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norrizzandpia · 7 months ago

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HE WON! LAN WON!

Summary: A long awaited win warrants a shouting Y/n, the proud girlfriend of Lando Norris, 2024 Miami Grand Prix Race Winner. Not only that, but also a smiling Lando now ready for questions about their future.

Warnings: LITERALLY NOTHING EXCEPT A SEXUAL COMMENT AND ME SOBBING IM SO HAPPY FOR THIS MAN I DONT EVEN KNOW (also like a theme of marriage and a comment about having children lol)

Note: i was screaming.

Y/n could feel the sweat drip down her back as her hands shook against her mouth. She had come into this race, along with Lando, assuming there would be a P2 secured for him with the new upgrades, but as the gap between him and Max got larger, it became clear it was his time. His time to let go of that stupid record, the one that had crushed him to hold, of having the most podiums without a race win. Her heart jumped every time he rounded a corner, praying to any kind of higher power to not let a safety car or a jittery move made by him ruin his chances again of winning. She couldn’t stomach the thought of that, he couldn’t either. And by the faces surrounding her in the McLaren Garage, she knew nobody else could.

Everybody held their breath, nerves overwhelming them as their eyes stuck to the screen. Could this be it? Could this be the moment where he took the title as race winner?

It seemed so as he rounded the last corner and his triumph resulted in cheers being heard for miles. Y/n didn’t realize the tears falling from her face until Andrea ran over to her, hugging her and wiping her tears with a laugh.

“HE WON!” She shouted in his face, mascara very likely smudging around her eyes. Andrea nodded at her and hugged her once more before moving on to the engineers behind her. Zak was the second person to find her, screaming with her and high-fiving her when she noticed the glistening in his eyes.

“Are you crying?!” She laughed. Zak shook his head, but wiped away the wetness right under his eye.

She giggled, “I won’t tell anyone.”

He chuckled along with her before the moments dawned on her once more.

She turned around to face the engineers, “HE WON!”

They screamed it back at her as if to try and convince themselves of it, too surreal for their comfort. There was a massive group hug between Y/n and the engineers, all of them having seen just how hard Lando worked for this exact achievement.

“Y/N!” Zak screamed from across the room. When she turned around, she found him aggressively waving his hand, motioning for her to come join him in congratulating Lando.

She squealed before taking off, leaving the man behind quickly.

On her way there, sprinting chaotically, she haphazardly facetimed Cisca, Lando’s mother. When the call went through, their two tear soaked faces met one another and they only began to cry more.

“HE DID IT, CISCA! HE WON! LAN WON!” She screamed, fans and bystanders taking out their phones to videotape the cute moment of loud support from the girlfriend of the newest race winner.

Their cameras caught her flying down the pit lane, screaming into her phone with Cisca over how elated she was for Lando. To add to the charm, the videos captured her tripping and almost face planting on the floor from the sheer pace of her legs. Her cheeks heated up in embarrassment, but she was quick to put it all aside as she pushed through the masses of people, waving her phone around and yelling at everyone to move away because she had the mother of Lando Norris on the phone.

Her body was smashed against the railings as his car came into view and her tears only came falling down harder. Andrea, who was standing off to the side and outside of the barriers, ran over to her, moving the tape up enough for her to come under. She gave him a questioning look, “Aren’t I supposed to stay behind it?”

Andrea shook his head, “Lando would’ve forced you to come out of it anyway. Just be prepared for the trample you’ll get when he gets out of his car.”

She laughed and her head whipped around at the sounds of intense cheering, seeing her boyfriend practically fly out of his car and throw himself into the arms of his team. Cisca laughed at it all on the phone, commenting to Y/n about how chaotic her son had turned out to be.

“Chaotic? I think he’s just clinically insane, hate to say it.” Y/n giggled, shaking her head at the truly concerning things Lando had said to or done with her in the years they’d been together.

“WHERE’S Y/N? DID NOBODY GET HER FROM THE GARAGE? WHAT?” Lando’s body leaned over to one of the engineers, the poor man trying to tell him how close his girlfriend was.

Finally, after a few failing attempts, the man just pointed and yelled, “SHE’S OVER THERE, MATE!”

Lando’s head turned, eyes locking with hers and softening. Andrea quickly took the phone out of her hands, knowing she would want two empty hands to welcome her boyfriend with. And just in time because Lando was sprinting to her, screaming about what he had just done.

“DID YOU SEE, LOVE?! Y/N, I WON A RACE! I’M A RACE WINNER!” His volume was deafening, but the way he crashed into her, holding her body to his as she stumbled back, said more.

It was no secret how in love the two were. Having met four years ago in the paddock, they were inseparable ever since. From the small and subtle touches to the strong statements of adoration and love, there was no fighting or doubting the two would end up sharing the same last name. Y/n had been open in the months leading up to Miami that she had begun manifesting his race win, touching many hearts in the process. Posting pictures of her journal with the sentence “Lando Norris is a Grand Prix Race Winner” written over and over and over again, his mirror with sticky notes in her handwriting with the same eight words. She stopped at nothing. Y/n even took to forcing Lando to make honey jars with her, that specific phrase on a small note inside, so that maybe it would “stick to him”. She was completely uneducated in the world of manifestation and rituals, but she liked to think she was somehow involved in this.

Nonetheless, it all paid off as he reeled back, tears in his eyes, and kissed her sweetly in front of many. His kisses were soft and hasty, drawing back every few seconds to plant another one on her mouth. His arms tightened around her frame and his lips rested against the shell of her ear, “Thank you for everything, baby. I couldn’t have ever done this without you and your spells. I love you so much and there are not enough words to express how grateful I am that you are standing here with me today.”

She grasped his cheeks, pulling him back so their eyes could meet once more, and wiped his cheeks. He did the same to her as she whispered, “This was all you. I hope you never doubt how talented you are ever again because of this, Lan. Everyone is so proud of you, we always have been, but it’s heightened today because you deserve this so much. You deserve a lot of things, this is the start of many.” She brought his face closer to hers, their noses touching, “I am so happy for you, Lan.”

The tears under his eyes pooled around her thumbs at her words and he just shook his head, kissing her again before Cisca’s voice was loading emitting from the phone beside them.

“LANDO NORRIS! YOU ARE A RACE WINNER, HONEY!” She screamed, a slight crack from the speaker.

He blushed, “Thank you, mum. I love you so much. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Adam’s head popped out from the side of the frame, “What about me?!” He said with a smile and Lando only laughed.

The parents riddled off excited murmurs of support and love before Lando was being ushered away.

A slight crease to his forward told Y/n he didn’t want to leave. She squeezed his hand, “Go, Lan. I’ll be with the engineers below while you get your trophy. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your parents have the best view.”

He shook his head, “I want you to come with me, though.”

She sighed, kissing his cheek, “No, Lan. This is your moment to shine. Go savor it, baby.”

His eyes flickered to the man waiting off to the side, waving his hand as to tell him where he needed to go, and back to his Y/n. The woman he had fallen in love with all that time ago, the woman he had been waiting for his entire life, the woman who had been with him throughout this entire journey, and the woman who he was elated still put up with him long enough to see this moment as the love of his life. He wanted her to share in the victory with him, but the pleading in her eyes told him that wasn’t the right decision. She was right. This was the moment he’d always been waiting for. This was his time to take that top step and cement his presence in it by himself.

Another reason why he loved her so much. She always knew what he wanted even when he didn’t.

Kissing and hugging her again, he ran off.

When he disappeared behind the random door that led him to his podium, Y/n turned to Andrea and Lando’s parents, the ones still on the phone with their smiling faces, they all just looked knowingly at her.

“What?” She giggled.

Cisca was the first to speak, “If there isn’t a ring stuffed away somewhere in you two’s apartment, I’ll be damned.”

—

After the champagne spraying and Lando’s eyes never leaving hers from his high podium, the two were reunited in the McLaren Garage.

His hand slid into hers before leaning his heavy body on her, “I’m so tired. That car was hot as fuck.”

Y/n’s fingers trailed up his back before sinking into his hair, tugging and scratching lightly, “Oh? Tired? That’s a shame.”

Lando let out a confused noise, “Why?”

She turned her head so her lips were close to his ear, “Because I was already planning your post race win celebration. The one in the privacy of our hotel room.”

He choked on the oxygen he was in the midst of inhaling, “I’m not tired anymore.”

“Really? The car was hot, no?” Zak stepped into their conversation, having no idea what he was interrupting.

Lando laughed and Y/n just stuttered, “Yeah, he was just saying it was. I think it’s the adrenaline of winning that’s making him feel awake.”

Zak’s mouth fell open in understanding before he stepped closer and patted Lando on the back, “I’m really proud of you, kid.”

The two shared a quick hug and Lando smiled, “Thank you for all the support you’ve shown me.”

When they parted ways and Lando led Y/n back to his car, he turned to her in the driver’s seat. His eyes bore into hers and didn’t let go as he took her hands, “I have never been as in love with anyone as I am with you and you don’t understand how happy I am you’re here to share in this with me.”

She caressed his cheekbone, “I’m so happy to be here with you too, Lan. You deserve this and so many more wins.”

There was something evident he wanted to say, but it was clear he was hesitant. Y/n could see it. Not wanting to push him, she just smiled and clutched his hand, silently telling him she was safe to confide in, that she would never leave him. Her hand holding was a promise of forever.

Just what Lando needed.

“Promise when I get down on one knee, you’ll say yes?” He whispered.

Her mind took her back to Cisca and Adam and Andrea when they all looked on at her as the future wife of their favorite boy. Her cheeks blushed, “I promise I’ll say yes.”

He exhaled a breath, “Thank God. I have a mental list of all the achievements I want to earn in my life and there’s only one thing left on it.”

She gave him a confused look as he started the car, “What is it?”

He looked at her like it was obvious, “Marrying you. Winning a race was on there,” He smiled, “check. Get into Formula One, check. Meet the woman of my dreams,” A bigger smile, “check. Treat her well,” His eyebrows raised.

She laughed and nodded, “Check.”

He dipped his head down, “Exactly. The last thing on there is to marry her - you.”

“Nothing else?” She asked, toying with his fingers as they rested on her thigh.

He moved his head from side to side, “I assume I will add things to it as we go on in life. Maybe have kids with you, that could be fun. But, for right now, just that. I’d like to bask in the happiness of knowing everything worked out in the end.”

She brought his the back of his hand to her lips and kissed the skin, “It always will, Lan.”

They met eyes as he came to a stop at a light and the comforting color of hers made Lando come to the most beautiful revelation of his life.

As long as she was with him, it truly always would work out.

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tired-teacher-blog · 10 months ago

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Virgin Pro hero Iida whose mind couldn't be less concerned about the subject despite him nearing his thirties.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who usually brushes off his friends' teasing words about him being "clueless around girls" and "surely to die alone" since his one and only goal in life is to be a hero worthy of carrying his brother's title, and nothing more.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who has the habit of scolding you each time you playfully ask him out on a date since he's just so used to everyone's mocking and believes it's what you're doing as well.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is tragically unaware of your true feelings for him, and for someone who appears to be quite sharp and brainy, he constantly misses the longing gaze in your eyes.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who finally agrees to join you for dinner one evening just to shut you up and put an end to your pestering, only to wind up having a wonderful time with you, away from the usual stress of work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who starts freaking out the moment he realizes that your soft voice and beautiful face are now hunting him, plaguing his every waking hour and rendering his mind a tangled mess, and the more he tries to deny it, the clearer it becomes that you are no longer just a dear friend to him, but potentially something a lot more than that.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose peculiar tics seem to worsen around you, prompting your confusion as you watch him lose his composure before disappearing without a trace.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who secretly wishes you would ask him out again since he cannot bring himself to do it no matter how much he tries.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost yells his agreement when his wish finally comes true as you casually suggest having a drink together after work.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush refuses to leave his face while he strives to keep his cool around you, beating himself up for seeming like a loser, but is unaware of how adorable he appears to you.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose priorities start to shift and broaden a bit -to potentially include you- the moment your hand accidentally brushes against his own when walking you back home after your fourth date.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who can never explain the persistent heat waves washing over his body everytime you flash him a smile or call out his name, and in his confused virgin brain, it can only mean him suffering from an illness which seems to aggravate with your presence. Yeah, that must be it.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who almost breaks into laughter when he realizes the real reason behind his inexplicable state the moment you share your first kiss. It was never a virus or a mysterious syndrome that hit him, it was simply you all along.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose arms shakily sneak around your waist and bring you against his toned chest to prolong this magical moment while your lips are moving perfectly together.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's unaware of the prominent smile plastered across his face for days now, his eagerness is growing by the second and the feeling of your soft breath fanning over his face as you leaned back from the kiss, is still vivid in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose body stiffens -but only for a second- the moment you invite him into your apartment with a suggestive glint in your eye. He's not stupid, and understands your intentions perfectly as they mirror his own, but his restlessness and excitement are messing with his brain and preventing him from voicing his approval, so much so that he ends up stiffly stepping inside without a word.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's barely able to form a coherent thought all throughout the movie you suggested watching together, and whose only interest seems to be in the way your fingers are absentmindedly playing with his own.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's just about reached his limit when you clumsily move to straddle his waist and claim his lips in a tender kiss as the end credits roll up the screen.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who curses under his breath when feeling his cock hardening against your restless hips, he wants more but is unsure of how to proceed, or if it is even possible for him to withstand your teasing without bursting in his pants.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who suddenly stands up while holding you in his arms, searching your eyes for a permission to carry you to bed, and stumbling his way there when you shyly nod an approval.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who lays you down gently and kneels before you, a deep flush reaching the tips of his ears as he racks his brain for what to do next.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose blush undeniably grows when you start giggling at his clumsy state and softly ask him to follow your lead as you guide his moves.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who's a quick learner, promptly takes control and relishes the way your directing words jumble up with broken moans as you finally give in to him.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is a gentleman, does his utmost to pleasure you, as best as his virgin body allows, and boy does he do that!

Virgin Pro hero Iida who whimpers loudly while feeling your warm walls squeezing him blissfully for the very first time, praying to God not to cum right then and there as the sensation is driving him insane.

Virgin Pro hero Iida whose tears are threatening to spill as he buries his face in the crook of your neck before giving in to them.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who cannot get enough of your warmth surrounding him, strokes, kisses and embraces you all night long while moving slowly and deeply into your heat and taking the time to explore your lustful body.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who breathlessly watches your enticing body splayed underneath himself with the hope of itching this heavenly image of you deep in his memory.

Virgin Pro hero Iida who is proud and elated to have you as his first, it was never about losing his virginity but rather, about experiencing it with the right person, and that is precisely who you are.

Divider by : @/cafekitsune

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girlrotterr · 10 days ago

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✧ ⁺˳ She might not look like she gets bitches.

꒰ streamer!ellie headcannons ꒱ a/n: I know this is a little short but wanted to write something silly!

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whose bad posture is only made worse by the massive gaming headset permanently denting her hair. By the end of each stream, there’s a wild, flattened patch on her head. Chat’s constantly telling her to take a break, but she just grins, shaking her head with a stubborn “This is the look, trust.” ignoring the fact that her neck is basically molded to fit the headset

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whose mic is almost as old as her setup, hanging off a stand with a few screws loose. It crackles with static if she yells too loudly, but she refuses to upgrade.

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whose webcam glitches, freezing her mid-sentence in the least flattering positions, like mid-eye roll or tongue out. She’ll smack the side of her screen, muttering. “Oh, fucking come on!”

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whose desk is a mess of clutter: tangled cords, stray stickers, and half-finished doodles scattered across the surface. Chat is obsessed with trying to guess what all the random junk is, especially when something odd slips into frame—like an old action figure with a missing arm or an unopened can of Spam.

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie who leans back in her chair, stretching out her arms with a carefree sigh, her hair falling messily over her face. When suddenly, the camera catches a glimpse of her strap-on, casually hanging out in the corner of the screen.

"IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS?!!"

"DAWG NO WAY!?"

"NO WAY BRO GETS ANY TYPE OF PLAY"

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whose chat’s favorite pastime is mocking her everytime she gets cocky. She’ll brag like, “Watch this fucking clutch.” only to immediately fumble, staring straight into her webcam, deadpaned. The chat spamming with messages like:

"Just uninstall bro.."

"How tf is she this bad?!"

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whose quick to pick up on any kid’s attitude in the game. The second she hears a high-pitched “You’re trash!” she instantly counters, “YOUR DADS STROKE GAME IS TRASH!” She’ll sit there grinning, hyping herself up as the kids try to come back with more insults. Chat’s losing it, spamming, "BRO HE'S 12?!"

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whenever in the heat of a game, her brows furrow, her jaw sets, and the chat braces for impact. When she misses a shot, her frustrated yell reverberates, echoing through thin walls that neighbors are definitely complaining about. “I’m never playing this shit again!” Spolier: She always plays it again.

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie whenever she’s roped into playing with Abby, her chat lights up with anticipation. Abby always manages to take her down, which only amps up her muttered curses and exaggerated sighs. “I WAS FUCKING LAGGING” she yells, while her chat’s ablaze with "IM CRYINGGGFF!" and "ELLIES ACTUAL FUCKING CHEEKS BRO!" Abby barely has to try; one word and Ellie’s thrown off, dropping all her ammo in the wrong place.

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie when you show up in her game lobby, she clears her throat, trying to play it smooth. She lowers her voice a full octave, attempting some kind of “cool” introduction. But the chat? They’re absolutely losing it.

"DID ELLIE JUST TURN INTO A FUCKING MAN?!"

"I CANNOTOTTTT"

"PLEASE ELLIE UR EMBARRASING."

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie always tries to play it smooth by making some bold promise, like, “Stick with me, and we’ll clutch this.” But then she immediately gets taken out. Chat explodes, throwing in every possible roast, like, "BRO ELLIE PACK IT THE FUCK UP!" and "THE HOES ARE RUNNING"

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie who, by the end of the stream, knows you’re still there in chat. So a quick, stumbling sentence slips out, “Uh, if you...you know, ever wanna game or whatever, just hit me up.”

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie when you send over your Instagram, she freezes, her in-game character getting KO’d. But she’s too hyped to care. She jumps out of her chair, nearly flipping it backward, screaming into her mic, “BRO, BRO, BRO, NO WAY—LETS GOOOO!!” She starts pacing, muttering, “CHAT, ARE WE SEEING THIS!?.”

The Chat’s blowing up like:

"WWWWWW!!!!!"

"OKAY ELLIEEEE WE SEE YOUUU!!!!"

"THERE'S ABSOLUETLY NO WAY"

"BRO?!?!?!!"

and she’s just laughing, all out of breath.

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie who’s bouncing in her seat, half-yelling at her monitor, “FUCKK ” She’s pointing at your handle in her chat, looking dazed, like she’s still trying to process it. Her hands are shaking, and she’s practically yelling over her poor-quality mic, “I FUCKING DID THAT CHAT!” Chat’s spamming, "PLEASEE SHE WAS DOING CHAIRTY WORK ELLIE!" and "NAHHH THATS DEFINITELY AI"

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie who’s too hyped to even hear the first few bangs on her door. But then, it’s like her soul leaves her body. “dude, what was that?” She leans closer to the mic, whispering like her neighbors can’t still hear her, “um… chat…?” Chat’s flooding with "NUH UHHH" and "AWWW SHITTT"and she’s just grinning, trying to stifle a laugh. “Alright, hold on, lemme go check”

✧⁺ — Streamer!Ellie where a moment later, she comes back into frame holding a piece of paper up to the webcam: an eviction notice. She stares at the camera, lips pressed into a thin line as chat explodes, crying.

"NO WAYYYYY!!!!?!??!?!"

"SENDING YOU JOB APPLICATIONS"

"IM FUCKING CRYINGFFFF!!"

"UR GONNA HAVE TO SELL THAT STRAP"

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starryjake · 22 days ago

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attention | l.h

in which you find a way to get your gamer boyfriend’s attention by edging him until he breaks.

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

includes: edging, cum swallowing, m receiving oral, slightly throat fucking (lmk if i missed anything).

your boyfriend was so lazy.

you didn’t mind it. you actually liked being able to do things for him because he did a lot for you, lazy as he was. he paid the entire rent of your shared apartment, bought you nice things, and was honestly the best boyfriend you could ask for.

but as soon as he sat down in front of his computer monitor and put his headset on, it was nearly impossible to get him to move. he could easily spend hours in that seat not moving, yelling to his friends over his headset and perhaps even forgetting about you had you not brought him drinks and snacks every couple of hours.

that was the case as of right now. it was late and it was rainy outside and nothing sounded better to you than cuddling on the couch with your boyfriend and watching a movie together.

“heeseung,” you whined, standing next to his chair as he stared into his monitor without even blinking.

“i know, baby,” he replied, still not looking at you. “just give me a few more minutes.”

“i’ve given you hours,” you informed.

“five minutes, baby,” he said. “c’mere. sit on my lap and watch me play for five minutes.”

you huffed in annoyance, taking a seat on his lap with your back pressed to his chest. he wrapped his arms around your waist and continued playing with you sat on him.

you rested the back of your head on his warm chest and watched him skillfully play some video game, occasionally saying something to the friends he was playing with over his mic.

admittedly, you were entertained watching him, but then you’d realized an entire 10 minutes had passed and your patience started wearing thin.

“hee-”

“dude!” he yelled suddenly to his friend, interrupting you. “you totally could’ve gotten that guy, man, c’mon.”

“heeseung,” you scolded, sitting up in his lap and facing him with a frown.

“out of the way, baby,” he said, shifting his neck slightly so he could see the screen.

your jaw clenched. you were beyond pissed now and the fact he couldn’t even tell because he was so distracted pissed you off even more.

then suddenly, like a light bulb turning on, an idea popped into your head.

you shifted off his lap and onto the floor, kneeling in front of him. he glanced down at you for a second. you were nearly hidden under his desk, but a little smirk appeared on his face at the idea of what you might be doing.

you disregarded him, sliding your hand up and down his thigh, watching the gray fabric grow tighter and tighter as he slowly got hard from your contact.

he was still only half paying attention to you. in fact, it wasn’t even half. he would just occasionally glance down at you before regaining focus on his game.

you wrapped your hand around his half hard erection over his sweatpants, feeling it grow harder in your grasp. you licked your lips, already excited to get him on your tongue.

you didn’t have enough patience to tease, so you got straight to it. you tugged on the waistband of his sweatpants, to which he lifted his hips up a bit to help so you could pull them down to his ankles along with his boxers.

his cock, now fully erect, stood straight up and long in front of you. you grabbed his length by it’s base, leaning forward to softly kitten lick the smooth pink tip. heeseung looked down at you and offered you a little smile, mouthing the words “good girl” to you.

you smiled back, and as soon as he looked back up to his game, you rolled your eyes. he would not be calling you a good girl for long.

you wrapped your lips around his tip and started sucking, forcing yourself further down his length. heeseung let out a sigh since he couldn’t moan, not with his friends on the same call. he’d never hear the end of it.

during a break in the game, he finally gave you all his attention. he momentarily set his controller down so he could glide his slender fingers through your hair, playing with the silky strands while your mouth moved up and down his twitching length, leaving his dick shining in your saliva.

“so good, baby,” he said quietly, watching you in pure fascination and awe.

you planted your hands on the tops of his thighs, forcing yourself to take him even deeper until his tip was hitting the back of your throat. your throat convulsed around him, gagging silently, and your eyes welled up with tears.

heeseung couldn’t help it this time when he moaned, a deep moan that came straight from his chest. he loved feeling you gag around him because he could feel the walls of your throat squeeze around his cock, and he loved seeing the saliva start to trickle out from the corners of your lips, spilling down the rest of his length and his balls.

you were hoping his mic was muted, but you weren’t sure. you assumed it was given how he was moaning the way he always did when it was just you listening.

but then, after about another minute of you giving all your energy to deep throat him, he pulled his hand out of your hair to pick up his controller again. he started talking to his friends and you knew that the game was starting back up.

you pulled off his cock to catch your breath, frustrated that he was back to not paying any attention to you.

you reattached your lips to his tip and dug your tongue into his slit, like you were digging for his precum. sure enough, a pretty pearly bead of precum formed and you lapped it right up like a kitten drinking milk. the salty substance washed over your taste buds and you had to squeeze your thighs together in order to calm the ache forming between them from tasting your boyfriend. you were mad at him sure, but you still were a sucker when it came to tasting his cum.

you held his cock in your hands and rubbed his tip over your lips like you were putting lip gloss on, only instead of lip gloss, it was a mixture of his precum and your spit. heeseung glanced down at you, smiling a bit at the sight, but it only made you more mad. you didn’t want him to be smiling. you wanted him to be on the verge of cumming.

if you wanted to get to that point, you knew what you had to do.

you licked a stripe down his shaft, tracing a vein, until you reached the end of his cock, then went for his balls. you licked them and heeseung jutted his hips up in surprise at the sudden sensation that he didn’t see coming.

“oh, fuck,” he said straight into his microphone.

you chuckled to yourself as he tried to explain to his friends why he just said that.

you took one of his balls into your mouth and sucked, fondling it with your tongue as you jerked off the length of his cock. heeseung’s breath was starting to get heavier and his hands were getting so sweaty that he was having trouble gripping the controller.

he bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything again, but that didn’t last long.

as you moved back up to licking at the underside of his tip, you massaged his balls in your hand because you knew it was what it would take for him to cum, and you were right.

all of a sudden, he looked down at you with those wide deer eyes, fucking his hips up into your mouth. you could feel his cock throb and his balls tighten with the need to release and just when you felt that he was about to let go, you pulled off of him entirely.

his jaw dropped in shock and he looked down at you in confusion and disappointment. he couldn’t speak because of his friends, but you basically knew what he would’ve said: that he was about to cum. you’d known that, of course. that was why you stopped.

his dick twitched in front of your face, a string of pre cum trickling down the side. you resisted the urge to lick it up, knowing that the slight contact might’ve just been enough for heeseung to cum.

innocently, you laid your head down on his firm, bare thigh, pressing your cheek against it. you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pouting teasingly.

he was still confused. he had no idea what you were doing, no idea what he was in for.

you waited a couple of minutes until he was back fully engrossed in his game, his cock gone half hard by then. you then lifted your head back up and immediately wrapped your lips around his tip again.

he glanced down at you, eyebrows furrowed. you jerked off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, focusing mainly on his tip as you knew he was so, so sensitive there.

he was back to fully erect in no time and since he got so close to cumming before but didn’t, it didn’t take long to get him back to that point.

he was slightly fucking his hips up again, his knee bouncing, his hairline beading with sweat. he tried not to make it obvious that he was about to cum, not wanting you to take it away from him again, but you still knew. what kind of girlfriend would you be if you didn’t know he was about to cum?

besides, his cock twitching and bobbing in your mouth told you everything. it was practically pulsating, getting ready to shoot what would most likely be a very big load.

he brought one his hands down to your head to try and hold you against his cock but you’d managed to pull off just in time, right before he could touch you.

he groaned in frustration, muting his microphone and staring down at you with less confusion now and more rage.

“what are you doing?” he demanded.

“nothing,” you replied innocently, fumbling with the bottom of his sweatshirt. “i’m just playing.”

“well stop playing and let me cum,” he said.

you frowned, mirroring his angry expression. you did not like the way he was bossing you around as though he was in charge right now. you had the power here, and he was only making things worse for himself.

“okay,” you said, though not sure if you meant it.

he gave you a warning glance before unmuting his mic and going back to his game. you rolled your eyes…again.

you focused your attention back to his cock, noticing how the color of his tip had changed from a soft pink to an angrier red, clearly feeling the effects of the edging you were putting him through.

you kissed his tip softly and his cock was wet enough from your previous saliva that you could glide your hand up and down it with ease. it was so wet that it even made a slick sound as you jerked it off, a sound so lewd that heeseung could feel the knot in his stomach again.

he gave you another look, one that was really telling you that you better let him cum this time, but where was the fun in that?

you smiled innocently, wrapping your lips around his cock and moving down to play with his balls again. immediately, he let out a little gasp and gripped the side of his chair.

“please,” he whispered, holding his breath.

you appreciated that he was using his manners now, but you still didn’t feel like giving it to him just yet. he still hadn’t learned.

his cock was beating like it had a pulse of it’s own in your mouth and you pulled off. this time, heeseung hurriedly brought his hand down to his dick to finish the job himself since you clearly weren’t going to, but you grabbed his wrist and held it out of the way, preventing him from touching himself.

he tried to break free of your grasp but you were gripping him tight, making sure that he wouldn’t be able to touch himself and make himself cum.

“what the fuck,” he practically sobbed, ripping his headset off and slamming his controller down. “let me cum already, y/n, fuck.”

you had to bite back a smirk. this was just what you wanted. you wanted to turn your boyfriend into a mess, a puddle of the composed man he normally was.

“play your game,” you said, disregarding his comments.

“no, i don’t care about the game,” he expressed. “i just wanna cum. please let me cum.”

“oh, so now you don’t care about the game,” you scoffed, softly dragging your fingertips over his warm tip, which caused him to wince. “now that i might not let you cum, you don’t care about it. how come you cared so much about it when i wanted to watch a movie with you?”

heeseung swallowed a lump in his throat. nothing he could say would help his case and he knew that.

“i’m sorry, baby,” he exclaimed desperately. “i’m so sorry. fuck—mm, please. please, i won’t do it again.”

“yeah right,” you muttered, rubbing his tip on your lips.

“i promise, baby,” he said. you pushed him past your lips, sucking on his spent cock again. “oh fuck—i promise. promise i’ll be better next time. please just let me cum. it hurts.”

you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again because you thought maybe it did hurt. maybe you’d edged him enough times by this point that his cock really had been too hard for so long and he needed it.

you didn’t want your boyfriend to be in pain.

you forced him all the way back down your throat, gagging like you did before once it was all the way in, except now heeseung had his undivided attention on you, and he loved to see you choke on his dick.

“oh fuck, yeah,” he grunted. “please, baby, please. i’m already close. i need it so bad.”

you squeezed his thigh, drool spilling out your lips and dripping down his cock and thighs. it was messy, but that only made it better for him, and he could already tell that he was about to cum, and he just prayed that you’d actually let him.

he dug his fingers through your hair, trying to be as subtle as possible as he held your head to his cock, trying to ensure that you won’t stop.

“please,” he whispered, biting his lower lip harshly.

you looked up at him through your eyelashes, feeling yourself get more turned on by how desperate he looked. you’d turned him into a complete and utter pathetic mess and you loved it.

“don’t stop,” he begged, his grip on your hair tightening. “i’m gonna cum, fuck! i’m gonna c—”

he threw his head back and could no longer produce any words, just a long, drawn out moan as he started cumming down your throat, jutting his hips up to fuck your mouth.

whimpers, whimpers you’d never heard from heeseung before left his mouth, which only showed you how fucked out you made him by edging him so hard. he was entirely so far gone, practically panting like a dog.

it seemed like he was cumming forever, keeping you held to his cock as he dumped what felt like a bucket of cum down your throat. your eyes watered and you were gagging uncontrollably around him, but you let him continue to fuck your throat and finish his release until he was done.

you pulled off his cock, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. his eyes were shut, still trying to catch his breath after cumming as hard as he just had.

“holy fuck,” he muttered to himself, forcing himself to open his eyes and watch you pull up his pants for him. “thank you, baby.”

you stood up and turned his monitor off.

“i think you owe me a movie,” you said, raising an unamused eyebrow.

“i think you’re right,” he said, too afraid of going through what he just went through with you again. “you pick, baby. we’ll watch whatever you want.”

you smirked to yourself as the two of headed towards the living room. now you knew what you had to do with your boyfriend in order to get your way.

i was kinda half asleep when i wrote this so idk if it’s any good lol

thank you for reading <3

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enha smut #enha x reader #enhypen x reader #kpop smut #heeseung smut #heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung x reader #lee heeseung smut #heeseung enha #enha heeseung #heeseung enhypen

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requiemforthepoets · 3 months ago

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overcooked 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: play overcooked they said, it’ll be fun they said.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i just can’t help write about the idea lando playing overcooked, so i did. hope you’ll enjoy this! :)

REMINDER: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WORD COUNT: 1k

WARNINGS: typos and ferrari strategy meme

Lando’s twitch stream was in full swing, and the chat was buzzing as you settled beside him, controller in hand.

“Alright, babe, let’s see how well we work together,” Lando teased, flashing you that signature grin. You rolled your eyes, already sensing that this game of overcooked might be more than what you bargained for.

You both dove into the first level, the kitchen chaos unfolding on the screen as you both tried to chop, cook, and serve orders with as much coordination as two people shared a life, but perhaps not a kitchen.

“Lando, the onions! You missed the onions!” You shouted, pointing at the screen as the virtual kitchen teetered on the brink of disaster.

“Relax, I’ve got this!” Lando replied, but his character was already running into walls, the pot burning on the stove. You could feel the frustration bubbling up, your competitive nature kicking into high gear.

You took charge of the kitchen, barking orders like a seasoned chef, while Lando scrambled to keep up. “Chop the onions faster, Lando!” You yelled as the kitchen timer ticked down. Lando, flustered, accidentally tossed the onions into the trash instead of the pot.

“Oops,” he said, trying to suppress a laugh.

“Oops?” You shot back, incredulous. “Lando, we’re running a restaurant, not a garbage disposal service!” The twitch chat exploded with laughter, and Lando couldn’t help but chuckle as well.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of trying to manage orders, avoid fires, and stop Lando from accidentally throwing perfectly good ingredients into the trash, you both managed to complete the level. The result? Two stars. You stared at the screen, eyes narrowing.

“Unacceptable.” You muttered, “this is unacceptable!” You declared, your voice suddenly dropping into a perfect Gordon Ramsay impression.

“Oh look, baby we got two stars! That’s not bad!” Lando said excitedly as he pointed on the screen.

“Not that bad? Are you kidding me, Lando?” You snapped, fully embodying the spirit of Gordon Ramsay. “We were all over the place! No communcation, no strategy. Honestly, what was that—your best effort? Do you want to serve that to people? Do you?!”

Your sudden intensity caught Lando off guard, but before he could say anything, you were now pacing back and forth in front of him. But before he could say anything, you were off on a tirade, launching into an elaborate explanation of your strategy. You gestured wildly, pointing at the screen, completely absorbed in your monologue.

“Okay, listen. First, you need to stay on your side of the kitchen. I’ll handle the chopping and the prep work—because clearly, you’re incapable of doing both without setting something on fire. We need to streamline the workflow. I’ll chop, you’ll cook, and we both plate. But!” You pointed at him, your expression deadly serious, “no more improvisation. We need to stick to the plan. No more running around like a headless chicken.“

Lando blinked and nodded at you, clearly taken aback by your sudden switch into full-on chef mode. He opened his mouth to respond but then quickly shut it, his eyes darting between you and the camera that was still live streaming every second of your tirade. The chat was exploding with messages, his fans throughly entertained by your unintentional transformation into a culinary dictator, and Lando knows better than to interrupt you when you’re in the zone.

“And another thing,” you continued, pointing to the screen like you were delivering the world’s most important TED talk. “Timing and synchronization is crucial. We need to strategize and work like a well-oiled machine, not a circus act, okay? I handle the chopping, you’ll cook, and we both plate. We’ll divide and conquer!”

The chat exploded, the fans losing it as she continued, hands flying everywhere in wild gestures. Meanwhile, Lando was trying his hardest not to crack up, the corners of his mouth twitching as he watched her go on.

“Babe…baby,” Lando finally managed to interject, struggling to keep a straight face. “You realize we’re live, right?”

You froze, eyes widening as you remembered the twitch stream, the hundred of his fans who had just witnessed your unhinged rant. Slowly, you turned to the camera, a sheepish grin spreading across your face.

“Oh…hi, chat,” you said, your voice suddenly much softer, the intensity draining from your expression. “I’m sorry for that. That was not very demure, very cutesy, and very mindful of me.”

Lando burst out laughing, nearly doubling over as he clutched his stomach. “I think you’ve been watching too much Hell’s Kitchen, love. Gordon Ramsay has become your new personality,” he teased, pulling you back down and sat you on his lap. You groaned, burying your face on his neck, as he put an arm around your waist, but even you couldn’t help laugh at yourself.

“Come on, let’s get you that three stars.” Lando said as he chuckled again. You settled down beside him and gave you a kiss on your temple.

The rest of the stream was just as chaotic as when you both started playing the game, filled with rage, frustration, and hilarious uncoordination. Orders were still missed, pots were still burning, and Lando’s character even managed to fall off the kitchen at one point, but you were both too busy laughing to care. By the end of the game, you hadn’t earned a single three-star rating that you had intentionally wanted, but the stream had been a massive hit, and the chat was flooded with memes of your intense strategy session.

As Lando ended the stream, he leaned over and kissed you on the lips, still chuckling. “We may not be the best team in overcooked, but I think we’re the most entertaining,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile played on your lips as you rested your head ok his shoulder. “Yeah, well, next time we’re getting three stars. I don’t care how long it takes.”

“Deal.” lando replied, wrapping an arm around you as you both relaxed, your own competitive sprit finally at peace—for now. “And can I say, it really turned me on when you started yapping.” His eyes wiggling, suggesting something that you knew fully well as you slapped him playfully on the chest.

“Oh shut up you.” You both laughed.

The kitchen might have been a disaster, but at least your relationship had survived the heat—well, barely.

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alexiroflife · 5 months ago

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"soft"

flufffffffff, reader is burned out, i love me some toji

toji fushiguro x reader

Synopsis: you ponder over how gentle toji has become with you during your time together

to sum it up: you and toji have a casual relationship, but he just may care about you a little more than he leads on

WC: 2,079

Warning(s): vaguely sexual themes

You had never expected Toji to be as soft of you as he is with you.

The Fushiguro’s hardened exterior combined with his intimidating physical appearance in addition to his unique occupation often sends people walking into the opposite direction of his path when they see him coming. He’s an uncommonly large man with a rather inhospitable air about his bulking frame.

He’s not very friendly, for he’s often glowering daggers into the backs of people’s heads when they pose as minor inconveniences to him during his day to day, such as standing too close behind him in a line to order food or blocking his view of the television screen where the race he has bet on picks up speed.

Toji’s a frightening man with an exceptional talent for murdering people swiftly and mercilessly. He isn’t the kind of guy you stop on the side of the road to ask for directions, for he exudes the epitome of unfriendliness.

When you start seeing him, you truly don’t expect much but a passionate fuck and a short text every other week or so. The two of you don’t have an official title to your relationship, therefore you imagine at first that he can’t care less whether you live or die, leave or stay.

You don’t think he’s a bad guy initially. While he’s rough around the edges and quick to agitation, he has the decency to text to make sure you get into your home safely though not the position to walk you home from his house. He also doesn’t yell at you when you notice that he is angry, though you understand that is not necessarily something that should be praised. When he’s mad, he puts forth his emotion into the way he fucks into you, hands gripping harshly around your waist while you writhe beneath him as the filthiest words you’ve ever heard in your life fly from his lips, then he’s alright, asking if you enjoyed yourself and going on about his night.

You never expected much from Toji, for you aren’t his girlfriend and he isn’t your boyfriend. But as time goes by, you notice his behavior shift ever so subtly toward you. Before you know it, he’s taking you out to grab food more often before your links, he’s letting you sleep over in his bed from time to time claiming that he ‘doesn’t feel like having to worry about you getting kidnapped on your way home,’ and he’s texting you more, randomly; asking about the movies you want to watch the next time you’re over, demanding to know what time you get off of work so you can visit him, and listening to you talk about your day as you curl up into his sheets under his arm, babbling on as he watches you blankly.

You don’t think he’s listening to you the first time you start chatting a little while after the post-breathlessness of your orgasm has died down, but then he’s mentioning something you briefly mentioned in your rant the next day casually, tossing it into the air like it’s nothing.

He tries to make it seem like his shift toward you is something he pays little attention to or doesn’t care about, but you know that this isn’t the case. He grows gentler with you both inside and outside of his bed, hand finding the space on your lower back as he moves carefully around you in public, palm lingering for a few seconds too long before it drops. He begins to put forth more effort toward cleaning you up when he’s done with you, smoothing his calloused hands over the aching muscles in your thighs and bum and running you a shower to wash the fluids from your skin. And his jade green eyes melt into something softer when he looks at you, his expression flat but his gaze cradling you within his vision as though you’re a priceless gem he’s just discovered, something that he must admire and protect.

Your fling with Toji no longer feels like a fling. Instead, his free time is opening up for you, his phone no longer pings with the names of foreign women, and he’s shamelessing telling you to stay with him as much as you possibly can. He acts so nonchalant about it, but you know it’s a sudden, yet pleasant change for the both of you.

What stuns you the most, however, during this steady transition in dynamics between the two of you is the way he first reacts to your rather rare instance of vulnerability. You’re exhausted, work tiring you to the point where you feel like practically collapsing to the ground face first, your mother nagging you about finding a more stable career, and your rent gradually rising with each passing month you spend in your apartment. You’re completely overwhelmed, feeling trapped within your own skin, and you’re so caught up in your stress that you forget Toji is visiting.

You open the door after you hear that familiar knock pattern of his and greet him with tired eyes and a slumped posture. He towers over you, eyes dragging over your figure to analyze your state. His brow quirks when he examines you, stepping into your apartment after you hold the door open for him. The moment he closes the door, he’s onto you.

“What’s the matter with you?” he poses the question lowly, tilting his head to get a better look at you with his hand on his hip.

That’s all it takes for you to break down.

Embarrassingly enough, you’re ducking your head and crying before him, shoulders tensing as your hands come to shield your face. Your gentle sobs wrack your frame, and you feel humiliated.

Toji’s eyes go wide as he looks at you, caught off guard. He isn’t sure if it’s something he has said that’s got you crying all of a sudden, but he feels his heart clench at the sight of you in pain.

“M’sorry,” you sniffle into your palms. “Rough week.”

You half expect the dark haired assassin to turn away and let you melt down on your own, promising to come back another time, but instead you feel strong arms envelope your figure and wrap you into his chest, holding you softly yet with security at the same time. Your shoulders jerk in shock before you’re crying again, the comfort of Toji’s hold absorbing you into his chest as you continue to weep into your hands. “Alright, girl,” he murmurs gruffly, tilting his chin down to rest his lips against your head. “Let it out.”

His hands, tinged with the blood of millions, gripped with the memory of gruesome deaths, caress tenderly over your back as he wraps you up tighter, sheltering you within his mass. You tremble as he holds you, chest quivering as you snivel in a distorted pattern. Toji can feel you twitching uncomfortably against him, trying to catch your breath.

“Breathe,” he instructs with firm consolation, his hand motion over your back soothing into circles. You whimper, attempting to follow the pace of his breaths that you feel rising in his broad chest. You quiver, struggling a bit more before your breaths ease into a steady pace that mimics his own. “That’s right, you got it. Nice and easy,” he says into your hair.

You nod stiffly against him, pushing your hands down from your face to wind tightly around his waist, sinking further into him. He lifts his chin to look down, trying to sneak a peek of your hidden face. He sighs, bending down to tuck his arm under your knees and keep the other firm against your back. Your arms adjust, winding around his neck and tucking your face into his shoulder as he carries you to your room.

He sits down on the edge of your bed, keeping you swaddled in his arms. He nods his head down to you, nudging against your forehead to urge you to look at him. You pull away and look up, teary (e/c) eyes swimming with sadness and weariness. Toji twists his lips up to the side, scar stretching with his movements, and he stares tenderly at you, lifting a knuckle to brush at the dampness on your cheeks. You shiver, unfamiliar with this delicate, attentive side to Toji. His face is hardened as though he’s mad, but the concern in his orbs and the fragility of his touch tells you otherwise, that he is only concentrated intensely.

His thumb wipes at the corner of your lips where a tear or two has drifted before inhaling slowly. “You all there with me, now?” he asks, his voice a low murmur, and you nod, suddenly feeling foolish. He hums in approval, fingers smoothing over your hair. “Good. Now who did this to ya?”

You shake your head slowly. “No one,” you tell him. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid.”

“Well, it can’t be stupid if it’s making your pretty self cry.” You gaze up at him with round doe eyes rimmed with pain. Toji didn’t know how much he hates the sight of you upset until now. “Out with it.”

You shrug, sniffling as you unwrap your arms from his neck and lower your hands into your lap, picking at your nails. “I’m just so tired,” you mutter. “Everything’s been so hectic, I haven’t had a chance to breathe.”

Toji’s eyes search your face as you avert your gaze, shrinking into yourself. “For how long?”

You shrug again. “A few months maybe.”

“You ‘been holding everything in for months?” he repeats incredulously. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I don’t know…” you frown, a single tear dribbling down your cheek when you blink. Toji’s chest tightens at the sight. “I’m used to pushing through, I guess. Plus, I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Toji’s brows pinch together as he marvels at your words. “Now that’s stupid,” he sighs. “What you need is a break.

“But I don’t get to take breaks. I have to work so that I can keep the lights on, and rent is due in two weeks but I still have-”

Toji ducks down to shut you up with a featherlike touch of his lips to yours. You stop, subconsciously returning the soft peck with a pout, his hand moving to cradle the side of your head. He pulls away, smirking lightly. “You talk too much.”

He’s then standing up, lifting you along with him, and turning around to lay you onto your sheets. He kneels down, pressing a kiss to your knee, taking off your socks and tossing them aside, then shrugging you out of your jacket. You watch him with slightly baffled red eyes as he touches you as though you’re going to break, each brush of his hand against your skin softer than the last.

He props up his hands on either side of your thighs on the bed, crouching to pepper soft kisses from your hip up to your abdomen, then over your chest to your collarbone and shoulder. He ducks to kiss your lips gently once more before pulling away to meet your eyes. “Don’t you move an inch from this bed, y’hear me?”

“Wh-”

“Don’t ask questions,” he interjects. His hand is gripping your cheek as he kisses you one last time before pushing himself off of your comforter and away from you. “I’ll be back. I’ll grab you some food, you just text me what you want.”

You ogle at him in awe, nose red as you sniff. “But… what about… tonight…?”

“Don’t stress about that. I gotta take care of you first.”

He tells you he’ll only be ten minutes and to text him your order before leaving your room.

You freeze up when you see him stick his head in your door.

“Oh, and let me take care of that rent for you. You just lay out the details when I get back,” he says, and then he’s gone, leaving you stunned and tear-stained. You did not expect Toji to react so swiftly or understandingly to your predicament. By the way he swept you up and held you, you would have thought that you’re his girl.

You sigh, sinking back into your pillow with a fuzzy feeling bursting in your chest. Who knew that Toji Fushiguro, the man of steel with cold, calculated brutality in the face of his targets, could be so compassionate?

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #anime #jjk #jjk fandom #jjk season 2 #jjk x you #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x you #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro fluff

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fxstpace · 18 days ago

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the subtle art of swinging (park sunghoon)

summary: park sunghoon is the spider-man. he's also your best friend. he's also hopelessly in love with you. between fighting crime and intercepting alien invasions, park sunghoon barely has the time to confess his feelings to you. lucky for him, you've got him covered.

or, five times park sunghoon tries to ask you out, and one time you ask him out instead.

pairing: spider-man!park sunghoon x fem!reader genres: fluff, mild angst, best friends to lovers!au, spider-man!au, college!au, attempts at comedy, idiots to idiots in love, 5 + 1 things word count: 5.0k

⇢ warnings: profanity, mentions of violence but absolutely nothing graphic ⇢ a/n: reposted from my old blog.

ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF SWINGING INTO A WALL

Park Sunghoon swears he isn’t trying to be stupid.

It’s just that when he sees you, his mouth dries up, the words he want to say get stuck on the tip of his tongue and he can’t force them out no matter what, he feels his brain turn to mush and his legs turn to jelly, and—

You’re laughing. At him.

All because he swung face-first into a goddamn brick wall.

You don’t even know it’s him—he has a mask made out of spandex covering his face, thankfully—but he saw you on the street, talking to the old lady who sells churros next to the sandwich place both of you love. He may have lost all directional sense after that, because one minute he’s watching you gesture animatedly while you converse with the shopkeeper, and the next he slams solidly into the brick-red compound of the building he was supposed to swing over.

At least his webbing is still intact.

Sunghoon’s pride, on the other hand? Completely, utterly shattered.

For a minute, there’s silence—a sort of muffled, hazy silence that blankets everyone, the kind that’s impossibly rare to come by in a city which never sleeps—and then every single person whips out their phones and takes pictures, giggling to themselves throughout. It’s not every day Spider-Man accidentally swings into a wall, after all.

Sunghoon can already picture the headlines: City’s Masked Superhero Can Fight Aliens But Is Apparently Blind When Confronted By A Gigantic Barricade. Or worse. He can hear J. Jonah Jameson’s voice in his head, bellowing into the cameras, “Breaking news everyone, this just in: Spidey has been caught lackin’! Is he truly good at his job or is he just a farce? We may never know.”

He peels his head off hard brick, contorting his neck to relieve all the cricks, and that’s when he makes direct eye contact with you.

He swears his heart stops beating—but it starts again in less than a second, starts rabbiting around like it always does when he sees you, before settling back down into its regular rhythm. It’s only then that he remembers his feet and fingers are still glued to the wall.

He pries them off, wincing at the hoots and hollers from the crowd, and glances at you again.

You have a few churros in your hand, wrapped neatly in butter paper—no doubt a gift from the old lady—and you have your phone in your hand. He watches your fingers fly rapidly over the screen, notices the slight tilt to your head, the way your tongue pokes out of your lips slightly, the amusement at his mishap still running through your veins.

He hears the ping of the notification through his mask before you even put your phone down.

The letters swim in front of his eyes, on the screen in front of him.

(11:36) Y/N: HOONIE!!!! u wont BELIEVE what i just saw!!!! I SAW SPIDERMAN CRASH INTO A WALL LMFAOOOO

Sunghoon winces. He should probably tell you that there’s a hyphen separating the words ‘spider’ and ‘man’, but he doesn’t want to burst your obvious elation at the city’s most prominent superhero’s accident. (Despite the fact that you’re the cause for him losing all

common sense, in the first place.)

He doesn’t get the chance to form another coherent thought before a yell from below gets his attention. Specifically because it’s your voice.

“Hey!” You have your hands placed on your waist, your bundle of churros tucked into the corner of your arm as you squint up at him. “Need some help getting down?”

Unlike the jeers of the onlookers with their phones still out, you don’t sound malicious at all. You sound genuinely concerned, as though he isn’t Spider-Man, who’s fought off a hundred different villains and rescued the earth from alien infestations. You talk to him like he’s just a regular guy who accidentally swung onto a building and now finds himself in this precarious position.

His chest warms at the thought. “No thanks!” he hollers back. “I’m good.”

He lets his feet loosen up, feels his muscles relax and then he pushes himself off the wall, letting the momentum pull him through a graceful somersault before he lands softly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” You ignore the passersby.

“I’m fine,” Sunghoon replies. “Are you okay?”

You look at him strangely, and Sunghoon can feel his cheeks heat up. “I’m not the one who almost broke my nose because I wasn’t looking at where I was going.”

Sunghoon shifts from one foot to the other, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You have a point, he supposes. He clears his throat. “Right, um. Thanks for offering to help me out.”

“No problem,” you reply easily, the corners of your lips rising upwards. “I’m glad you’re okay. Can’t have our city’s best line of defence get obliterated because of a wall.”

Sunghoon’s not sure whether he’s supposed to feel happy about the fact that you’re worried about him despite not knowing who he is or if he’s supposed to be embarrassed at you pointing out his lapse of attention.

“Listen,” he begins, feeling a rush of adrenaline surge through his veins, run its course throughout his body, and settle at his heart, “do you… maybe want to get some coffee with me? As a thank you. For offering to help.”

You raise an eyebrow sceptically. “I’m not sure that warrants a coffee date.”

“It’s not,” Sunghoon hurriedly says, heart thumping erratically, “I swear. I just want to thank you.”

You purse your lips, drawing out a sigh that’s in between contemplation and refusal. Sunghoon’s heart sinks—he knows that expression of yours all too well. “I’m sorry, Spider-Man. You’re a great superhero and I’m sure you’re a really nice person behind the mask, but… I’m actually running late for a meet-up with my best friend. I’m sorry.” You shrug apologetically. “Maybe next time.”

“Okay, uh—” Sunghoon licks his lips— “n-no worries. I’ll see you around.”

“Break a leg, Spider-Man.” You salute him with two fingers. “Not literally, but you know what I mean.”

He manages a smile, then realises you can’t see it through his mask—and then realises that the friend who’s meet-up you’re running late to is with him, so he’s going to see you again, anyway. The thought makes him smile again, this time wider, and he can feel his cheeks crinkle at the corners.

He stretches an arm out, presses his web shooter and swings onto the top of the building. Maybe he’ll have to deal with you retelling the story of how he crashed into a wall with extreme detail and lots of exaggeration, and Sunghoon should probably feel extremely embarrassed about it. Instead, he finds himself looking forward to it.

Maybe he should crash into walls more often.

TWO — THE SUBTLE ART OF ACCIDENTALLY ASKING YOUR PROFESSOR OUT

Park Sunghoon is decidedly fucked.

He’s late—unbearably so—but what else is he supposed to do if a platoon of aliens show up in the middle of his Introduction to Organic Chemistry class and he has to stop them from blowing up the president’s summer retreat? Once the situation is wrapped up and the foreign visitors agree to sign a peace treaty with earth, he’s effectively missed three classes, skipped lunch, and is currently running late to a study session you planned out after classes.

He supposes he can make up for it—he’s not sure how, but… something is better than nothing, right? He swings down in front of a flower shop, hurriedly asks for a bouquet and a box of chocolates, places a wad of money bills on the counter and swings away. The whole interaction takes place in less than fifteen minutes, but Sunghoon is in a hurry. He has a slew of texts from you, all detailing the same thing: That if he doesn’t magically appear in the next ten minutes, you’re leaving, and you better make it up to him somehow.

Sunghoon touches down on the rooftop of your university’s library and quickly removes his Spider-Man suit, stuffing it into his backpack and shouldering it. He heads down the fire escape, taking two steps at a time, and comes to a standstill in front of the Biology section of the library. It’s the least crowded part of the library, which is why you and Sunghoon have chosen it as your designated spot.

He sees you immediately and braces himself for the telltale quickening of his heart. You smile at him as soon as you spot him, raising a hand in greeting. Books and sheets of paper are scattered around the table in front of you, and your hair is messy, swept up hastily. You’re wearing your favourite sweater with the coffee stain down the front, because even though it’s not something you would wear in public, it’s still the most comfortable piece of clothing you own.

Sunghoon’s lips curl upwards on their own accord. The words form on the tip of his tongue, as they always do. He wants to tell you—he’s been in love with you since he first laid eyes on you—and it would be so easy to confess right then and there. He walks towards you.

Fate is never kind to him, it seems.

Sunghoon keeps his eyes fixed on you, which is why he doesn’t notice his Organic Chemistry professor walk right across him.

In his defence, Professor Kwon is short, with a head full of bountiful grey curls and a pink flower-patterned umbrella always tucked underneath her arm. She barely comes up to Sunghoon’s shoulders, so she’s never in Sunghoon’s line of vision unless he’s sitting down.

It’s no wonder he collides into her.

Professor Kwon lets out a startled “Ooh!”, the stack of papers in her hand flying out of grip and falling around him and his teacher like snowflakes on a winter morning. She twists her lips at him, mouth downturned like she just sucked a lemon raw, and tuts disapprovingly at him.

Sunghoon feels his cheeks blaze as he bends down and gathers all the loose sheets of paper and stacks them. He doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re gleefully watching the whole encounter. He tucks the bouquet and chocolates into the crook of his arm and hands the stack of papers to Professor Kwon, mumbling an apology.

“Well, you better be sorry,” she says, looking up and down at him—except she has to crane her neck at him to meet his eyes, and the sight is so hilarious, Sunghoon needs to stifle his laughter. Then her eyes narrow in recognition, and Sunghoon stiffens, dread pooling in his stomach.

She pauses for a minute. “Aren’t you the young man who ran out halfway through my class? Is your stomach feeling better now?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see you snort and then cover it up as a cough.

Sunghoon wants to melt into the floor, pretend like he’s one of the tiles on the ground. “Yes ma’am,” he answers politely instead, hoping his voice doesn’t betray him.

“Hmm.” She scrutinises him carefully, reaching out with her free hand and pinching his stomach. “Indigestion is a serious issue, young man. Make sure you have enough ginger in your diet—it helps with your toilet problems.”

“I will, ma’am.”

“Now, how do you plan to make up for your lost lesson?”

Sunghoon licks his lips. “I’m… not sure, ma’am. I could come over for a remedial class—”

“Oh, please. You insult me.” Professor Kwon lets out a giggle. “Remedial classes are such mediaeval methods. These days teachers will let anything go for a small price. Young, handsome men like you especially…”

Sunghoon nearly chokes on his own spit. “I—”

“Just some flowers and chocolates will be fine,” his teacher waves him off good-naturedly, as though this is a conversation she has all the time. Her eyes land pointedly on the flowers and the chocolate box still tucked safely in his arms.

“Oh. Um.” Sunghoon curses his luck. He’s Spider-Man, after all—shouldn’t he get some slack? All he wants is to ask you out, and if not that, at least spend some time with you without getting caught up in outworldly situations all the time.

Professor Kwon’s expression turns serious upon noticing his hesitation. “Of course, not every teacher is as lenient as I’m being. Some would—and I’m really just throwing it out here—assign compensatory essays, or—”

He hurriedly shoves the bouquet and the chocolates into Professor Kwon’s waiting arms.

“No, ma’am. Thank you very much for being so kind to me.”

“Not a bother, not a bother,” she waves him off again, smiling thinly at him. “Anything for my students.”

Sunghoon bows and waits patiently for her to skitter away from him, finally letting out a loose breath that has his shoulders slumping forward and his head hanging dejectedly. He drags himself to your table, places his bag on the desk, and buries his head into his arms in such a way that half his upper body is spread-eagled across the wooden desk. A tired, muffled groan escapes his lips.

“Rough day?” Your voice is soft, and you tentatively reach out and gently run a hand through his hair.

Sunghoon lets out another groan in response, closing his eyes when he feels your touch. He lifts up his head and props his chin on the desk, glancing at you. You have a soft smile playing on your lips, eyes twinkling.

“You recorded all of that, didn’t you?” It’s more a statement than a question; Sunghoon has all your tendencies mapped out in his head, and you would never pass up on an opportunity to record his humiliation.

“Yup.” You grin at him, patting your pocket where your phone is stowed away. “I won’t show it to anyone, don’t worry.”

It’s a small consolation. He decides to let it slide. “By the way, the flowers and the chocolates were for you. To apologise for being late.”

“Oh.” To Sunghoon’s surprise, you sound… bashful, almost. His heart skitters at the revelation. “That’s alright. I’m not a big fan of flowers anyway. Are you hungry? You skipped lunch, too, didn’t you? We could go get some ramen.”

“That sounds good.” Sunghoon smiles wearily at you. He just hopes there isn’t another national emergency to divert his attention from you and the time he gets to spend with you.

THREE — THE SUBTLE ART OF ALMOST DATING YOUR HOMIE

Sunghoon’s not sure his roommate, Lee Heeseung, is completely normal.

He’s the only one who knows about Sunghoon’s secret identity, and Sunghoon relies on him to make up some believable reason for his often and sudden disappearances. The last time, when he had to escape in the middle of his Organic Chemistry class and that whole debacle with Professor Kwon took place, Heeseung had said Sunghoon had indigestion. He assumes his roommate has fun coming up with excuses. As long as his secret remains safe, Sunghoon’s not too concerned.

Despite all the help Heeseung has provided him with, he wants nothing more than to toss him over their shared apartment’s balcony.

For the past half an hour, he’s been consistently badgering him. Specifically about you.

“Have you told her you like her yet?”

The question drags a tired sigh out of Sunghoon’s lips. He’s hunched over his Physics textbook, scribbling down notes, and he could really appreciate some peace—but that’s not something he should expect when he lives with the human equivalent of a hamster on a wheel.

“No, Heeseung,” he reiterates, “I haven’t had the time.”

Heeseung flops dramatically across the couch. “Dude. You need serious help.”

“Do I?” Sunghoon murmurs absent-mindedly, wondering how to calculate the coefficient of friction with the variables he’s been given.

“Yes.” When he notices his roommate not paying attention to him, Heeseung rolls his eyes. “Stop doing homework, you have more important matters to attend to.”

Sunghoon finally tears his tired gaze away from the numericals printed out on the page. He locks eyes with Heeseung, barely aware of the tic in his left eye. “Like what?”

His roommate throws his hands up in the air exasperatedly. “Like Y/N! And the fact that you’re in love with her!”

“Okay.”

“This isn’t going to work. C’mere.” He gestures to Sunghoon to come sit next to him on the couch. Once he makes his way to the couch and sits next to him, Heeseung takes both his hands in his. “Consider this an intervention.”

Sunghoon leans back and lets his head fall against the couch cushions. This is going to be good.

“Okay, so,” Heeseung begins, “she doesn’t know you’re Spider-Man—no one knows that except me—but you love her, don’t you? Just walk up to her, tell her you can show her something she’s never seen before, swing her up to a rooftop somewhere, and watch the sunset with her. Tell her you love her and that you can’t live without her, and your heart beats only for her—trust me, girls love romantic stuff like that—and then tell her you’re also Spider-Man. Easy.”

All Sunghoon can do is laugh. There’s no way Heeseung is serious about this.

“I’m being serious,” Heeseung says. “How long are you going to keep hiding this from her? Y/N’s your best friend, don’t you think you should tell her that you’re basically in mortal peril every other day?”

“That’s exactly why I’m not telling her,” Sunghoon says. “What if some villain finds out she’s special to me and does something to her to get back at me?”

His friend looks dubious. “You really think that could happen?”

“Yes.” Sunghoon turns his head to look at Heeseung. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you either.”

Heeseung chews his lip thoughtfully. “I kind of see what you mean. But…” He squeezes Sunghoon’s hand once, gently. “It’s Y/N. I think she would want to know.”

Sunghoon considers it—for a brief half-minute, he actually thinks about it—and then shakes his head. “It’s better to keep her safe.”

You have the worst possible timing. (Perhaps it’s Sunghoon’s fault for having given you a spare key to his apartment.)

The door swings open and you walk into the living room, two bags of takeaway in your hand. “Guess who’s got food!”

Then you pause, survey the situation in front of you, and your jaw drops.

Sunghoon and Heeseung, both on the couch, sitting so close to each other, their knees are brushing. Sunghoon’s hands are still being held by Heeseung, the latter rubbing circles on his palm. Belatedly, Sunghoon realises what this must look like to you.

He shoots up to his feet. “Y/N, it’s not what you think—”

“Oh my God.” You raise your arms. “Am I interrupting something? I’m so sorry, I had no idea! I’ll just—”

“No, wait! Heeseung and I, we’re not—”

“No, no, it’s okay!” Your repeated reassurances don’t do anything to assure him. “You guys look good together! Congratulations on graduating from cherry boy university, Hoon!”

Sunghoon lowers his head, crimson creeping up his cheeks. He turns around and faces Heeseung, who’s busy snickering on the couch. “This is all your fault.”

You look between them curiously. “Are you both dating?”

“No,” Sunghoon says at the same time Heeseung says, “Possibly.”

He glares at his friend. “No, Y/N, we are not together. Heeseung knows I like someone else.”

“You like someone else?”

There’s the barest hint of hurt in your tone, a slight hitch in your voice that Sunghoon picks up on easily. “I—yes.”

“You never told me.”

Your voice is carefully calm and you fiddle with the handle of the takeaway bags. Sunghoon winces; he takes a step forward and grabs your elbow, gently forcing you to look up at him. “I was going to tell you. I just… forgot.”

It's the worst possible excuse he could come up with. Your eyes harden. Thankfully, Heeseung swoops in. “He’ll tell you soon, Y/N. He just never has good timing.”

You poke your tongue in the inside of your cheek. “It… doesn’t matter. I brought Chinese,” you say, lips pursed into a threadbare smile, “so all that’s left is to pick the movie.”

You move into the living room and playfully poke Heeseung’s legs to make space. Sunghoon closes the door behind you, a heavy feeling in his gut.

He’s fucked up. Big time. No matter what, he can’t get the look of dejectedness on your face out of his mind.

Sunghoon decides he’s going to tell you. Somehow. Even if you don’t return his feelings, at least he’ll be free of the burden of keeping them hidden.

With new conviction in his head, he strides over to where you are.

FOUR — THE SUBTLE ART OF GETTING HIT ON

Sunghoon loves you—he really does—but despite his obvious affection towards you, he still thinks you’re acting slightly (read: extremely) delusional.

“A… Spider-Man love blog?” he asks weakly, sitting opposite you.

“Yeah!” You nod your head vigorously, obviously excited. “J. Jonah Jameson started a Spider-Man conspiracy theory blog, so I figured I need to start a blog to support Spider-Man and all his endeavours. Too much hate is a bad thing, and… well, he is kind of hot. Objectively speaking.”

Sunghoon doesn’t know whether to grimace at the fact that J. Jonah Jameson started a page on conspiracy theories about him, laugh at the fact that you want to start a blog to support him, or melt like an ice cream on a hot summer afternoon at the fact that you just called him objectively hot.

He tries to do a mixture of all three. You glance at him, concerned. “Did you just have a stroke or something?”

Sunghoon purses his lips together, going back to his usual deadpan expression. “I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you say dismissively. “Well, what do you think of the blog idea?”

“I think it’s a good idea,” Sunghoon agrees. “It’s like a little Spider-Man support group. Except you aren’t suffering from addiction.”

“Exactly!” you agree, perking up even more. “That’s actually a really cool slogan, thanks Hoon.”

“No problem.” Sunghoon feels his mouth dry, but before he can second guess himself, he says, “Hey, you said Spider-Man is hot?”

“Hm? Yeah, what about it?”

“You know who else is hot?”

“Tom Holland?” Your eyes widen excitedly. “Oh, I know! Andrew Garfield!”

“No—I mean, yes but—” Sunghoon heaves out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I wasn’t talking about them.”

You cock your head to the side. “Who do you mean, then?”

He takes in a deep breath, forcing his heart to calm down. “I was talking about—”

He’s about to say you when the fire alarm rings. You stand up, eyes widening—not with excitement, but with panic flaring up inside you. Sunghoon stands up too; how did he not notice something was off? The hair at the back of his neck tingles. He needs to get you out of here—now.

“Y/N,” he says hurriedly, “you need to leave. Go out the fire escape.” He shoves you none too gently towards the fire escape, but you stumble forward and then stop.

“Hoon,” you say, and he can hear the mounting fear in your voice, “what about you?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he assures. A series of bangs follows his statement, and he narrows his eyes at the direction of the sound. “But you need to leave. Now.”

You open your mouth to say something, but when you hear a loud clang echo down the stairwell, you close your mouth and run towards the staircase. Sunghoon waits for you to disappear from his sight, before turning on his heel and grabbing his suit from his bag.

God, supervillains really have the worst timing. All Sunghoon wanted to do was tell you he thought you were hot, too, but that he found you more beautiful than anything else.

FIVE — THE SUBTLE ART OF EXPOSING YOUR CRUSH

Sunghoon is so, so tired.

He lands in front of a small, quiet lake in a park you used to come to with him. The ambience is perfect for when you want to spend time alone, in solitude. A family of ducks paddles gently over the water; it’s peaceful and serene—completely unlike the destruction he just had to deal with, and the turbulence currently running through his mind.

He pulls his mask off his head and runs a tired hand through his hair. Wearily, he sinks down onto the grass, feeling the cool breeze caress his skin and the rustle of the leaves of the giant tree under whose shade he’s sitting.

He blinks once, slowly, and then again, and when a duck lets out a quack, he opens his mouth and lets everything spill out, like sand pouring through an overturned hourglass.

(He’s aware he’s talking to ducks. He doesn’t care.)

“Screw this shit. I never wanted to be a hero, you hear me? I never wanted to be bitten by a stupid spider, I didn’t ask for all this—I didn’t ask for all this! God, what does a guy need to do to have some time to tell his best friend he’s in love with her?!”

His rant falls on silent ears—but then, he hears the crunch of dried leaves, and he whips around.

Your head pokes out from behind the tree trunk. “Hoon?”

“Y/N,” he breathes out, scrambling to his feet. “What are you—”

“You said you’d be right behind me!” Despite the false bravado in your voice, he can hear how wobbly you actually sound.

“I-I was. Technically.” He takes a tentative step towards you, one arm stretched out placatingly.

“You never told me you were Spider-Man!” Your voice increases in pitch steadily with each word.

“I didn’t tell you to protect you—”

“Oh my God, you were in mortal peril every day and I didn’t even know!”

“Heeseung said the same thing, but—”

“Heeseung knew all along, of course he did!”

“I only told him because—”

“And—and now you’re telling me you’re in love with me!”

“Okay, I wasn’t telling you, I was telling the ducks, but—”

“Sunghoon!” You throw your hands up in the air wildly, gaze roaming rapidly across his face. “You’re in love with me!”

He sucks in a breath sharply. “I feel like that’s not the most important thing here.”

Of all the ways he thought he would confess to you, this is decidedly not something that crossed his mind even once. He’d always pictured flowers, holding your hand, maybe even a romantic stroll down this very park. He’d certainly never imagined you’d find out about both his secrets on the same day—all while he was busy ranting about his hero complex to a bunch of birds who didn’t pay him any attention.

“Y/N,” he tries again, “please let me explain.”

You shake your head. “No. There’s nothing there to explain.”

With that, you turn away and walk past him. Sunghoon’s heart sinks. He crumples the material of the mask in his hand, feeling the cloth twist underneath his fingertips just like his heart twists into knots with every step you take away from him.

PLUS ONE — THE SUBTLE ART OF KISSING YOUR BEST FRIEND

You have Sunghoon cornered, your arms crossed across your chest and your expression stern. “You need to listen to me.”

Sunghoon gulps. It’s been a week since he accidentally let both his secrets slip, and this is the first time he’s talking to you in person since then. You’d sent him a text with a simple message. Library, first thing after lunch. Sunghoon had complied, and here he is now.

“So. Heeseung explained everything to me,” you say.

“He—he did?”

You glance at him shortly. “Yeah, he did. I… I understand why you didn’t tell me about—about your condition, Hoon. I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to explain yourself.”

“It’s okay,” he replies immediately. “If I found out my best friend was a secret vigilante risking his life every day, I think I’d react the same way.”

You smile at him then, and his heart jumps inside his chest. He smiles back. “But that’s not the main reason I called you here,” you continue. “What I really called you here for was…”

You trail off, looking down, and Sunghoon is hit with a sudden sense of nostalgia. Why are you being so bashful around him all of a sudden? “Was…” he gently prompts.

You swallow, lifting up your chin and looking him in the eye. “I wanted to tell you that I’m in love with you too.”

Park Sunghoon swears time stops, and the whole world comes to a standstill. The words ring in his ears, echoing inside his head. His lips part, and he stares at you, flabbergasted.

“I—Say that again.” His voice is barely more than a whisper.

He sees the flicker in your eyes, notices how you’re ready to compete with him for this. “I love you, Park Sunghoon. I don’t care about the fact that you’re Spider-Man.”

Sunghoon takes a step towards you, holding your shoulders gently, like you’re made of glass. “I love you too.”

You grin at him, your own arms encircling his waist and coming to rest on his back. “I know that.”

And then you tip your head forward and capture his lips with your own. He gasps at first, before kissing you back with equal force, one hand tugging you closer to him and the other curving around your torso.

You giggle into the kiss, and Sunghoon’s lips twitch upwards. He’s giddy, weightless, floating through the air like a feather being carried by the wind. The feeling he gets when he’s swooping through the rooftops of the city is nothing compared to the feeling of your lips slotted against his and his arms wrapped around you.

Park Sunghoon swears he doesn’t try to act stupid normally. But if it makes you smile, he’s willing to do anything.

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