loose her mind made you feel better.

“what do we do now?” you finally asked. she fidgeted with her hands before looking around the cafe. of course there must’ve been a camera here—someone was always on the lookout for gossip. haerin leaned close to your face, from the side it looked like she was kissing your cheek.

“we play along.” she whispered. “give it some time. people will forget and then we can ‘officially break up’.”

sure. that sounded fair.

*ೃ༄

there was a small flaw in the plan as it later turned out. for starters, people didn’t forget. on the contrary—after the initial shock died down and you stopped getting random threats on the internet, the fans started showing you two a lot of love. #y/nrin and #y/n&haerin were trending all over the social medias.

that meant you two couldn’t just hope for them to move on and then break up.

there was also another small problem. see, while haerin told you she wasn’t truly interested in any relationship now, you were quite the opposite. a hopeless romantic, if you would. and your best friend was such a caring fake girlfriend…

it wasn’t entirely your fault you fell for her. she wasn’t making this easy. deep down you knew she was most likely straight and wouldn’t go for you. you did the best thing you could come up with—distance yourself from her.

the consequences of your actions came to bite you sooner than you’d expected as after three days of ‘postponing’ your fake dates with haerin, you found minji angrily banging at your dorm doors.

a little groggily, you let the leader of newjeans inside before she basically slammed you against the doors. “y/n!”

“w-what?!” her semi aggressive behaviour made you wake up fully. she looked pissed and you made a mental note not to ever anger her like that again. “what happened?”

“haerin is sad because of you.” she said simply, as if expecting you had a good explanation.

“huh?” you tilted your head to the side and minji looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but there. “what do you mean…”

“she let it slip that you’ve been ghosting her, y/n. now i don’t know the details but you don’t get to hurt my band made just because.” you nervously grinned at her. haerin was sad because of you? sure, you were her best friend, but before all of this, you’d only meet up every couple weeks.

“i’ll talk to her-“

“you better.” minji let you go and left the dorm as quickly as she appeared there. you decided that you owned her this much at least. it was better to come clean, no? maybe you two could have an actual reason to ‘break up’ if you talked with haerin.

y/n 🩷

meet me at our cafe in 10? please?

it took a couple minutes for haerin to reply. you didn’t know if she was purposely ignoring you to give you a taste of your own medicine.

haerinnie

why should i

y/n 🩷

please

haerinnie

you’ve been ignoring me

haerinnie

why should i agree to something for you

y/n 🩷

i’ll explain myself, i promise

y/n 🩷

just come there?

another two minutes passed and you were starting to lose hope. maybe she got more annoyed than you initially assumed.

haerinnie

be there in 10

you hurried to the cafe too. saying it was a 10 minutes walk from your dorm was a stretch, but your friendship was on the line. your leader yelled something after your when you were leaving the dorm, but you didn’t hear her. there were more important things than being an idol in that moment.

the bell above the doors dinged quietly when you finally made it inside the small coffee shop. you saw haerin sitting there, but she didn’t bother looking up at you.

“you’re late.” her tone was a little colder than usual. the same voice she used to talk with everyone—but you weren’t like everyone, you were her best friend.

“i’m sorry…” she finally looked up when she heard you practically hyperventilating. you ran there as fast as you could, and now you needed a moment to regain your breathing. “i-i should’ve said 20 minutes…”

you saw a ghost of a smile appear on her lips before she cleared her throat. “i ordered your favourite… it should be here soon.”

you plopped down on the chair in front of her, nodding your head in a grateful manner. even annoyed, haerin was a caring individual. “i’ll pay you back later.”

“no need.” she straightened in her seat. haerin wanted answers and she wanted them now. “just tell me. what did i do?”

“what?” she wasn’t seriously thinking it was because of her, was she?

“did i hurt you or something?”

“no, haerin! i-“ you leaned your face on your palms. it was hard to explain without bluntly giving yourself away. “you didn’t do anything wrong. i swear on my group.”

“then what is it. i know you, y/n. you don’t just do shit like that unless something happened.”

she knew you too well for her own good. did she knew you liked girls too? did she knew she was the prettiest girl in your eyes? “haerin, i don’t… i don’t want out friendship to end because of this.”

“hm?” her eyes widened subtly. she tilted her head to the side, looking like a cat. oh how you hated how cute she was sometimes. “i’m not following.”

“haerin… i like you.”

“i like you too.” she nodded to herself. “you’re my best friend. dani almost got mad over the fact that i said you’re my best friend and she’s-“

“haerin.” you placed your hand on hers, gently drifting her attention back to you. she looked into your eyes, and you saw a sudden flash of understanding. “i like like you. i don’t want to fake date you.”

she stayed silent. her eyes slowly blinking at you as if she was processing the information. that wasn’t the response you were hoping for. she was supposed to say something. anything. you felt your eyes stinging, tears slowly appearing in them before she spoke up.

“okay.” haerin nodded to herself again.

“okay?” what kind of response is that?

“is this a date then?”

“haerin, i just confessed to you-“

“okay.” she repeated, this time with a small smile on her face. “you’re easy to fall for, y/n. or at least i think that. i don’t know if i like like you yet… but i think i want to date you too.”

“…really?” you couldn’t stop the grin from appearing on your face. “100% serious?”

“yes. but i’m paying for the date.”

“i asked you out tho!”

“and you were late.”

*ೃ༄