#do you see. how Pretty they are im devastated

[realrosielol]

WE GOT A SHIMAO COVER

[donaviolet]

Friendship is the most special thing in the world because no award could be give me bigger happiness than jumping around in my room and smiling because my pookie asked me if I wanted to match pfps

[lilac-set]

Hello monogamous people. Genuine question: why does cheating suck?

[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

[velvetwyrme]

which deception would have an sti AND fuck cars?

in reference to: https://www.tumblr.com/penny-anna/767952128217104384/imagine-youre-a-mechanic-in-the-transformers?source=share

okay. so. first off. anon, thank you for sending me this because the idea that you read that post and just went- "hey, you know who i should pose this question to?" and sent it to me- is hysterical and i lvoe u.

anyway theres also a Texty answer under the cut if you want to read that, because i genuinely DO have thoughts about this, but i wanted to draw that comic because this ask made me laugh very hard when i saw it in my inbox.

also, the thrilling conclusion of the comic answer:

he fucked that car!!!!!!!

hi! Texty time. I think a lot of them would have/be one but not the other (either has a STI or is a Carfucker) but i included some of those here anyway because i think my thought process was funny for some of them. this is all purely my own opinions etc. etc. no basis for anything only vibes. i went through a lot of options and came to a lot of conclusions.

to reiterate the Chart for claritys sake:

Soundwave: No STI and no Carfucking. This is true across all versions of Soundwave imo. Rumble and Frenzy are a solid no on the STI front and a solid yes on the Carfucking.

Starscream: no STI, no Carfucking (despite what Soundwave thinks). TFP!Starscream specifically might have an STI though. Sorry man. Skywarp definitely has/had a STI but gets it treated on account of his trinemates. No Carfucking. Thundercracker would fuck a car but doesn't have an STI.

Shockwave: ??? - I'm not sure I want to know. "Once, as part of an experiment" was the original thing I wrote for his answer lol. True across continuities as well.

Anyway. moving on...

My actual answer for Megatron: REALLY depends on continuity. Here's a sample:

G1? Yeah, probably both. I can see it.

IDW/MTMTE? Nah. Maybe? ... Nah. I feel like if he had an STI it'd have been back when he was a miner. Would not fuck a car.

Earthspark? I feel like no STI but yes to the Carfucking. Except he feels really guilty about it after. I still haven't watched ES but this is the impression I get from him.

TFA? oh god. i don't know... i don't know....... he probably fucks cars. No STI.

TFP? Yeah absolutely are u kidding me? Yes to both.

Constructicons: I feel like they'd be a yes to both, but not at the same time, so they wouldn't have been the one/s to transmit a STI to a car. Also Hook would be ON TOP of treatment. Once they ALL got infected after combining into Devastator, and that was miserable for everyone. Nobody has fessed up to being the one who had it in the first place, but now they have treatment on hand just in case.

Also while on the topic of combiners... I think some of the Stunticons are also pretty good candidates for STI/Carfucking. Motormaster, Drag Strip and Wildrider in particular shfkgbekfbk

I considered Tarn/The DJD and Overlord just because of how freaky them guys can get, but I think Tarn runs too tight a ship for that to happen, and Overlord is preoccupied with. worse things. The Scavengers on the other hand... sorry to Misfire, I can see him giving a car a STI. Relatedly, Grimlock would fuck a car but not have an STI.

Who else................................ wait.

Astrotrain. I can see it. Okay bye im going to sleep this took me too long to reply to fhfjfbrmfbdj

[funlovinzara]

Monster trio rejecting you Pt.2

The long awaited part 2! I absolutely loved writing Zoros part🙏

Warnings: angst, a bit of fluff

———-

Luffy

Surprisingly it wasn’t as hard to get over him because you knew he was just a knuckle head like that

On your new adventures you met new people, one specifically caught your eye.

Ace.

Ace was caring, funny, charming and very welcoming to be around. You both shared contacts on a transponder snail and talked 24/7, 365. Everyone knew the bond you had and left it alone, except luffy. He always saw you speaking on the snail but never knew who was on the other side.

The crew made a stop to a new island but everyone was waiting for you, who was talking on the transponder snail in your room.

“Finally a new adventure!! Lets go-!”

“LUFFY! Wait we cant leave without y/n!! This island is larger than anything we’ve ever seen before and ANYONE can get lost anytime!!” Said chopper

Luffy sighed in annoyance and stomped off to your room and busted in

“Y/N!! LETS GO ALREADY!!” He yells with his chest

You jump in fear and quickly whisper to the other side of the snail “i gotta go!” And hung up.

“Who are you always talking to on that thing anyway?”

You sigh in defeat and answer “Ace, i talk to ace.”

“Ace? Huh? Why?”

“Well, I think he’s pretty cool and i like him.”

“I thought you liked me?”

“What?”

“You cant like-like me and like-like Ace? I thought we were just starting to get closer?”

You have a dumbfounded look on your face and you laugh at the misunderstanding. Maybe he understood after all, but i wonder why he would hide it.”

———

Sanji

Of course it was ALOT more difficult to get over him. You were devastated at how unreasonable he was, it was ridiculous.

So you decided to just not respond often when Sanji would speak to you, it was pointless anyway. He was still trying to pick up a conversation even after all that.

Sanji had a really bad dream one night, it was him re-experiencing the events at Sabaody, you werent there during that time but he dreamt that you were.

He woke up inna horrible cold sweat and immediately walked to the front of the ship, he needed some air. However when he walked out to see his crew doing there normal shenanigans, something was off.

He looks over at you to see you chatting, with brook?? How come your more comfortable around brook than him? He was an even bigger pervert than him.

“Y/n, may i see your pant-.” You swat brook on the side of his arm and slightly yell/giggle “no way brook!”

You clear your throat and begin to say “Thank you brook for helping me get over Sanji though, its really nice to have someone to talk to when no one else is around.” You leaned in and gave brook a deep hug.

“YOHOHOHOHO! Y/n it is a pleasure!! You flatter me, im blushing!! Although i am a skeleton so i cant really blush!! Yohoho!”

He hugs back and swings you around and you both laugh in glee. Sanji saw all of this and he thought, what did he even do wrong.

————

Zoro

In this you ARE included in the Sabaody Arc

It was VERY difficult to get over Zoro especially since he would never talk to you anymore. Nami being the jerk she was partnered you and Zoro together to walk around. She said it was for the “bonding experience”

She kept trying to bring back the spark that you and Zoro had but it will never work anymore.

You heard that day there was going to be an auction so you left to go check it out, you found the auction house and decided to take a seat not paying attention to your surroundings.

“X’cuse me?” Said a man next to you. It startled you and you jump. turning your head to look at him.

“That seat isn’t for you.”

His voice was DEEP.

“Oh- ill move- sorry.” A bear in a seat behind him leans over and says. “Come on boss lets let her stay! Shes really pretty!”

“Bepo-.” “Pleaseee!! Come on you need more allies than foes in this place anyway!”

The man grunts, allowing you to sit down again once more. “Law. Trafalgar D. Law.”

“Y/n L/n.”

“Nice to meet’cha Y/N!”

“You’re a straw-hat aren’t you? Hmh. What a tease your Captain isnt first here.”

You chuckle a bit scared at the power law might consist..

Zoro searches nearly the whole place for you, and finally lands at the auction house, he busts in and frantically looks around. He sees you sitting with a man, he cant see his face but he sure can see yours. And your enjoying yourself, this sets something off in him.

Him being your ex-best-friend and all, Hes only used to seeing him make you laugh, but this. This is so different and weird, why does he care?

[strwberri-milk]

can i request the boys thinking mc is cheating bc she’s been acting off and hanging with other people, then they confront her but learn later that it’s something else that’s been going on (like her wanting to keep a problem hidden from them) angsty or fluffy ending it’s up to you im just craving angst 😓

Zayne doesn't want to directly confront you. He's terrified that somehow, he'll mess everything up and that right now, not knowing is better than confirming his fear. He'll just continue observing you for a bit, trying to figure out if there's something that can definitively point towards you actually having an affair. Your behaviour is strange but he won't feel too concerned until you start actively pulling affection away from him. That's when he's going to really start panicking. He doesn't know what he's done or said to make you take such a drastic step in your relationship and this is absolutely going to devastate him.

He'll talk to you one evening after you come home late. He tries to open it up by telling you that if it's something he's said or done to you then he's sorry and he promises he'll do whatever it takes to fix things between the two of you. It's you, and it's always been you. He can't even fathom being with anybody that isn't you. He'll ramble a little for once, not really able to accurately use his words as he tries to express how much he loves you.

You realise very quickly where he's going with all of this, immediately shutting him down as you tell him that you aren't seeing somebody else. He listens with bated breath to try and comprehend everything you're telling him, praying that you aren't lying to him because if you were, it'd definitely break him.

You'd probably have to ruin the surprise if you wanted him to feel fully secure after this conversation, especially since you also were hanging off of people when you normally don't seem to. He might feel a little insecure about your relationship for a while before settling into the routine again with you, but as long as you're wholly honest with him it'll pass fairly quickly.

Xavier wants to follow you around but he also knows it'd piss you off if he did. He'll just start paying more attention to events when the two of you are together and even more attention to things if it seems you're purposefully not inviting him to something. He's trying to understand why and what for, not wanting to directly accuse you but his jealousy definitely ramps up.

You'd have to talk to him as he slowly starts to escalate, becoming more pissy if you have plans with friends or when he responds poorly to you taking calls in his presence. He doesn't really say too much but he does make it very clear just how displeased he is with the look on his face or the way he practically grabs you whenever you're doing things with him.

He gets a little rougher with you overall - not in a painful way, in a distracted, irritated way. He doesn't want to hurt you on purpose and typically you don't really respond to this difference in pressure because it's nothing crazy but you can tell that he's starting to really internalise everything that's happening around him. When you do talk to him he listens with a furrow in his brow, trying to figure out if you're telling him the truth, or this is some elaborate lie for you to throw him off your scent.

He believes you pretty quickly but he is also going to be really skeevy about letting you do things without him for a bit. He just wants to spend time with you after all and after all this emotional turmoil you owe him a few stress-free dates.

Rafayel is not pleased. He makes it clear the second he thinks something is wrong by being colder and less affectionate with you. He isn't wholly above following you and figuring out who you're hanging out with, trying to figure out if there really is a chance that you are trying to have an affair.

You'd get some emotional whiplash from how differently he's acting, how he's making it clear that you've wronged him somehow but he isn't going to talk to you about it. He's avoidant, waiting for you to admit the truth. He's also patient, which means you could be iced out for weeks if you decide not to talk to him about what's happening.

He might spoil the surprise for himself if he goes fully into surveillance after which he'd just tell you that he figured out what you were hiding from him. You'd be a little disappointed but also more concerned as to how he managed to figure it out without tipping you off. He won't tell you at all about how he got the information - just that he did.

If he decides not to stalk you a little you'd have to ask him why he's so mad at you. He'd tell you that he's just treating you the same way you've been treating him, and that as far as he's concerned, this is deserved. You'd have to tell him the truth and why you've been hiding all this information from him - after which he will brighten up significantly. He'll say something about how he's never doubted you, yadda yadda yadda but he's definitely more clingy now than before from his nerves finally starting to settle.

Sylus doesn't want to monitor you either and decides to give you the benefit of the doubt. He's fairly secure in your relationship and knows that he hasn't done anything to make you want to cheat but he does feel himself faltering if you're becoming prone to laughing at your phone or trying to hide it from him. He won't ask for it but you can see that he's starting to get suspicious.

He would leave it alone until you reveal to him your surprise. By then he's still feeling fairly anxious but when you reveal that your behaviour was all just a result of you trying to plan something for him then he'll relax a little, thanking you for the effort you went through. You can tell that he's very glad that you've finally come clean when he holds your hand tightly, practically clinging to you as he thanks you.

He'll plan some more elaborate dates for you after the reveal, making it clear that he's missed your attention being solely on him. You don't really mind though since he's basically throwing money at you, spoiling you silly and reminding you just how much he's willing to do for you.

[atimelessheaven]

could u write some dating paige headcanons where the reader has depression/bpd??

PAIGE HEADCANONS

sorry this took me forever to finish, i’ve been traveling, and never made headcanons before. i hope you like these. if not let me know and i can retry!

thank you @yailtsv for help with this, and for the header!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

• always making sure to take care of you whenever you aren’t capable

- “baby open up, i gotta keep your pretty smile pearly white” paige would say as she brushed your teeth for you on the days you couldn’t get out of bed.

- “here pretty girl, i have a new hoodie, and shorts for you. do you need me to help you change?” paige would always kindly ask so you know she’s there to help you, but also not feel pressured in your most vulnerable state to show yourself, even in a non sexual way.

- “sweet girl can i braid your hair please? i don’t want it to get tangled. i know how much you love your hair.” always being so considerate of what now you couldn’t care less about, but what the future you’d be devastated about. knowing you loved your hair, and felt prettiest with it done, paige always made sure it was managed.

• paige always set small goals for you to accomplish them brought the day/week so you could feel proud of yourself. never failing to praise you for reaching them, and uplifting you when you can’t, or need a little help to.

- “baby i’m so so proud of you! i know getting up to wash your face is a challenge. i’m so happy for you!”

- “sweet girl it’s time to take your meds again” paige would always say to remind you. you hated taking them. “i already took them today.” you said very confidently. “aww baby i’m so proud of you! i know how much you hate doing that. i’m so happy for you! i knew you could do it.” paige said smiling so hard and going to give you a hug.

- “woah baby don’t cry. what’s going on?” paige said concerned seeing you crying with your computer in hand. “i can’t do this assignment, and it’s due tomorrow morning, and im already stressed out, im going to fail. i promise i was trying” you said sobbing. “i believe you baby. i know you’re trying, and im so unbelievably proud of you for trying. can i try to help you?” she always knew exactly what you needed to hear, and always was perfect about helping you.

• always making sure to reset your room when you were forced to leave your dorm for class, and also making sure you left your room at least once every three days outside of class.

- “aww paige you really didn’t have to clean my mess. i was going to get around to it.” you said tearing up looking at your now spotless room, that was once an accurate depiction of your brain. dull, lifeless, and a mess. “i know you would’ve. i just wanted to help you out. it was really no problem. i do this stuff for you because i love you.” she said pulling you onto your bed with her so she could hold you.

- “baby girl i know you really don’t want to leave your room, but i think you need some fresh air. how about the gas station? you and me. a ten minute walk. we get some snacks, come back and watch a movie?” paige said trying to convince you to leave your room after you were adamant for the last 20 minutes you didn’t want to. “fine. but i want peach rings.” “i think we can make that work”

[seungkwanniee]

pairings : boyfriend!seventeen x gn!reader

genre : fluffyy, lil angst

warnings : mention of food , half naked body (joshua) , cuss word (jun)

synopsis : seventeen coaxing their s.o. after making you upset before bed time

hyung line ,, maknae line [soon]

an : this is a request from anon, hope you'll like it ! sorry if this took awhile but school is giving me hard time that at the end of the day im not in the mood to write smt. I decided to separate hyung and maknae line so I could post more quickly to feed yall. ALSO as a directioner im DEVASTED these days so yeah that wasn't the best timing so start writing again, this also didn't let me to keep up with svt comeback shedule 😭

〔masterlist〕

SCOUPS ���

i think that seungcheol doesn't have an high pride at all, so it's pretty easy tho

and, come on, he is Choi Seungcheol how you can even resist to him

when after a long day and he finally comes back home he is straight coming up to you

even if you leave the spot immediatly, he will follow you around pouting

but your plans of ignoring him doesn't end well

you heart flutter by just hearing his voice because you are too in love with him

and when a smile accidentally slips out of your mouth, its when he knows you are all his

he picks you up, unconfortably laying you on his shoulders and walks into your shared room

roughly dropping you on the bed laying next to you asap

i know he has a thing for you hair, so he plays with it a lot

wrapping around his finger, smelling them and softly kissing them

has a BIG thing also for your neck so he never let it breath

JEONGHAN 』

he is not taking seriously any argouments and this makes you only angrier

but he really enjoy seeing you angry so anyway it doesn't matter to him

but when he thought he had enough for the day, he transform into a baby

he is following you around the house trying to cling into your side

and when you lay on the bed because it was almost midnight he find the best ways to cling you

he would immediatly hug you so tight without mincing words

KISSES ON YOUR NECK UUGH

driving you so insane with his angelic and innocent face

and his sooo cute voice saying 'sorry' nonstop

when you can't hold your smile in anymore, he is giggling uncotrollably still kissing you

JOSHUA 』

you two had a pretty bad argoument before dinner time because he is way too gentlemen with other women

so you just decided that he doesn't deserve your presence

you prepared your plate of food and insted of take a sit at the table, you walk straight into your room

hoping that he got the message and he will not sleep into the same bed as you

but after about an hour, when you finished your food and were already laying comfortably under your sheet, you hear a door opening

and who if not Joshua?

he doesn't care at all about your annoyed huffing, he is laying under the sheet beside you

and his goal is cuddling you until you fall asleep

you protest when you feel his arm wrapping your waist but his arms are just way stronger

he pull you closer to him as much as he can, he needs to feel you

when your back touches his naked chest, you can't do anything but relax under his touch

his breath against your hair brings so much comfort into you

he traces your arm with his finger until he hears your cute sleepy sounds

JUN 』

it's really rare that Jun is the one making the frist step after an argoument

he is really shy and he just feels so guitly that he made you mad

his precious baby ?!?!

he is usually awkward, the he will NEVER starts a cuddling session

so when you two have an argoument youre always the one that does the frist step

but today he made you way too angry and he can see it by the way you're not even trying to get closer to him

he wants to cry soo bad because he doesn't know what to do, he is worried that every move he will do is wrong

when the second night pass, and youre preparing to sleep on the chouch once again, he understands that he need to move the fuck up

he is in your shared room, where you were supposted to be with him, under the sheet cuddling nonstop

he nervously walks up and down wondering how to approach you in the best way possible

but it's easier than the tought

when he sits beside you on the couch, you were already all over him

because OMG THIS SHY CAT IS SO BRAVE

he is like 'oh, it was that easy?'

pinching your cheeks and nose kissing because he is starving

HOSHI 』

he absolutely hate making you upset but here we go

at frist he don't even got it, he just continue with his stupid jokes and mess around you

he always do this, like almost everyday, but today he touched a button that should've not been touched

he just frowns when he sees you walking awayt without daring a word

and he is like that for at least 30 minutes, you can almost hear the hamsters into his brain

he may need an help too, so he is on his way calling his best friend

and this sounds so stupid to him but hey he needs help with his beloved

bestfriend will 100% facepalming because it seems so obvious to him

but hoshi arrives here a little late

after he got what he did wrong he is RUNNING to you, jumping straight into your body

he lays on top of you kissing every part of your skin that isn't covered with blanket

also he would gently rub his nose against yours

kissing you under the blanket

WONWOO 』

he may seem awkward but this man is a reader so...

he exactly knows what to do and when to act out

he approaches you slowly, he frist want to know if he will get a slap from you or not

and if you seem way more calmer, he is cooking something sweet

looking cute in his apron and his black glasses falling down his nose bridge once in a while

he may not be the best at cooking but It's the thought that counts

and when his shiluette walks through the door with the sweet smell of pancake no shit

YOU ARE ALREADY ON HIS KNEES

he even forgot to take off the apron that hugs his waist

and his glasses getting fogged up because of the plate under is nose

he is way too cute, i want to cry

you dont even think about be cold to him when he lays under the blanket a little too far from you

you love his effort and his attention that he doesn't even need to cuddle you frist, you are the one starting the session

WOOZI 』

oh shit, did you have an argument? well forgot about him coming to you

man has a reaaally high pride, he must done it biiiig if he is the one approaching you after

thats why he is now complaining if sit by your side or just continue staring at your side profile

his eyebrows frown only makes his face looking cuter

i think he prefer think about a thing a hundred times before acting

and you can tell he is thinking a lot now

he is a man of words rather that physical touch, so he starts to talk to you after sitting beside you on the couch

and when all is cleared he surpirse you even more by clinging by your side

intertwine your arms and lay his head on yours

while his thumb slowly caress your hand and wrist

[mona-risms]

Ok I was thinking about making a whole ass fic about this myself, but seeing your taking Hunter/x requests I thought I’d pitch this to see how you’d imagine it.

I imagined Amab Reader (I was thinking a guy best friend thing for Rumi) but knowing u don’t write men I’ll pitch this as Masc GN.

They grew up with Rumi, trained to be hunters with Rumi and eventually became Hunter/x dance/choreographer, that’s been in love with Rumi since the day they met, but they’ve never told her.

Mira and Zoey know but never outed them to Rumi, they go through the movie helping the girls and watching Rumi fall in love with Jinu, and they take it pretty well, it hurts like hell but all that matters is Rumi's happiness.

Eventually we reach the events where the girls find out Rumis a demon and Mira raises her weapon to her and Reader steps in between them and they all argue, basically the conclusion of the argument outing readers feelings for Rumi.

Mira is like “You’re in love with a demon!”

And readers like “No im in love with Rumi” cause it doesn’t matter to them what she is.

And I just imagine them and Rumi leaving, she’s still in love with Jinu so that confession doesn’t magically have them together or even kiss now. But Rumi knows, over everything she’s ever wanted.

She has one person that for sure loves all of her. Even the parts she thought were unlovable because even her aunt and pseudo mother couldn’t love them.

But reader is there no matter what, and just holds her as she breaks down, because of all the awful stuff she’s had to endure with her self image, and knowing now that she doesn’t have to feel the shame her aunt instilled in her

Sincerely the Tsaritsa/Pyro Archon Anon

◆ MAIN COURSE: Rumi x gn!choreographer!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None. Maybe like one single mention in regards to how these events would be with a fem!reader but otherwise this is strictly gender neutral.

◆ NOTES: HELLO I DID SEE YOUR OTHER REQUEST AND I WAS GONNA WORK ON IT BEFORE KDH TOOK OVER MY BRAIN 😭😭😭 YES YOU CAN BE ☀️🌙 ANON FIRST OF ALL I' SO SORRY I HAVEN'T DONE THE OTHERS YET AND SECOND OF ALL THANK YOU FOR THE CONSIDERATION ☹️. Anyway read this for? The continuation? Not the right word but alas

It feels like sacrilege to write something about this because holy fuck this is already DEVASTATING as is 😭😭😭😭😭 WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS but god okay here we go

I'm just going to say to get it out of the way bc this is genuinely a thought I have—if this was a fem!reader thing, it'd be another form of devastation. Gonna state the obvious here but K-Pop idols being gay, while they definitely lean into the queer fanservice and it isn't illegal to be gay in South Korea, still isn't widely socially accepted (there are some exceptions that came out but it is VERY MINIMAL). I don't even think it'd ever register to Rumi that you'd ever be interested unless she had some sort of bi awakening or you flat-out spit it out. And even then considering how she was most likely raised by Celine to be a WEAPON in both demon slaying and idol stuff, along with being taught to hide herself, I don't even know if it'd be an easy thing to swallow. But that's just me okay ANYWAY moving on frfr

You two growing up together as childhood besties and Celine training the both of you since you were young gives you a sort of special bond that not even Zoey or Mira have bc I THINK iicr they had their own lives when they grew up before they got scouted by Celine (how tf would we know when they never go into it right 😓). The two of you have the most experience, and the rapport comes the easiest. But as much as Rumi wanted to tell you about her demonic heritage, Celine has it drilled even deeper than you that she NEEDS to hide it—conceal don't feel Elsa type shit

I think Celine would also entrust watching over Rumi (and the whole of HUNTR/X) to you. Since, yk, there's only three people allowed every generation. This opens up the choreographer role, being able to guide them and their movements while keeping an eye on them when Celine can't. Unfortunately this also does kinda put pressure on you NOT confessing to Rumi bc 1) it'd probably end up as a distraction and 2) you don't wanna bother her about it. So at the VERY LEAST you'd be planning to say something AFTER they get the Golden Honmoon and all the demons are banished. Surely that'd be fine right? WRONG

Ever since the Saja Boys appeared, Rumi's been distant. Not just from Zoey and Mira, but you as well, which is diabolical since the two of you are guaranteed attached to the hip. Said two would be the only people that are well aware of your feelings for Rumi, and by GOD they feel bad for you. They're saying that Rumi's just!! Distracted over the upcoming Idol Awards and the Golden Honmoon!!!!!! But you've been seeing Rumi less and less, she's gradually kinda withdrawn and stopped talking to you about her problems, and she gets all sketchy and weird when you knock on her door or anything

The words slip out of your mouth before you could keep it down, "Did I do something wrong?"

Rumi looked up from her lap, her hands lightly pinching at the edges of her hoodie—your hoodie, you notice, the one you gave her one day but never bothered to ask for back because she said it was comfortable and gave good coverage of her whole body. "No?" Her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and she looked genuinely taken off-guard by your question, "I don't.. think so? Why do you ask? Did something happen?"

You shook your head, "No, just.. you've just been avoiding me recently, so I thought I made you upset somehow."

"You know if I was upset, I'd tell you, right? Been doing that since we were kids," Rumi smiled lightly, "even when it was just me tripping over a rock and wanting those cute little bandaids you had."

At one point, you would've said 'yes' without a single doubt in your mind, but recently you've had doubts. Growing up with her meant you basically knew her better than she even knew herself, after all.

You wanted to say 'no' or 'I don't know'. You wanted to be honest.

"Yeah. I do." That's all that came tumbling out. "But I just..."

Miss you.

You shrugged before sitting down beside her on the bed, bumping your shoulders together as you reassured her, though you didn't know of what, "Don't forget you can come to me anything, yeah? I'm not gonna judge."

She doesn't verbally answer, but she does nod and lean on your side. Though you don't dare to look down at her expression—the nagging feeling of paranoia, mixed with the respect you had for Rumi, was pushing you away from prying—if you did you would've seen regret written all over her face.

It only all makes sense at the Idol Awards, when her identity is revealed and you lot all realise she was trying to work with Jinu (clearly it kinda failed since 🤷‍♀️). It clicks to you Really Easily, why Rumi's been secretive and distant this whole time, and even when it came to other stuff like why she doesn't go to the bathhouse or why she favours things with full coverage and long sleeves even if it was the MIDDLE OF FUCKING JULY!!!! You saw it on the screen, right beside Bobby, and by the time you get to where the girls are, Mira and Zoey have their weapons pointed at Rumi and Rumi is glowing, devastated, inhuman

Do you care though? No duh. So you step in between the two parties with your own weapon. But even you could tell that Mira and Zoey weren't into it at all—they didn't wanna fight Rumi at all

Mira's grip tightened on her glaive, "[Y/N]. Step away."

"No," you raised your own weapon higher, "not before the two of you lower your weapons. What the hell are you doing?"

"What we, as Hunters, are supposed to be doing!" Mira's voice raised, tinged with a mix of disbelief and mournful desperation, "We've been trained under the code of killing all demons for years, and yet she's been working with them the whole time?"

You hear Rumi's voice from behind you, broken, layered with something else, "No, I--"

"Oh, cut the crap! You kept this a secret the entire time and never thought to tell us when we-- when we--" Mira's voice broke off with a strangled rasp, her blade lowering slightly, before she blinked her unshed tears away and held firm with her stance, "If you're not going to help us, then step away."

You didn't move, "No."

"Stop being so stubborn and turn around! Look at her!"

And you did.

You saw her eyes, half a normal brown and half a slitted amber that glowed just like the purple markings that stretched all across her skin. You saw the claws on one of her hands, the way her skin now sported a grey-violet tinge that gradiented into her normal skin colour.

You saw the shame.

Zoey, the quietest you've ever seen her, dematerialised one hand of her knives to tug at Mira's jacket, "Mira, maybe we can just.. leave--"

"You're defending a demon that lied to us--"

"I'm defending someone I love!"

Silence followed, save for the echoes of your raised proclamation that bounced off the walls—

"It doesn't matter what she is, she's still my Rumi. If you really want to kill her, if you really believe that she's nothing but a demon? You'll have to kill me first."

—and the sharp intake of breath from behind you.

If Rumi were to look at the others' faces, she wouldn't see shock—they knew, after all. Instead, their expressions had crumpled. Zoey's hold on her knives had trembled slightly, and Mira had stared at you in a mix of rage and devastation.. before the both of them lowered their arms.

"..Go," you spoke softly, keeping your eyes pinned onto the duo as you spoke to the woman behind you, despite the heartache, "find him. See what went wrong."

Her clawed hand had shakily reached out behind you, but she retracts it in a near-instant with a tiny whimper before running off.

And that's when you slumped to your knees.

"Fuck."

And then the whole thing kinda goes the same way it did until the end of the movie. Rumi's mourning for someone that, by Hunter code, she shouldn't have mourned and yet it's not as if feelings are easy to erase. Not just her feelings for Jinu, but yes her fears, her insecurities, her shame (no thanks to Celine, you find out from her later 😒)

It'd definitely take a while for her to get accustomed to walking around with her markings freely out in the open. This girl's been raised to think she should be ASHAMED of herself for even basically existing, and she has to hide whatever taint her demonic ancestry's given her instead of embracing it. Add onto the fact that she's realised the entire time there was one person who's loved her and WILL love her unconditionally, even when sometimes she still thinks she looks like a monster when her internal doubts get to her? Oh she's crying. And who does she realise holds her every time? You.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head, "Don't ever be sorry. I.. kinda figured it was best to keep it a secret until it faded away."

"Don't say that," she smacked your arm lightly.

"Okay, yeah, I guess it does sound kind of sad."

"'Kind of'?" Rumi scoffed lightly, though her tone held no heat to it, "Mira and Zoey told me that you've been having this crush for years!"

"Since I first saw you, actually."

"That makes it worse! ..For that long?"

"..yeah." You laughed, mostly at yourself as you looked out at the city from her room balcony, "I don't think it'll go away."

Rumi just watched you, watched how the city lights and the iridescent Honmoon twinkled in your eyes. And she tore her eyes away after a while, resulting in the both of you simply.. city-watching amidst the silence.

But she breaks it after a while, her voice a fragile thing, "..Could you.. wait for me?"

"Hm?"

"I think.. I want to recover. Or, well, unlearn Celine's.. way of the Honmoon." She leans her head on your shoulder, her now-iridescent markings casting a soft glow on your skin and her hair loose from her usual braid, "I want to learn how to stop hiding first. Then.. I'll see. Is that.. okay?"

You looped your arm around Rumi to hug her by the side without any hesitation, "Take as much time as you want. I'll be here."

"..Thank you."

"Mm. ..Besides, who else would choreograph your dances? Mira could, sure, but not as good as me."

"Pfft. Ruin the moment, why don't you?"

[sugar-omi]

suggestion from *this anonnie <3 im obsessed w your big brain anon. i've been losing my mind like a rabid animal over this prompt for weeks. *edit: i just realized i uploaded the wrong version... :,)

DAY SIXTEEN — Panty Sniffing [ cove ]

[ *edited on 10/21 for: uploading the wrong version. ]

tags : NSFW, Dark Content (non-con), fem/afab reader, (OOC) obsessive/soft yandere cove, somnophilia, olfactophilia (aroused by odors from the body, usually the sex), reader is a heavy sleeper, cunnilingus, masturbation

synposis : cove has had a crush on you for years. you are, and always will be the object of his affection. so of course, over the years he has borrowed your panties once or twice. but now, you've come to stay with him after leaving to attend a college out of the country. he's missed you so much..

and now you're sleeping in his bed, a sacrifice he graciously made again. but you haven't outgrown your wild sleeping habits, and seeing you exposed.. so vulnerable and open complied with how much cove has missed you.. he can't help but take a little souvenir from you tonight.

[ kinktober '24 masterlist | ao3 ]

cove’s heart can hardly take it.. he can’t believe you really decided to spend the week at his house instead of with your parents. seriously, how did he get so lucky?

he missed you so much.. he was devastated when you decided to go to a college out of state, but he knew he couldn’t force you to stay and he wasn’t ready to follow you, even though he wanted to.

cove wipes his face with a towel and hums a tune as he flips off the light in the bathroom, grabbing some blankets and a pillow from the closet so he can make his place on the floor next to you.

although, he wishes he was sleeping in bed with you, arms wrapped around your waist and burying his nose in your neck so he can smell your body wash up close, your warmth burning against his body…

but he’s glad you allowed him to sleep in the same room tonight. after all, you guys are adults now. some women would have thought twice about sharing a bedroom with their male best friend. it’s just a simple fact, he’s a man with needs and desires, and you’ve always been so gorgeous, even more so now that you’ve gotten older, grown into your features and found your style.

you’re so brilliant too, and talented.. truly, he doesn’t know how you have gone this long without knowing the extent of his crush on you.

it’s not even a crush anymore, that would be putting it lightly. his feelings for you are much greater than a crush, it’s even deeper than love. cove is completely, and utterly devoted to you. he is loyal to you and you only. you are the only one for him.

he couldn’t dream of being with anyone else, he wishes so badly that you’d look at him like that too.. but even if you don’t, he will stay devoted to you either way.

as long as you don’t give anyone else your affections.. he truly doesn’t know what he’ll do if you find someone else. cove is pretty sure he couldn’t handle it if you started seeing someone else.

you have had crushes before, you even called yourself going on a date with someone from your school.. but thankfully, it went nowhere.

he really doesn't know what he would do if you started dating someone seriously.. he doesn't know how he'd act, react, or how far he'd take it... it's a truly unpleasant thought, one that makes him sick. but that's a thought cove refuses to linger on or entertain.

no matter what, he intends to be the only one in your heart. if you could have even a sliver of love and devotion for him as he does for you.. he'd be so happy his heart would surely burst!

but cove doesn't let those bad thoughts dampen his joy, tonight is the first day of your stay, he has plenty of time left to spend with you, who knows what could happen in that time. maybe you'll even realize how much you missed him and decide to stay with him, what a nice thought.~

cove carefully opens the door to his bedroom, trying to be gentle as he makes his way to the center of the room…

but of course, you always throw him for a loop.

the two of you haven’t shared a bed or a room in years, as your parents quietly banned sleepovers between you two as you got older because they knew of cove’s “crush” on you, but they also knew, that while he was a reserved, respectful, and sweet boy. he had turned into a man at some point, the changes in his hormones made his eyes wander lower than was respectful, he found himself wondering what sex was like, what your a woman’s touch felt like, and his mind conjured up wet dreams and forced him into a cold shower to quell the heat under his skin.

at some point, these little desires started to bubble up, and they sat in a hot cauldron at the bottom of his stomach, waiting to be drunk from. and his crush turned into, unadmittedly, an unhealthy love for you.

he worships the ground you walk on, every step you take and every olive branch you offer to him and every piece of affection you give is like god shining a light on him, offering their brilliant gift. you are the light in what was supposed to be a dark, difficult time. he loves you, of course he does.

you have been the center of his affections for years and will be for years to come.

so even though he snuck into your room more times than the two of you could count, he didn’t know that you still slept so wildly. all the times he snuck into your room, he hasn’t caught you in such a wild, let alone vulnerable position since you were children and wild sleeping positions were simply part of the equation.

but you must’ve gotten comfortable sleeping in a big bed of your own. and now.. you are in his bed, wearing the tiniest slip and your body is spread out like a feast laid upon a grand table. truly.. the way you take up space in his bed, it must be an offering given to him by you.

this.. must be a sign of something, right? who sleeps in their best friend's bed, wearing a cute little slip dress and between that, and your wild sleeping habits, your adorable little panties are exposed..

cove feels his heart rate pick up, subconsciously licking his dry lips as he lets his eyes wander down your body…

he lets the blankets drop down to the floor, feeling a heat burn at the bottom of his stomach as he takes one, two, three, four steps towards the bed.. walking carefully, stepping up to the presentation of your sleeping form until he’s standing behind you..

you must’ve fallen asleep while cove was doing the dishes earlier, at his insistence you get comfortable and he’d join you for your little “sleepover” after he was done, because you’re asleep like a rock, not any wiser to your best friend taking advantage of the situation.

and cove takes the chance, by god if he doesn't take this chance.. you’re so beautiful, so lovely and sweet. and now you’re curled up near the edge of the bed, your dress pooled around your waist and your cunt hidden behind one little layer of fabric and you are just inches away from him..

cove has never gotten this close to you while you slept before.. sure, he’s snuck into your room for a late night chat, excursion, or to sleep on the floor next to you- far too scared to slip into bed with you even if he came close to you so many times, desperate to feel your body fitting against his...

and maybe he's snuck in to take a pair of your panties once, or twice. maybe more than that.. it was an inclination he tried to resist after the first time but of course he couldn’t help but take littles pieces of you from time to time, you wouldn’t possibly blame him if you knew, right?

you were always so close to him and are the center of his affections, he can’t help but feel inclined to your things.. he just wants you at all times.

so sure, he has taken your bikini bottoms and used them to stroke his cock, and he took the first pair of risqué panties you ever bought and buried his nose in them, stroking his cock so hard and so much before he returned them that he was sensitive for days.

but he’s never buried his nose against your cunt, of course he hasn’t. what if you woke up? or one of your mom’s walked in? he could never take such a risk, it was a step he wasn’t willing to take.

he is standing over you, his body casting a shadow over you.

you look so sweet… your face the perfect example of relaxation and your lips parted as you snooze away so peacefully.

cove leans over you, running his hand over your thigh. it’s an.. “innocent” action. one that might be seen as him just waking you up or trying to adjust your body into a more comfortable and safe position on the bed.

but it’s not, he knows it’s not. his hand runs up and down your thigh, feeling your smooth skin under his palm and moving up until his fingers are brushing against your panties, his trembling fingers tracing from your hip towards the front of your underwear.

cove sighs shakily, feeling his heart throb and a mix of arousal and anxiety wrack through him.. his fingertips hovering so close to your hole, just a small piece of fabric keeping him away… the warmth of your sex is like an iron on his fingertips, his fingers travel up between your thighs, carefully pressing down on where he thinks your soft clit lays.

“mmn..” you moan softly, twisting your body so you’re on your back.

cove’s breath hitches, he doesn’t move another inch or take another breath, waiting for several thumping heartbeats and painful seconds as he waits to see if you’re going to move, say something, anything…

but you don’t. now, your arms are sprawled near your head, the expanse of your neck and collar bones are like an alluring fruit begging him to sink his teeth into the skin.. but he doesn’t, that would wake you up. that would cause a reaction, a reality, that he isn’t ready to face.

cove swallows, trying to put his spinning head back together and he grabs you by your waist, pulling you down the bed so you’re closer to the edge, and cove puts down your legs, spreading them wide enough for him to fit between them, wary of every little creak and groan of the floorboards as he sinks to his knees, reminiscent of someone praying.

he wishes he could do this while you are awake, kneeling before you as he worships every inch of skin, from your ankles to your lips he wants to cover in kisses and run his tongue over the sensitive dip and valleys of your body.

but he settles for taking what he can get, this is so much more than he ever thought he could get…

cove tucks his legs under his body, his knees squished against the bed frame as he tries to get as close to you as possible. his nose is just inches away from your cunt.

if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re such a heavy sleeper, you would’ve woken up from his heavy breathing blowing against your thighs alone. he’s like an animal, drooling at the sight of its food sprawled before him.

he holds onto your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders so he can feel the weight and warmth of them on either side of his ears, leaning forward until his nose is squished against your cunt.

he inhales deeply, his eyes closing as he takes in the smell of your body wash and the smell of your musk, your warmth amplifies your scent and it’s driving cove crazy.

cove tries to watch you from his place between your thighs, worried you’ll wake up.. but certainly not concerned enough because he starts to mouth at the fabric of your panties as if he’s trying to makeout with your cunt, his fingers tightening around your thighs, squishing the flesh in his hands..

“god..” cove groans into your pussy, the vibrations making your leg bounce and your hips buck up, bumping your clit against his nose, unintentionally grinding against his face.

cove can’t help the moan that follows, burying himself impossibly deeper into your cunt and running his tongue over the fabric, craning his neck to suck on your clit instead of mouthing at your entrance like a gluttonous, desperate puppy.

his spit soaks the fabric, and he sucks harshly on your clit. the force of it would wake any normal person up, but you sleep through it, little moans and hums of pleasure slipping from your lips as you continue sleeping, your body grinding back on his face by itself.

cove pulls away from your cunt, and you huff, your hips grinding against thin air.

it makes cove laugh quietly, your body is so desperate for him and you don’t even consciously know it. you need him, your body, heart, mind, and soul needs him and somehow you don’t know it.

you must be coming around to the realization though, because at dinner you admitted to missing him terribly and feeling a bit awkward making friends with others because they were so different from him and your mutual friends.

you said you were so used to going home and knowing that your best friend was just across the street, that going back to your new home was an adjustment you painstakingly made.

that made cove so happy.. he had to hide his wide smile behind his sandwich, otherwise he’s sure you would’ve known every thought he was having at that moment. of course, you still noticed his hot cheeks, but you don’t know just how happy he was, mistaking it for embarrassment at such indirect praise.

even if it’s the last thing he does, by the end of this trip you will know just how much you need him. how much you love him..

for now, he continues showering your cunt in the love he’s only dreamt of giving it before now.

he pulls away from your cunt,carefully moving so he can pull your panties off.

cove puts your panties in the pocket of his sweatpants, stowing them away and just hoping you won’t remember going to sleep with them on. you were so tired after all, while cove was washing the dishes, you could hardly hold a conversation with him. so if he takes a little souvenir from tonight.. you wouldn’t know any better.

cove sits between your legs, admiring your pussy.. he only imagined having you like this.

well.. in his fantasies, you were awake and begging him to please take care of you, to give you more.. but. this is a fine alternative. you have the rest of your lives to do things like this.

cove inches closer, his hot breath blowing against your wet cunt, making you squirm but you don’t wake.

he takes it further, too far deep to back out now..

his tongue makes contact with you wet slit, running his flat up from your needy entrance to your hard clit, latching onto the bud and sucking.

“ah!” you cry out, and cove immediately pulls off your clit, his heart beating terribly fast as he waits for what feels like hours for you to sit up and yell, maybe even slap him.

but… you don’t.

nothing happens, you’re just as still as you were a few minutes ago, and you don’t make any other sounds beyond your regular breathing as you continue sleeping..

cove knows he should stop. he’s taken too much, he’s going too far now. but.. your cunt is right there, so wet and pink and begging for him to kiss it.

he couldn’t possibly stop now, and that’s why he gives his tongue back in, taking your clit between his lips and running circles over your clit with the muscle, his spit running from his mouth down your cunt as he continues the assault on your unsuspecting clitours.

your hips jump and your legs sometimes bump against his back, even gracing his ears with a lazy moan or mewl, but you really do show no signs of waking.

cove goes lower, satisfied with the increased reaction he’s getting from abusing your clit. but if he keeps teasing the sensitive bud, there is no way you won’t wake up. so he moves down to your drooling hole, licking up the mix of your fluids and his spit.

cove moans at the taste. you taste like heaven, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to go about his days since there is no way he could get away with this twice, and there is no way you’ll react calmly to him asking to eat you out because “i ate you out while you slept, can i do it again?” is not an acceptable thing to hear from your best friend.

but that is a problem he can deal with on his own. he’s spent hours missing you when you’d go out with your family without him during your childhood, and he’s spent these last few months missing you since you left for college.

that just means he has to take all he can from your pliant body tonight, while he still can.

cove dips his tongue into your cunt, your taste flooding his tongue as he delves deeper into your pussy, his tongue exploring the ridges of your wet, gummy walls and navigating the path of your insides.

you whimper, and your pussy clenches around cove’s tongue, slick gushing out into his mouth.

cove moans, the vibrations shooting through you and your hips grind down on his tongue, a little huff coming from your mouth. even though you’re reacting, you’re still asleep and unable to push back against the sensation you think is just a dream.

cove wonders what you’re dreaming of.. are you dreaming of him eating you out? of him fucking you, pleasuring you until all you can see is stars and only muster to scream his name?

god. he needs you so bad, he loves you so much..

his cock is painfully hard in his sweats, something he’s just now aware of. he had entirely forgot about himself, deeply lost in the raw smell of your cunt and taste of your arousal.

but his two senses weren’t the only ones pleased, his cock is throbbing in his sweats, pre leaking and staining his pants. if you awoke, you would be able to see the large outline of his cock against his thigh, his pants clinging to his wet tip.

cove huffs into your pussy, pulling his cock out blindly with his free hand, almost tearing the drawstring before he finally frees his cock from the confines of his bottoms.

he takes his cock in his hand, moaning into your cunt and earning a moan from you as well as the relief and pleasure comes over him, giving his cock long, slow strokes, circling your clit with his thumb and mirroring the action on his cockhead…

this must be what heaven looks like.

getting to be buried in your cunt while he masturbates? this is so much better than your panties.. truly, he will become insatiable after this, how could ever let you go when you could stay here, with him, and let him indulge himself between your legs, showering you with love and devotion day in and day out.

“fuck…” cove mumbles into your pussy, fluids running down his chin but he keeps going, intent to make your body remember what he’s doing to you.

cove pumps his fist faster, eating you out with enthusiasm, the wet sounds from all the spit and slick are loudly bouncing off the walls. cove isn’t being mindful about the noise at all, his one track mind focused only on tasting your cunt and making you cum.

he’s not worried about waking you up at all, the wet sounds of his slurping, smacking, and squelching from your sopping wet cunt are so loud in his ears, the world is asleep and so are you. as far as cove is concerned, time is frozen and he is taking advantage of it.

it wouldn’t be surprising if you woke up, and somehow.. even though he was so worried about it, he wants you to wake up.

he wants you to wake up because of the filthy sounds and moans coming from between your legs, the fapping sound of cove beating his dick to pieces is so distinct. there’s no way you wouldn’t know what was happening from that alone, let alone the feeling of cove’s hungry mouth devouring your cunt.

his tongue is long, and his hunger is truly insatiable. always snacking on little treats, getting seconds and thirds at dinner. cove knows how to eat, and he’s been waiting for this day when he could feast on your cunt.

the smell of your hot cunt stuffs his nose and your sweet, viscous juices saturating his tongue..

cove’s eyes are glassed over, looking up to see if there’s any movement from you.

but you’re sleeping so peacefully.. you’re a bit sweaty and your face contorted in pleasure, your lips parted and eyes scrunched as you let this “dream” take care of you, still giving weak thrusts of your hips on cove’s tongue as you try to chase the pleasure you’re feeling.

cove feels his balls tighten, huffs of air from his nose blowing against your drenched pussy. he’s so close to cumming but he doesn’t stop slithering his tongue as deep as he can, pressing his tongue against the spongy spot that makes your hole tighten and flutter around his tongue, thrusting his tongue in and out of your pussy, the sound of your wetness echoing from between your legs.

you’re starting to make more noise, and your heavy, unconscious body seems like it’s responding more.

cove should be more scared that you’re going to wake up from what he thinks is you approaching orgasm, but he’s not. he wants you to cum. wants to taste you, devour you.

he’ll worry about the consequences of tonight later. maybe the guilt of taking advantage of your body will come crashing on him like it did when he came on a photo he had of the two of you at the beach, the image of his cum painting the little photo of you- in that cute bikini and your arm around cove- is still vivid. or the guilt he felt when he stole your panties from your laundry hamper the first time..

his love for you is simply too much for his heart to bare. he loves you, he loves you so much..

he just wants you to know that, he wants you to love him back but he wants you to be happy. and he loves making you feel happy, loves making you feel good.

you must feel so good right now.. you’re probably dreaming of him between your legs and this dream will stick with you even once you wake up.

the thought of that pleases cove… maybe you’ll still be aroused when you wake up, and buoyed by your dream, you’ll ask him to make you cum for real..

the thought makes cove’s eyes roll and flutter shut.

he needs this to happen again. needs to made you cum again, touch you, and please you and kiss you. he wants to kiss you so bad.. wants to leave hickeys on you and engrave his name on every inch of your body, especially inside your body.

god.. maybe you’ll let him fuck you, your body spread underneath him as he feeds inch after inch of his dick into you, the two of you becoming connected..

that’s all he wants. he just wants you two to be connected, inseparable.

cove moans around your pussy again, his hand gripping his shaft tightly as he loses himself in all the fantasies in his head. he’s losing his mind, boarding on pussy drunk with every drop of your delicious slick that flows down his throat.

cove circles your clit harder, faster, his tongue thrusting in and out of your drenched insides. he’s going to cum, he wants, needs you to cum with him. pre runs over cove’s fist, the wet sounds in the room increasing, quickening as he nears the end and he intensely focuses on savoring every inch and drop of slick your pussy has to offer.

“hah- ahh..!” you gasp, your breathing picking up as you near your end. “cuh- cove..” you sigh, and that pushes cove over the edge, his body tensing up and his fist closed tightly over his cockhead, trying to catch his thick, bountiful load but even though he’s saved the blanket, his cum runs down his length and thick globs fall from his fist, staining his dark sweatpants.

your pussy convulses around his tongue and thighs tremble, your pussy gushing slick on cove’s tongue as you finish..

cove licks up your slick, licking your drenched, puffy folds and clit even though your body jerks from the sensitivity. he pulls back, licking his lips and wiping away the spit on his chin.

there’s spit and your own fluids all over your cunt and ass,the blanket is even a bit damp from all of your sweet and cove’s spit.

cove sits back on his knees, trying to catch his breath and watching you, waiting to make sure you’re still sound asleep before he gets up, pulling up his pants and wiping his hand on them, already knowing they need to be thrown with the dirty laundry before you could see them.

he tugs down your dress, hoping that by the time you wake up, you simply chalk up the mess between your thighs to a “dream” you thought you were having and he fixes you to be positioned in the middle of the bed, your body just as heavy and limp as it was when he walked in.

cove brushes his hand against your cheek.. you’re still deep in sleep, true to your nature as ever. you look more peaceful now than you did earlier, and cove preens at the idea that he made you feel good, even if you don’t consciously know it..

cove pulls away from you, only after pressing a kiss to your forehead and he quietly but quickly takes some fresh pajama pants from his dresser drawer, sneaking to the bathroom.

he takes long strides to the bathroom, careful of every creak of the floor and shutting the door as quietly as possible, leaning against it…

cove sighs, melting into the door as he tries to calm his beating heart..

he can’t believe it.. he really got to touch your cunt.. the taste of you lingers on his tongue, your wetness dried on his digit and he remembers his little souvenir, pulling your panties from his pocket..

cove can’t help it in his state of euphoria, holding the cloth to his nose and inhaling sharply.

god.. he loves you. so, so much…

[ohtobeleah]

CHAMELEON IS SOOOO GOOD UGH im obsessed with this dysfunctional couple trying to be functional again! thank you so feeding us!!

i would love to see that breakfast scene btw 👀

Chameleon // Jack Abbot

“Do you still get the usual?” 

It wasn't supposed to be such a loaded question. But the reality was, no. No, you didn't get the loaded avocado, with smashed pumpkin, pickled onions, tomatoes and feta on sourdough anymore. You didn't get the dish you and Jack had often shared. The meal was balanced well rounded. Filling. But you'd stopped ordering that when Jack moved out. 

Now? You didn't have an order. You hadn't been to Willows since you asked for a separation. It wasn't the same without Jack. 

“I'll just have whatever you're having, with a chai latte.” 

But here you were. Sitting across from the love of your life, at a table set for two, feeling like the third wheel. Jack…the silence, and yourself. 

“I had a pretty rough end to the shift,” It's Jack that breaks it though. He sounds tired. You recognise a little exhaustion, maybe even a hint of despair laced through his words. 

“Oh, wanna talk about it?” With a scowling brow, you probe. It's not like Jack to offer up the things that trouble him for free. At the very least, he'd developed a rather frustrating habit of just not offering it to you. 

“I had a guy come in who'd come off second best after being hit by a car on a run,” Jack explained as he rubbed his palms on his knees. He was sweating. Why did you look so perfect? Even after a fifteen-hour shift. “His fiancée was, rightly, devastated. But she told me they'd had one of their first big fights and he'd decided to go for a run to cool off.” 

You didn't reply. The heaviness that surrounded the two of you was all that needed to be focused on. Jack sipped his long black. You stirred your Chai. Both the bacon and egg rolls that Jack had ordered for both of you were now going cold on their respective plates. 

“Made me think about us,” He broke the silence again. Only this time, your heart dropped into your stomach. “How…complicated things have gotten.” 

It was never meant to become out of control. The sadness, that is. Jack thought he had everything under control. He was managing. He was working. He was coping. 

Until he woke up with his hands around your neck.

“I never want to experience that level of regret; that look on her face was something ripped right from a horror movie.” Jack could picture it as clear as day. He was sure he'd remember this woman's grief for years to come. The permanence of it all. The end. The ‘that's it, you can't take back what you said’ in her eyes when she realised her soon-to-be husband was dead, and the last thing she said was ‘Fine, but don't come back with an attitude still.’ 

It made Jack reflect…

“Makes you wonder if you'd turn back the clock, doesn't it?” You signed, picking at the crispy outer edges of the fried egg on your burger. 

“Or you could have just…not left.” He didn't mean for it to sound so one-sided. Like everything had been so perfect before you walked away. Jack didn't mean to make it sound like this was your fault. It wasn't, but god, why did you have to leave? 

“That's not what this is or ever was, Jack? You know why.” You replied, shock made its home across your face as you did so. Where the hell did that come from? “I'm sorry about your patient, but seriously, watch what you say to me.” 

“I needed you the most and you—” Jack watched the fake reality he'd found himself surrounded by, shatter around him. He'd gotten lost in the flirtatious nature of your breakup. He thought he could repeat the cycle… But you pushed back. 

“Forgave shit you would have hated me for, that's the conversation you aren't ready for yet! That's what I did.” It was clearly not the first time you'd had to remind Jack what the reality of the situation was. At least that's probably what the older lady sitting at the table adjacent to you thought. She sent you a small look of sympathy…but although intended as a gesture of kindness, it just felt like a knife to the chest. 

“It wasn't that I left you when you were at your lowest, because I made sure you got proper help before I got myself help.” Jack didn't interrupt as you spoke. He simply sat across from you, thinking about how he shouldn't have opened his mouth. 

“If I didn't love you and didn't want you to be a part of my life, I wouldn't be sitting here trying to figure out if this was just some half thought out attempt at an apology, or if you really are just reaching an age where critical thinking skills start to rapidly decline.” 

“Sorry, I am.” Jack groaned as he ran his hands over his face. You knew he was, you could see it in his eyes when he looked at you. His soul had aged, but they were still the same eyes you fell in love with. 

“You should be,” You scoffed in disbelief, although it wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility for Jack Abbot. “My god, this was a mistake.” 

“I didn't mean it to sound like that,” Jack admitted with a softness in his voice. The guilt was already eating him alive. Sitting this close to you, yet so far away, was driving him wild. “I just mean, I wish things hadn't gotten so bad that you felt like leaving was the only option you had.” 

“Yeah, well,” You groaned, reaching for your chai latte. The sip was heavenly. Maybe it had something to do with the fact you'd been stirring it absentmindedly for five minutes. Or maybe it was just the fact that you hadn't been to your favourite cafe since your separation. “Can't take it back now, just—think.” 

The frustration in your voice was extremely difficult to hear. The last thing Jack ever wanted to do was be the cause of your pain, discomfort or anger. Yet here he was…the cause of all three. 

“You don't usually like it when I do that?” Jack tried to lighten the mood. He smiled, just barely. But you saw it. 

“Beats the alternative where you're just an outright jerk.” You replied. The giggle the two of you shared was as pure as your love. It was a nice moment of reprieve as the hustle and bustle of Willow's cafe filled the comfortable silence. 

“I said I was sorry,” Jack smirked. His eyes never left yours. He had a way of making the world around you stop when he had you locked in a state so fierce, it nearly took away your ability to breathe. 

“Yeah, you say that word a lot, actually.” It was the way you rolled your eyes that broke the stare off. The contest filled with nuance and context that others just passing by would never catch. “To the point where you'd think the definition would be easier to understand.” 

Jack faked a pained chest. You laughed. He smiled softly. It was definitely a moment. It was…nice? 

“You look beautiful, by the way, I haven't told you that in a while, but you look,” 

“Thanks,” You accepted the compliment. “You look like you've been up for three days.” 

“Bed's a lonely place.” Jack shrugged. It was the truth. Sleeping was hard at the best of times. But sleeping alone really made the voices echo. 

“Might need to fix that, pops.” You teased. It was your way of telling Jack he had to keep trying. Keep fighting. 

“I never should have listened to Robby.” Jack offered up as he shook his head. A mouth full of burger had him muffling his words. But you understood perfectly. 

“Was he the one who told you to take your wife to breakfast and insult the shit out of her?”   “I might have to tell Robinavitch to back off?” 

“My wife,” Jack repeated. He heard it loud and clear. You had just referred to yourself as his wife. It sent electricity shooting through his body like he was designed just for you. “I haven't heard you say that in a long time.” That very statement alone was enough to have your heart aching inside your chest. 

“I haven't felt like it in a long, long time.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

🖊️ jan 2025 manga updates~! 🦁

No Episode of Octavinelle update this month!

If you were hoping for me to scream (positively) about [REDACTED]’s OB… 💀 Well. You’re not getting it here 🤓

***Episode of Savanaclaw and 4koma spoilers under the cut!!***

dhvasfovavaqeyo OH MY GOD???? He looks so pathetic like that... just look at his face...

The tail on the ground is bothering me but. 💀 Just a me thing, I am always grossed out by tails and the thought of them getting filthy…

He’s manspreading too/j (Side note: this is very Rollo of me, but BLESS that fucking pose actually covering up the skin that's exposed because of the weirdly skewed angle of his shirt.)

The way I thought this was Deuce at first-- Like Yuuken, Yuuka joins in the action. She charges in to take Leona head-on! It makes me wonder how Yuuta will contribute to the OB Azul battle, if at all?? Unlike Yuuka and Yuuken, Yuuta isn't athletic or able to handle conflict with combat. I don’t recall seeing him doing any kind of fighting against OB Azul.

Well. Nice to know that Leona doesn't discriminate in who he decides to sand 💀 What a true feminist king...

Jack to the rescue! djscsjsjkwkw Him claiming to be a lone wolf and not caring about you or anything 💀 then proceeds to save Yuuka’s ass when she’s reckless in the fight… Yeah, okay TSUNDERE

I like that the manga continues to show more detailed interpretations of the OB battle, which grants the characters more time to interact with each other and build their bonds. You can see Ace, Sebek, and Silver helping out the Savanaclaw dorm members, and even Yuuka tries to help Ruggie. Does this count as trauma bonding…

The sand at Jack’s feet reminds me of bone marrow… which makes me hungry… Probably not the intended effect 😂

Wolf form Jack feels so much more expressive in the Episode of Savanaclaw! He has several very determined faces in this chapter.

Again, the Savanaclaw mangaka ALWAYS pops off when drawing long, flowing hair.

DSBIHLADFVIYOADGYAFEYFAI nNOT GRANDPAPPY BEING EXTRA SaasSSYY...

Leona's devastation though, pretty tasty content 😋

It's really interesting seeing how the earth seems to respond to Leona's emotional turmoil. It starts shaking... particles floating in the air... I wonder if that's something his magic is doing unconsciously. The scale of this two-page spread is so cool! You can tell from the blast radius and how the other characters are bracing against it that it's a really powerful sandstorm and blot explosion.

Aaaaand here is Leona's long-awaited evil magical girl transformation! ahlavuovfafe a I'M REALLY FREAKED OUT BY THE bALLERINA-ASS FOOT SHOT, Im’ StILL REVovrrinG FROM tHE FLOYD pAjAMA gROIVY 💀

(Also???? His fingers and nails look super dainty??? Not sure if that's just me.)

Wow, what an eventful update :DD

The next chapter for Savanaclaw will be in April~

This month's 4koma involves Trein going to Board Game Club. He wants Idia's help to convert a magical book's text into an electronic form, since Lucius sits on his keyboard when Trein attempts to do the conversion himself. Unfortunately, Idia's nowhere to be found! Azul offers to help instead, thinking he will get something out of it + schemes about how he could profit from books, perhaps by writing one of his own. The twins and Ortho also appear and join in on Azul's scheming.

[cece693]

i love your work sm!! im not sure if youre still taking pjo requests,, but i would love to see a solangelo x male reader!!

Thanks for the ask! You weren't specific so I went with the jealousy trope but added comedic elements cause I felt like it. Hope you enjoy it :)

Hypothetically Speaking

pairing: will solace x nico di angelo x son of zeus tags: jealousy, both will and nico have crushes on you, but aren't bothered, cute, short, fluff, they think you're straight, you're not, comedic elements

Camp Half-Blood buzzed with summertime chaos. Sword clashes echoed, laughter drifted across fields, and campers joked beneath the gleaming sun. Yet two particular demigods were consumed by an entirely different form of chaos. Will Solace leaned against the old oak tree near the infirmary, eyes fixed intently on you as you sparred gracefully, wielding a celestial bronze sword, sweat glistening beautifully on your brow. Nico di Angelo stood next to him, arms folded, brows knitted in conflicted admiration.

“Do you ever think he’s too good-looking?” Will muttered, narrowing his eyes. "It's unfair."

Nico huffed, rolling his eyes. “You say that daily. If it bothers you so much, why do you stare at him like a lovesick satyr?”

“You’re one to talk!” Will scoffed. “Yesterday you walked into a tree because you were too busy looking at his shoulders.”

“Shut up,” Nico retorted quickly, cheeks flushing crimson. "At least I'm subtle."

“You were practically drooling,” Will teased, nudging Nico gently. “I had to heal your forehead, remember?”

Nico grumbled quietly. “Okay, so we’re both pathetic.”

Will chuckled softly, gently taking Nico’s hand. “But we’re pathetic together.”

They shared a smile, completely at ease with their mutual infatuation. It was impossible not to fall for you: you were handsome, kind, funny, but also famously, notoriously, and heartbreakingly straight. At least, that's what everyone believed. And for the sake of their own sanity, Will and Nico believed it too. They bonded over their mutual crush, comfortable enough in their own relationship to admit—and even joke about—their feelings toward you.

Will sighed dramatically. “Too bad he’s painfully straight.”

Nico nodded solemnly, as if discussing a fallen hero. “Tragic.”

Just then, Lucas, a son of Aphrodite renowned for his charm and devastating good looks, sauntered toward you with an effortlessly confident grin. “Oh gods," Nico groaned, eyes narrowing sharply. “Here comes Mr. Perfect Hair."

Will winced dramatically. "Why is it always Aphrodite’s kids?"

Both boys watched with building horror as Lucas playfully touched your arm, laughing flirtatiously. The true nightmare began, however, when you leaned in, smiling with your perfect lips, and brushed his arm back. "Did you see that?!" Nico sputtered. “Did—did Y/N just flirt back?”

Will paled dramatically. "No, no, we have to be imagining this. Zeus wouldn’t let this happen."

"Zeus doesn't care, Will. He has bigger problems. Like figuring out how many kids he has," Nico snapped sarcastically.

“Oh, we’re being replaced!” Will moaned theatrically, burying his head into his hands. “By the God of Fabulous Hair, of all people!”

That afternoon, oblivious to the crisis you caused, you walked over to Nico and Will, who sat broodingly at the infirmary steps. "Hey guys," you called cheerily, grinning warmly. Both stared at you blankly, their eyes narrowed in synchronized suspicion. "Whoa," you laughed nervously. "Who died?"

"No one yet," Nico mumbled ominously, earning a gentle elbow from Will.

You cocked your head, clearly confused. “Did I do something wrong? You're both acting like someone kicked Cerberus."

“No,” Nico muttered stubbornly. “Why would anything be wrong?”

“You looked pretty cozy earlier with Lucas,” Will blurted bitterly, unable to help himself. Nico elbowed him sharply, whispering something that suspiciously sounded like traitor.

“Lucas?” you echoed, genuinely confused. Then you laughed—a warm, hearty laugh that sent butterflies straight through both boys' stomachs. “That was just friendly banter. Aphrodite’s kids flirt with everyone. Even Mr. D. I’m pretty sure they’d flirt with a tree if it winked back.”

“Wait—so you're not into Lucas?” Will brightened instantly, hope returning to his eyes.

You chuckled again, shaking your head. “Gods, no. He’s like a brother.”

Nico blinked, trying to hide his relief behind a veil of nonchalance. "Funny, we kinda thought you were...painfully straight.”

“Painfully?” you repeated, raising an amused eyebrow. "Come on guys, Zeus is my dad, not my therapist. No way am I straight."

Will’s mouth fell open as Nico coughed awkwardly, his pale cheeks flushing deeply. "Then…What exactly are you into?"

You paused for dramatic effect, smirking mischievously. "Oh, you know. Dark, mysterious death boys and sun-kissed healer types with hero complexes. Hypothetically speaking."

Will stared dumbfounded while Nico snorted in embarrassment, covering his reddening face. "Hypothetically. Right."

“I suppose,” you continued lightly, “if two such individuals were interested, I'd consider myself incredibly lucky.”

Both boys exchanged wide-eyed glances, their irritation evaporating instantly. Will grinned excitedly, throwing an arm around Nico. "Did he just say what I think he said?"

Nico nodded solemnly, fighting back a grin of his own. "I think he did."

You winked playfully. "Well, boys, maybe instead of brooding like dramatic characters from one of Percy's weird novels, you should've just asked."

Nico groaned in embarrassment, hiding his face against Will’s chest. "Gods, kill me now."

Will laughed warmly, leaning forward. “Too late. You’re already dead, remember?”

You chuckled as you moved closer, wrapping an arm gently around each of them. "So, are we gonna keep moping, or can we move onto the ‘happily-ever-after’ part?"

Nico sighed dramatically, feigning reluctance. "Well, since you're practically begging…"

Will squeezed Nico tighter, grinning ear-to-ear. "Finally! Our trio dream becomes reality!”

"Careful, Solace," you teased, pressing a quick kiss to each of their cheeks. "You sound dangerously close to being a cliché."

Will merely laughed, contentedly tugging you and Nico closer. “For you, I’m willing to risk it.”

“Gods help me,” Nico sighed affectionately, “I’m stuck with two hopeless romantics.”

You grinned mischievously, gently nudging Nico's side. "Correction: You're stuck with two ridiculously attractive, hopeless romantics."

Nico rolled his eyes fondly. “Same thing.”

[little-forest-goblin]

Ummh excuse me IM GONNA NEED MORE SUB FIVE CONTENT PRETTY PLEASE

Oooo im on my way my friend. Sub five content coming right up. Enjoy the show. ❤️ (Also sorry for the long wait my friend i had rewrite it cause the first darft was SHITTY. I hope you enjoy this!)

______________________________________________________________

Control

Warnings: Sub five, Bondage/binding, Teasing, Edging, Riding, mistress usage, Don reader, Degrading, Creampie, Aftercare, and words of affirmation

______________________________________________________________

Five had married you years ago. Those were the happiest days of you and his life. But being a man who showed confidence and a protective personality he still hid his own insecurities. 

Any insult thrown at him would be thrown at the perpetrator tenfold devastating their egos like it was fine china glass. That being said, he sometimes felt like an inadequate husband to you. He felt like no matter what he did or no matter how much you told him it was enough it just wasn't. 

His brain liked to fuck with him a lot. After years and years of being alone and being traumatized and being made into a killer your brain really fucks with you in whatever horrific way it can think of. Hell sometimes he didn't even know how you ended up loving him. He was a pain in the ass when you and him first met. but you loved him through it all and he is eternally grateful.

Five got off another day of work at the CIA building. Today was particularly stressful. His shoulders were tense and his brows furrowed. He, for a few weeks now, has had to lead a particularly difficult case. He was okay with keading cause it meant things would go his way but…it stressed him out. Sometimes he didn't want to lead. He didn't want to always have to be in control of things. Sometimes he wanted to let go. 

And that's where you come into play. Literally.

Currently five was kneeled before you as you sat in an armchair you and he had in the bedroom. He was naked with his hard cock protruding from between his legs standing so very pretty. He was kissing up your leg to your knee and thigh. Scars littered his body from a hard life of work and fighting. 

his eyes held submission as he opened his eyes looking up at you as you pet his head. You pulled back his hair to get a better look at his eyes. They were a soft green but darkened slightly with lust. 

He spoke up, not being able to stay silent anymore with all this anticipation. “Mistress, i need you so badly” he had said this with half of his words as a whine.

you tightened your hand in his hair pulling his head back gently making him gasp “Didn't i tell you you need to be patient? Hm? half the fun is the build up isn't it?” you said with a teasing lull of your voice. 

this made five desperate “Please mistress i can't do this. I need you now” he looked at you desperately. You looked into his eyes and you could see the absolute seriousness within them. 

“Please, y/n” he begged

you knew it was serious you nodded “Get on the bed” 

he scrambled to the bed and went and sat against the headboard. You went to the end of the sides and began to lock his wrists with a pair of soft handcuffs on either side of the board. You spoke as you did each side “You remember the color safeties right?” 

he nodded eager to say them outloud. You needed him to say it though. Though you like being in control you want him to have a safe and fun experience. “You gotta say them back to me baby”

he swallowed and didn't say anything at first until you looked at him “We don't have to do this if you don't want” your hands moved to free him which he immediately yelled a no.

“No! i-i wanna do this!” he said eagerly. His little haze of eagerness unfogging for a minute so he can think straight. “Red means I am uncomfortable and want to stop. Yellow means i'm not sure let's talk about it or take it slow. Green means im all good and ready”

you smiled “Good boy, five” you leaned down kissing him which he returned. You and his lips melted together displaying love, trust and affection.

you pulled off and panted a little catching your breath. Once caught up you looked at him “Ready?”

he nodded and eagerly waited. He watched you as you unclipped your bra and pulled down your lacy underwear making his already hard cock leak precum. God you were beautiful. 

you chuckled “someone is very happy” you chucked your items to the laundry basket. you crawled towards him on the bed coming to straddle him your pussy rubbing on his cock but never penetrating yet 

he whined and mewled like a cat in heat. He arched up and his hands struggled with the cuffs to touch you. You knew he could blink out of them if he wanted to so there were no issues.

You grinded on his cock teasing him the whole time. Making him go crazy with the feeling of your wet heat. “p-please y/n i'll be the best boy ill be so good for you” he begged and whined

you chuckled and evilly grinded down harder making a choked moan come from him. He thrusted his hips up to get more but you pulled away making him frustratedly groan.

you laughed “Somebody mad they can't get what they want? To bad baby” you grinded down on him again making him gasp and arch up.

His cock throbbed with need. A specific vein making the grinding down almost difficult for you to not just let him enter and ride him like crazy.

After a while you yourself were wet as hell making a slick noise as you grinded on his cock. You edge him like that for a long time. Bringing him to the edge and never letting him fall. It was driving him nuts. 

Eventually he couldn't take it and he blinked out of the cuffs making you gasp in surprise. He appeared behind you and grabbed you, flipping you over onto your back. His eyes are wild with need. His cock so hard and leaking came to your pussy teasing your entrance. 

he panted and looked at you “p-please baby let me fuck you…i-i need you so bad…” he begged as he looked into your eyes. Even though he was on top he was still a submissive begging slut

you smirked and kissed him deeply. He didn't protest against it. He kissed back just as deeply. you pulled back and whispered in his ear “Fuck me”

with no protest he slid inside slowly making your back arch up. He whimpered and his head fell onto your shoulder as he started pumping in and out.

Your hand went into his hair as you moaned. His whimpers could be heard and his hands slid down your body holding your hips. “Oh god you feel so good, mistress. You’re so beautiful…i can't take it!” 

you shushed him and pulled his head deeper into your neck as he planted reverent kisses and nips on it. He soothed them with licks. 

his thrusts sped up slamming into you. He pulled away and his head fell back. He swore he saw stars “Oh god mistress please let me cum”

you reached up, taking his jaw and pulling him down to look at you, giving eye contact. “Don't you dare cum yet do you hear me? don't you dare”

his cock jumped inside you at the dominance. He let out a breathy moan “bu-“

You pushed him onto his back making him gasp. You began to ride him keeping eye contact as you pinned his hands on either side of his head “I thought i was in control huh? f-fuck!” your head fell back

he whined trying to move his hands to hold onto your waist but you kept them by his head. “i-im sorry mistress p-p-please- OH FUCK!” he screamed out when you swivel your hips with a deadly combination of slamming your hips down right after.

Your legs burned from how you were working them but that chase of pleasure was phenomenal. His back arched up, his eyes shutting tight and his mouth parting. “F-fuck i cant take it mistress please!”

you chuckled dark and evilly “You wanted to act like a slut your gonna get fucked like one. Now take it, bitch”

his moans became louder. He found it so hot when you degraded him by putting him in his place. He was always the one with smart quips and always being praised at work. Sure he loved your praise but sometimes he wanted to be told he was worthless for a little bit. Hurt his ego a little and then build him back up right after.

“p-please mistress i-ill be a good boy i-i promise! please let me cum!” he groaned as he felt your pussy clench around his cock making him shudder and raise his hips up to fuck into you. 

you let out your own little moans. God he felt good. He always fills you nicely, always knowing exactly where and how you like it. you panted as you looked down at his hair in his face. Your tits bouncing in his face. It mesmerized him as he looked at them. “y-yeah you wanna cum you slut?”

he nodded desperately. He wasn't looking into your eyes as he nodded or said a word. He had to say it. You took his jaw turning his head to look into your eyes “What was that, whore?” you said with a slightly aggressive tone

he looked into your eyes with such submission pushing you closer to your own edge. “i-i wanna c-cum. I..i wanna cum inside you please please, mistress” 

you groaned as your hold fell back at the feeling of your own orgasm coming closer. “Than fucking cum” you moved your hands to his chest

That was all he needed. He grabbed your hips helping move you, easing some pain in your legs. His hips slammed into you too. He chased his own pleasure along with yours. 

your moans mingled in the room. Skin upon skin became the only music that got faster and faster till he started to stutter at the feeling of your clenching walls. He soon came inside you he whined and groaned like a puppy. He kept thrusting to get you there too. soon after you reached your own orgasm clenching him tightly milking him for what he was worth

as movement calmed you both still, panting and heavy breathing. Skin slightly slick with sweat and the room heavy with the smell of sex. 

Five’s eyes were half lidded. He reached up, taking your body and bringing it closer to his own which you happily agreed to. You laid on him. Your weight comforting him. 

for a while you laid there together before taking a shower or bath. you eventually broke the silence “I want you to know i don't think of you as a slut” you said quietly

he chuckled “You always are affirming me afterwards. You do know I know you don't think of me that way right?” 

you nodded “Yes but i always want you to know i love and care about you” 

he looked down at you and kissed you softly which you happily returned. He eventually pulled back but kept you and him forehead to forehead. “Thank you, y/n, my dear. I love you” 

you smiled and took his hand intertwining fingers “I love you to, my love” you smiled up at him. You and him went to the bathroom after to clean up. You and him cuddled up in a bathtub. Your head buried in his shoulder as the warm soapy water washed away sweat and any tension. you and him stayed like that for a while wrapped in each other's love.

______________________________________________________________

Hi i hope you enjoyed my story! Sorry this took so long and dont worry more is on the way! please do not be afraid to request story ideas! i love you be safe out there 😘 💋

[racecardilfs]

aegean - fa14 smau

fernando alonso x fem!singer!reader

summary: fernando alonso and his girlfriend break up, but is it really over?

warnings: angst no fluff! some slut shaming moments, fernando does NOT look good in this one, but theres more going on behind the scenes i promise xx

a/n: this has no specific face claim, and the songs mentioned are from a variety of artists! there will be a list at the end of the post ♡ there is a part two to this all planned out, it will be posted shortly, hopefully!

my masterlist ❀ part two

Twitter

Instagram

Liked by yourbsf2, carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 212,964 others

yourusername shout out to my girls 🫶 i love you forever!

tagged: yourbsf1, yourbsf2, lilymhe, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes

yourbsf1: YOURE SO PRETTY I LOVE YOU WIFE!!!!!

yourusername: NO YOU!!

alexandrasainmleux: pretty pretty girl!!

yourusername: can’t wait for another date with you gorgeous 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 charles_leclerc: excuse me? yourusername: you’re excused, vroom vroom boy 😒

user1: gorgeous gorgeous girls have breakup parties together

yourusername: you know it!!! user2: CONFIRMATION? IM DEVASTATED. RUINED. WALKING INTO THE OCEAN.

Liked by f1, astonmartinf1, and 375,599 others

fernandoalo_official Greece, you were beautiful🤩A few days off before it’s back to the track again! 🏎️

User3: Sir, I don’t know what you did, but you better fix it right the fuck now.

User4: how do you know it was his fault? we don't know anything yet User3: bc that woman is literally a saint, there’s no way it was her fault User5: don’t get me wrong, i love y/n so much, but there’s no way for us to know what happened. it might not have been anyones fault, and neither of them need this energy if they’re trying to get over their breakup :’( i’m rooting for both of them

Hater1: Always knew she was bad for you, congrats man!

astonmartinf1: see you soon, sir!

Twitter

Instagram

Liked by yourbsf1, charles_leclerc, maisiehpeters, and 264,978 others

yourusername been a little busy lately, but i’ve got something cooking for you all!

yourbsf2: love you so big <3

yourusername: i love you the biggest! 💓

alexandrasaintmleux: can’t wait for everyone else to hear it!!

user6: PLEASE TELL US WHAT YOU KNOW!!!! 🙏 alexandrasaintmleux: 🤫

user 7: oh… this is gonna wreck me, isnt it.

lilymhe: yeah… you’ll thank her though

user8: the last photo 💔 i promise it gets easier, y/n

Liked by yourusername

Liked by finneas, coltonherta, yukitsunoda0511, and 516,785 others

yourusername remember when i said i had something cooking? my album ‘aegean’ is out now. a lot of love and hurt went into this album, and now it’s yours. i hope it means as much to you as it does to me <333

finneas: it was such a blast to work with you on this album, lets do it again soon!!

yourusername: yes please!

francisca.cgomes: so proud of you babe, just lmk when you want to run away and elope!

yourusername: my bags are packed and waiting! pierregasly: guess i’ll just leave you both to it 🧍

yourbsf2: wow look at how cool and pretty and talented my best friend is, everyone!!!

yourusername: ugh i love you so much

alexandrasaintmleux: still so excited!!! can we please go get late night ice cream to celebrate

yourbsf1: seconded francisca.cgomes: thirded! yourusername: ok to the groupchat before this is a long chain xx alexandrasaintmleux: as you wish, babe 👩‍❤️‍👩

user8: oh my god???? surprise drop???? queen behavior

user9: i’m not crying, YOU’RE crying!

user10: ur crying too, dont lie! user9: ok yeah. have you HEARD aegean? how could i not be screaming crying throwing up.

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, yourbsf1, and 228,531 others

lilymhe this amazing, beautiful girl did something amazing and beautiful again! y/n, i am so so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. please never let the hurt keep you down, because you are absolutely incredible. We will always be there to pick you back up if you need it! midnight ice creams with you are something i will cherish forever 🫶

tagged: yourusername, yourbsf1, your bsf2, alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, maisiehpeters

yourusername: i love you sooo much lily <33333 thank you for being such an incredible friend

lilymhe: i love you forever 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

francisca.cgomes: pretty best friends stick together forever and ever

yourusername: men are temporary, girlfriends are forever

maisiehpeters: might need to move to monaco so i can come to every midnight ice cream from now on

lilymhe: you’re welcome every time!

user11: how do i get this kind of female friendship in my life? 🥺

yourusername: be kind, be yourself, and be open! your people will find you, user11 💕 user11: OMG HI QUEEN ILYSM KEEP BEING YOU!!! thank you so much!

Twitter

Fernando Alonso's Instagram messages

a/n: and that's my first fic! first smau too, so i hope the formatting isn't too bad? i love when reader is friends w the wags, but i also always love to have y/n have friends outside of the paddock, so i hope no one minded! sorry if any of the wags are ooc i just rlly needed a big group of girl friends for this and idk how normal people talk. also was this just propaganda for some of my fav songs/artists? maybe 🤭i'm actually super nervous about this, so i hope you all enjoyed!!! please send me any questions or comments you have!

the songs mentioned are:

While You Were Sleeping - Laufey

Black Hole - boygenius

Lovesick - Laufey

Goddess - Laufey

Wendy - Maisie Peters

anything - Adrianne Lenker

opposite - Sabrina Carpenter

Aegean - Push Baby

Mud - Delaney Bailey

things i wish you said - Sabrina Carpenter

(I Would Have Followed You) - Delaney Bailey